1. Introduction
The gendered nature of political violence remains a critical yet under-explored area in postcolonial African societies. While political violence is often assessed in terms of electoral manipulation, militarised state repression, and civil unrest, the intersectional impacts on women and children (particularly as interpreted and responded to by local institutions) require closer scrutiny. In Zimbabwe, decades of political instability have entrenched systemic vulnerabilities, with women and children disproportionately bearing the burden of social, economic, and psychological consequences (
Bengesai and Chikhungu 2024, p. 2). Community-level institutions, especially churches, play an ambivalent role in both responding to and reproducing these vulnerabilities.
Religion, and the Church in particular, has historically functioned as both a site of refuge and a site of exclusion. As
Tarusarira (
2020, p. 2) contends, mainstream religious institutions have often favoured conciliatory, apolitical approaches to peacebuilding, thereby marginalising the radical advocacy required in deeply politicised environments. However, growing calls for transformative justice have placed new demands on churches to move beyond spiritualised neutrality and engage directly with gender justice and political accountability (
Chidhawu 2024, p. 130).
This paper investigates the role of church leadership in Zimbabwe in addressing the gendered consequences of political violence, focusing specifically on how women and children are incorporated or excluded from peacebuilding initiatives. Drawing from qualitative data gathered through in-depth interviews with church leaders in communities affected by political violence, this article foregrounds the lived experiences of women as a lens through which to evaluate the efficacy and inclusivity of church-based interventions. The findings highlight the protective yet patriarchal role of churches, which, while offering spiritual and psychological support, often perpetuate gender exclusion in leadership and peace processes (
Manyonganise 2017, p. 111;
Mtero et al. 2023, p. 2). By critically engaging the intersection of religion, gender, and peacebuilding, this article contributes to broader debates on post-conflict recovery and the potential of faith-based actors as transformative agents. This study contends that a gender-sensitive approach is not only ethically imperative but essential for achieving sustainable peace in Zimbabwe and similar conflict-prone contexts.
2. Background
Zimbabwe’s political trajectory since independence has been marked by recurrent episodes of state-sanctioned violence, often intensifying during electoral cycles. The 2008 elections in particular are widely recognised as one of the darkest chapters in the country’s post-independence history, with widespread reports of abductions, torture, and extrajudicial killings. As
Chidhawu (
2024, p. 130) underscores, Zimbabwe has endured dark episodes of gross human rights violations that include political killings and enforced disappearances, particularly in rural areas where state-sponsored violence became systemic.
Women and children
1, often considered peripheral to formal political participation, have paradoxically been central to the experience and consequences of such violence. According to
Bengesai and Chikhungu (
2024, p. 2), “intimate partner violence and child marriages remain persistent public health problems with detrimental effects on the health and well-being of women and girls,” exacerbated by political instability and weak institutional protection.
Zengenene and Susanti (
2019, p. 84) similarly argue that “despite the enactment of laws at the national and international level, women and girls are affected more by the violence in Harare, Zimbabwe,” illustrating the state’s failure to enforce legal protections for the most vulnerable groups in society.
Religious institutions (particularly churches) have historically played a complex role in the Zimbabwean religio-political context. These institutions have served simultaneously as moral guardians, apolitical sanctuaries, and at times, complicit actors.
Manyonganise (
2017, p. 111) critiques the ecumenical churches for adopting a general approach to the national healing and reconciliation process, which has made women’s experiences of political violence invisible. This exclusion from peace narratives has implications for the design and implementation of community-based interventions, where women remain “systematically excluded from leadership positions” despite bearing the consequences of violence (
Manyonganise 2017, p. 111). This paper argues that the blanket approach to national healing and reconciliation is problematic in that it fails to be sensitive to the plight of women and the gendered nature of violence.
