Climate change is no longer a distant environmental footnote discussed in the air-conditioned halls of global summits. In Zimbabwe, it is a lived, breathing reality. From the parched earth of Binga to the flood-scarred landscapes of Chimanimani, droughts, cyclones, and heatwaves are dismantling lives daily. Yet, among the most affected and the least considered is the Zimbabwean girl, whose future is being quietly eroded as her education is sacrificed to climate survival.
As the global community pledges billions in climate finance, we must ask a piercing question: Is this money actually reaching the girls who need it most? From where I stand in Zimbabwe , the answer is a resounding no.
Climate finance refers to the local and international funding meant to support renewable energy, disaster preparedness, and resilient agriculture. Developed nations often tout massive figures meant to help vulnerable countries like Zimbabwe adapt, but there is a profound “trickle-down” problem. While funds may arrive at the national level, the reality on the ground tells a story of bureaucratic bottlenecks. As one community leader in rural Mashonaland central recently noted: “We hear of millions of dollars on the radio, but here, we don’t have boreholes, our children miss classes to go and look for water. To us, climate finance is a ghost everyone talks about, but no one has seen it.”
This “ghost” of finance has a very real impact on the lives of young women. In districts like Binga, Chiredzi, Muzarabani, Guruve, and Chimanimani, the climate crisis has a female face. When a drought hits, it isn’t just the crops that wither; it is a girl’s time. Instead of sitting in a classroom solving equations, she is trekking ten kilometers to a dry riverbed to scoop water for her family. When families face hunger, they often prioritize survival over school fees, leading to a spike in child marriages and permanent dropouts. Cyclone Idai in 2019 remains one of Zimbabwe’s clearest examples of this injustice. The disaster devastated Chimanimani and Chipinge, destroying schools and displacing thousands. In the aftermath, girls became particularly vulnerable to exploitation as the “temporary” loss of schooling became a permanent life sentence of poverty.
The fundamental issue is that many climate finance frameworks still prioritize “hard” infrastructure while ignoring the gendered realities of disaster. A solar-powered project may be celebrated in a donor report, but if girls in that community are still dropping out because of food insecurity and unpaid care work, then the intervention is incomplete. We must stop viewing girls’ education as a “social issue” separate from climate strategy. It is, in fact, one of the most effective tools for climate adaptation. As Nobel Laureate Malala Yousafzai aptly put it: “Climate change is not just about carbon emissions; it is about gender inequality. The girls who are least responsible for this crisis are the ones whose education is most at risk.”
If climate finance were truly reaching those who need it, it would look like boreholes drilled near school grounds to save girls’ time, or school feeding schemes that remain active during droughts so families aren’t forced to marry off their daughters to reduce the number of mouths to feed. It would mean building climate-smart schools that serve as safe shelters during cyclones, ensuring learning isn’t interrupted for months. Investing in a girl’s education is an investment in community resilience; an educated girl is more likely to lead disaster responses and possess the economic agency to survive crop failures.
To rectify this, Zimbabwe must begin to localize climate finance with gender justice at its center. Community-based organizations and girl-led advocacy initiatives must have direct access to funding. We must move away from boardroom discussions in the city and empower rural communities to know what funds are available and how they are being spent. Policy-makers must ensure transparency, moving beyond measuring success by the number of solar panels installed and instead measuring it by the number of girls who stay in school during a drought year.
The global climate justice movement often reminds us that those who contribute least to the crisis suffer the most. The Zimbabwean girl is the embodiment of this injustice. She did not build the factories or drive the tankers that warmed the planet, yet she is the one walking through the dust or the floodwaters to reach a classroom that may no longer be there. If climate finance is to be anything more than a buzzword, it must be measured by a simple metric: Can a girl in rural Zimbabwe remain in school despite drought, flood, or hunger? That is the real test. Until the money reaches her, we cannot honestly say it is reaching the communities that need it most.
Sinikiwe Marodza is a journalist, girls’ education advocate, climate justice advocate, and a communications specialist based in Zimbabwe.