Moreover, the patriarchal political culture in Zimbabwe continues to inhibit meaningful participation of women. Online attacks
2, driven by patriarchal beliefs, have the potential to turn into physical violence, deterring women from freely participating in elections (
Mtero et al. 2023, p. 2). This violence, both physical and digital, not only silences women but reinforces their marginalisation in civic, religious, and political spaces. Therefore, any approach to mitigate such violence must be sensitive to these gender dynamics at play. It is crucial for actors to understand the effects of deep-seated patriarchal cultural impact on violence, especially political violence.
However, religious institutions are not monolithic. There are emerging expressions of faith-based activism that suggest a growing willingness to confront injustice more directly.
Tarusarira (
2020, p. 2) observes that the emergence of a new breed of religious leaders that deploy relatively radical and confrontational strategies to advance peace and reconciliation has emerged. These actors have challenged traditional conceptions of piety by incorporating demonstrations, petitions, and critically speaking out into their strategies for peace. While this is plausible, it is not clear how such religious entities have been gender-sensitive in their approaches and radical strategies.
This context underscores the urgency of interrogating how church leadership perceives and responds to political violence, particularly its gendered dimensions. Although the Zimbabwe Council of Churches and other ecumenical bodies have issued pastoral letters and initiated dialogues, their reach remains limited. According to
Mapuranga (
2020, p. 12), despite contributing to development, the Church in Zimbabwe often reproduces conservative gender norms that exclude women from decision-making processes. This reproduction of traditional patriarchal norms fails to recognise the gendered nature of violence and indirectly continues to perpetuate violence against women. This exposes a disjuncture between the Church’s perceived moral authority and its actual praxis in addressing gendered dimensions of violence. Understanding this tension is vital for reimagining the role of religious institutions not only as spiritual sanctuaries but as transformative agents in the reconstruction of post-conflict societies.
5. Results
5.1. Theme 1: Killings and Loss of Life
A recurring and harrowing theme emerging from the interviews is the widespread experience of killings and loss of life resulting from political violence. This theme captures the violent impact on families and communities, especially among the most vulnerable such as women, children, the elderly, and youths. Political violence, particularly during electoral periods, has not only claimed lives but has deeply fractured social fabrics and inflicted long-lasting trauma. As Interviewee 7 stated, “most people especially women and youths were killed and some seriously injured at the hands of political violence, especially in 2008 and in August 2018.” This was further supported by Interviewee 9, noting that, “we have lost many lives as a result of this political violence, men and women have lost lives because of this scourge.” This underscores the extent to which political violence affects society. The participants’ sentiments particularly highlighted the fact that women and youths were amongst the casualties in the politically motivated violence because of their vulnerability status in society. When political violence occurs, vulnerable groups are exposed to an enhanced risk of being targeted by perpetrators. As the interview responses show, the period of political violence is marked by pervasive brutality. Interviewee 1 deepened this reflection by noting the deep effects of political violence:
“Seasons of political violence are terrible. Young people are coerced by political elites to perpetuate violence in their own communities, sometimes against their own will. They beat up their own relatives, neighbours, mothers and even the elderly. They are abused in that manner and some even die as a result of the wounds from the beatings.”
This sentiment is particularly revealing, as it portrays the dual role youths often play, as both victims and perpetrators. This blunt depiction of the systemic manipulation of young people, whose vulnerability is exploited by political actors and who end up inflicting violence even on their mothers in the community, also indicates that some people fail to recover from the wounds and beatings, which eventually leads to the loss of life. This leaves a severe impact on families and communities. According to Interviewee 8:
“There is a severe way in which the vulnerable groups have been affected… for us to talk about politics it means we are talking about people… when the father is killed or the mother is killed… who is going to play that role of parenthood? So that means the livelihood is severely affected because of political violence.”
This emotional account captures the grief and dislocation experienced by families following the loss of a parent or breadwinner. The emphasis on disrupted parenthood reveals the longer-term intergenerational effects of such violence. Interviewee 15 further reiterated this viewpoint:
“We have seen members lose their brothers, we have seen children losing their parents, the children are now orphans due to political violence…wives have lost their husbands and were left to fend for their families as single mothers, so everyone has been affected somehow because we all know someone… relative or a friend. They are amongst us, they live with their pain and grief, and we have to be there for them”
The above statement vividly portrays the widespread and personalised nature of trauma, where loss is not abstract but communal. Churches, as repositories of communal interaction, have thus become spaces where such grief is collectively felt but often inadequately addressed. The quote also highlights the economic impact that women face when their husbands are murdered for political reasons. This shows the human cost of political violence, foregrounding the necessity for trauma-informed, community-based interventions. The Church, though central to community life, is shown to be both a space of solace and an institution often unprepared to respond adequately to such profound loss. This theme, therefore, lays the foundation for rethinking church-led responses to political violence, especially in relation to how they engage bereaved and traumatised members, particularly women and girls.
The findings on killings and loss of life due to political violence resonate strongly with the broader literature on the consequences of state-instigated repression in Zimbabwe. As noted by
Bengesai and Chikhungu (
2024), the impact of violence is particularly acute for vulnerable groups, where loss of life, displacement, and psychosocial trauma disproportionately affect women and children. The participants’ testimonies about orphans, broken family units, and youth drawn into cycles of violence directly mirror these concerns. Similarly,
Mude et al. (
2022, p. 251) argue that political violence is often not incidental but systematically deployed to instil fear and subdue opposition, thus explaining the widespread fatalities.
Manyonganise (
2017, p. 133), in her study of the Church in Manicaland, further notes that faith institutions often witnessed and recorded the violent deaths of congregants during election seasons but failed to offer systemic responses beyond prayer and mourning. This study highlights the silence or inadequacy of the Church’s institutional engagement with grief and loss despite its proximity to the victims. As most church leaders noted, “We have witnessed tragic losses of human lives due to violence. We have tried to assist the families after their loss, but it has mainly been spiritual and emotional help. Our resources are limited to cater for their financial needs.” This sentiment was shared by eighty percent of the participants who indicated that the Church alone cannot bear the burden left by the loss of lives in conflict. There is need for a multi-stakeholder intervention to deal with the effects of the loss of lives as a result of political violence. Therefore, the data presented in this theme not only reinforce existing scholarly observations but also offer grounded, first-hand validation of the devastating social and spiritual toll caused by Zimbabwe’s political violence on ordinary families, particularly on women and children.
5.2. Theme 2: Loss of Income and Livelihoods
Another dominant theme emerging from the data is the significant economic toll of political violence, particularly as it relates to the loss of jobs, destruction of businesses, and the collapse of household livelihoods. While political violence is often framed as a security or civil rights issue, its economic implications (especially for women and children) are equally devastating. In volatile political environments like Zimbabwe, violence frequently disrupts the everyday economies upon which ordinary citizens depend, with long-term effects on social mobility and well-being. Interviewee 8 expressed this by stating that
“Political violence disrupts economic activity. The people lose their source of livelihood. Most of our members are self-employed and when there is violence they are not able to trade. In severe cases, even their stock is confiscated by the radical perpetrators.”
Another participant added the following:
“Jobs are lost during violence. Women can sell in the market during chaotic seasons, you can imagine the losses…most women rely on selling so when that is disrupted, the impact is unbearable for most families”
(Interviewee 18)
The above insights highlight the economic impact of political violence, particularly on women. The loss of employment not only destabilises households but also deepens fear and conformity within communities. The subtlety with which violence operates such as silent dismissals makes it more insidious and difficult to document or contest. Interviewee 9 offered another example of economic marginalisation:
“During the peak of political violence, people were not going to work, businesses were closed, and you were told not to go if you’re not supporting the ruling party. So, you can imagine the trauma linked to poverty.”
This account directly links political repression to induced poverty. The economic coercion described (being excluded from participation in the labour force or market spaces) illustrates how violence is used not just to silence but to further impoverish the people. It also shows how poverty, as a consequence of political action, becomes persistent trauma for affected communities.
These findings align with the available literature that demonstrates the economic precarity caused by Zimbabwe’s political violence.
Zengenene and Susanti (
2019, p. 85) argue that the state uses various apparatus like the army, economic marginalisation, police, and the law to suppress its citizens, particularly women. As such, marginalisation becomes a routine political tool used by the ruling elites to punish dissenters, particularly in the informal and agricultural sectors, where many women earn their livelihoods. The participant responses from this study highlight this dynamic, especially where participants report job loss, and the disruption of informal economic activities.
Mapuranga (
2020, p. 43) also highlights the feminised nature of economic suffering in conflict contexts, observing that women face a double burden of violence: first as targets and second as carers within collapsed economies. For
Mude et al. (
2022, p. 253), women’s economic choices are limited, and they continue to be excluded from being involved in economic opportunities both in the private and public sectors. This shows that while church leaders acknowledge the economic impacts of political violence, their church-based interventions, however, remain largely centred on dealing with spiritual healing and lack the aspect of economic justice for victims, particularly women.
5.3. Theme 3: Gender-Based Violence and Psychological Trauma
This theme highlights the deeply gendered nature of political violence, manifesting not only in physical harm but also in emotional and psychological trauma. While overt acts of violence such as beatings and killings are immediately visible, the long-lasting psychological scars and gendered forms of abuse such as rape, intimidation, and humiliation are often silenced or overlooked. For many women and children, political violence continues long after the overt conflict ends, embodied in trauma, silence, and social exclusion. Interviewee 2 shared a devastating personal account:
“In 2008 I had a member in my church who was pregnant. And during the political violence, she was beaten to an extent that she even lost her pregnancy because of the internal injuries she had sustained Even though we could pray for her and counsel her, it is a difficult process for her to completely heal from the whole experience. Emotionally she was broken. It is difficult for her to erase that picture, yes by grace she has forgiven them over the years but that experience lives with her forever. It’s very difficult for women to cope with the aftereffects of violence.”
This harrowing account speaks to the direct targeting of women’s bodies as political battlegrounds. The assault led to a miscarriage and lasting psychological distress. What is most chilling in this account is not only the physical brutality but the psychological humiliation which reflects the intentional infliction of emotional harm alongside physical abuse. Interviewee 14 recounted the following:
“There are women who were raped in political violence… they cannot talk about it. Some were infected with diseases. Some were chased away from their homes by their husbands after that. Some even got pregnant and gave birth to children from these unfortunate events. The targeting of women is totally evil.”
This narrative highlights the silencing and double victimisation of survivors of sexual violence: first at the hands of perpetrators, and then within their communities and families. The trauma is compounded by patriarchal blame and stigma, reinforcing women’s exclusion from spaces of healing and redress. Interviewee 5 offered another insight:
“It is the women who remain to pick up the pieces. When the husbands are killed or disappear, the woman must be strong, must be both mother and father. But who heals her? No one.”
This participant draws attention to the unseen labour women undertake in post-violence contexts. While churches may offer spiritual solace, the psychosocial needs of women, particularly widows or survivors of violence, often go unacknowledged or unsupported. Interviewee 11 poignantly stated,
“You know we try to address this pain during our church meetings. Christianity is all about forgiveness, unless you forgive and let go, it will continue to hurt you. When we say that it is not because we are ignoring the pain. But where there is need we can also complement the message by having counselling sessions with the victims.”
This comment reflects the institutional limitations of many church structures in addressing trauma. The rhetoric of forgiveness, though spiritually meaningful, can become a silencing mechanism when not paired with trauma-informed care and justice.
The findings under this theme strongly resonate with the work of
Manyonganise (
2017, p. 115), who asserts that churches in Zimbabwe have often failed to take gender-based violence seriously as a justice issue, instead spiritualising it as a test of faith or call for forgiveness. This critique is echoed in Interviewee 11’s statement, where the insistence on forgiveness can be interpreted as dismissing trauma rather than healing it. Similarly,
Chidhawu (
2024, p. 88) observes that gender-based political violence, particularly rape, is systematically underreported and culturally repressed in Zimbabwean society, leading to survivors being doubly punished: first by the act, then by silence. The fact that women were being chased from their homes after rape vividly illustrates this social rejection and isolation. Moreover,
Mude et al. (
2022, p. 251) emphasises that structural violence creates and maintains inequalities between men and women. Therefore, when structural violence is ignored or downplayed by church leaders, it perpetuates continued trauma and suffering for women in society. This study’s findings affirm this through the participants’ admission that, in most cases, churches tend to offer generalised spiritual support but fall short in addressing the specific emotional needs of women, especially those who have experienced sexual violence or lost pregnancies due to political assault.
Furthermore,
Magwegwe (
2024, p. 6) critiques the reluctance of church institutions to engage with women’s pain in meaningful ways, arguing that churches often prioritise institutional neutrality over prophetic responsibility. The findings from this study confirm such critiques, illustrating how emotional trauma becomes a hidden wound in faith communities, unaddressed by both theology and pastoral practice.
Bengesai and Chikhungu (
2024, p. 4) highlight that psychosocial support for women and girls is among the most underfunded and under-implemented dimensions of peacebuilding in Southern Africa.
5.4. Theme 4: The Church as a Sanctuary and Moral Authority
This theme captures the perceived role of the Church as both a physical and spiritual refuge for victims of political violence. For many participants, the Church offered a critical space of safety, solace, and spiritual care amidst pervasive political repression and social instability. Beyond the provision of pastoral support, the Church is also seen as a potential moral authority with the capacity to influence peacebuilding, promote justice, and provide healing. However, this perceived role is not without limitations and contradictions. Interviewee 10 reflected on this protective role as follows:
“People normally come to the church when there is political violence. The church is designed to be the middle ground, a place of refuge. When there is crisis, we open our doors to everyone in need. Our people know they will not be beaten or terrorised inside the church.”
The above quote highlights the literal function of the Church as a shelter, a space physically removed from the reach of political enforcers. The Church building itself becomes a symbolic and material site of sanctuary. In a context where state violence penetrates homes and streets, sacred spaces offer rare protection. Interviewee 13 added,
“Even now, when people are afraid, they run to the church. They cry there, they pray, they feel safe. It’s the only place where people can speak freely without fear.”
The Church is portrayed not just as a place of safety but as one of emotional expression and solidarity. In the absence of mental health infrastructure or state-supported redress mechanisms, the Church becomes a site of communal therapy and emotional release. Interviewee 17 remarked on the spiritual and ethical role of the Church as follows:
“Our role as the church is to teach people to forgive, not to retaliate. We preach peace even when there is war outside. If it was not for the Church, I think we would have severe killings and continuous violence as people seek revenge.”
This quote underscores the gap between rhetoric and praxis. There is need for the Church to go beyond preaching a gospel of peace, providing tangible support such as trauma counselling, legal assistance for victims, or economic empowerment. In so doing, the Church becomes not just a spiritual sanctuary but one with proper structural support and infrastructure that heals the community holistically. Therefore, when the Church does this, it fulfils its moral responsibility to victims.
These findings echo the insights of scholars such as
Manyonganise (
2022, p. 92), who notes that during political crises in Zimbabwe, the Church became both a spiritual haven and a site of negotiation for safety, often absorbing the emotional burdens of communities. This dual role, of refuge and mediator, is evident in the participants accounts shared above. However, as
Magwegwe (
2024, p. 8) warns, while churches offer the illusion of neutrality and peace, they often avoid taking firm stances against perpetrators, thus reinforcing impunity. It can be argued that Zimbabwean churches often function within a limited theological framework that prioritises spiritual peace over socio-political engagement. This results in missed opportunities to engage meaningfully in transformative justice and peacebuilding. The admission of inadequacy by the Church leaders speaks to this effect.
Furthermore,
Tarusarira (
2020) advocates for a more robust prophetic theology in Zimbabwean churches, one that not only preaches peace but also challenges injustice and state-sponsored violence. The current findings suggest that while the Church has moral capital and access to communities, it frequently underutilises this influence in practical peacebuilding efforts. As Interviewee 4 lamented, without programmes or action, the Church risks becoming a theatre of pain rather than an agent of healing. Finally, the literature also points to the gendered limitations of Church-based sanctuary. For
Mude et al. (
2022, p. 254), women continue to suffer in silence from the scourge of religion. This was implied in the data where women’s emotional needs are acknowledged in sermons but not addressed in structural or gender-sensitive programming.
5.5. Theme 5: Exclusion of Women and Children from Church Leadership and Peacebuilding Processes
A critical and recurring theme in this study is the systemic exclusion of women and children from decision-making processes within the Church, particularly in matters relating to peacebuilding and post-violence recovery. Although the Church serves as a moral and spiritual hub for many communities, its leadership structures often mirror broader patriarchal norms. Women and children, despite being among the most affected by political violence, are frequently relegated to passive roles, with little opportunity to shape the Church’s response to violence or influence peace initiatives. Interviewee 3 expressed concern over the structural marginalisation of women as follows:
“I think we have a huge problem on our hands. We still have very few women in leadership positions of the church. Most of our churches have more women as members but the eldership is mostly dominated by men. This means that in our decision making we should really reflect on how we can incorporate their views and make sure that they are not left out. We have to think about that.”
This quote encapsulates the power imbalance entrenched within church leadership hierarchies. Women’s lived experiences and insights are systematically excluded from spaces of influence, despite their critical proximity to the suffering caused by political violence. Interviewee 6 reinforced this point, highlighting the performative nature of inclusion as such:
“Yes, our inclusion of women on our programs must be meaningful. They should not just be there to serve or sing, but to speak and lead.”
This participant was critical of tokenism, where women’s presence in church activities is limited to traditional, supportive roles that reinforce gender stereotypes. This façade of inclusion fails to recognise women as active peacebuilders or thought leaders within the faith community. Interviewee 12 pointed to the long-term consequence of such exclusion thusly:
“Children and youth never speak. No one asks them what they went through. They are expected to move on, to pray, but never to lead or to talk.”
This quote highlights the often-overlooked silencing of children and youth in peacebuilding. As survivors and witnesses of violence, their insights are crucial for crafting relevant interventions. However, they remain peripheral, their trauma unacknowledged and their agency disregarded. Interviewee 5 summed up the frustrations of many, stating
“If the Church is serious about healing, it must listen to women and children. Jesus ministered to women and children, we should too. They are the ones who carry the pain. They are the widows and orphans because of violence. How can we heal them without hearing their pain? If we are going to be effective, our systems must cater for them.”
This call for meaningful participation highlights the epistemic injustice at play—where those most affected are denied voice and legitimacy in peace processes. It demands a restructuring of how knowledge, leadership, and healing are conceptualised in the Church and broader society.
The exclusion of women and children from leadership and peacebuilding structures within the Church has been well documented in recent research.
Manyonganise (
2017, p. 112) argues that church leadership in Zimbabwe remains a male preserve, deeply resistant to the inclusion of women’s voices, particularly on matters of justice and conflict. This resistance to inclusion is replicated across denominations and is often justified by patriarchal interpretations of scripture. Similarly,
Mapuranga (
2020, p. 48) critiques the Church’s tendency to confine women to performative religious labour such as singing, catering, and prayer support, while excluding them from strategic roles in leadership and advocacy.
Children’s exclusion is less frequently addressed in church discourse, yet it represents a serious gap in peacebuilding practice.
Tarusarira (
2020, p. 4) argues that youth are often positioned as passive recipients rather than active agents in post-conflict settings, and their voices are rarely integrated into the moral frameworks constructed by religious institutions. This study contributes to filling that gap by presenting the potential of children as peacebuilders, whose silence is institutionally reinforced.
Mtero et al. (
2023, p. 4) observes that many churches in Zimbabwe lack gender-responsive programming and continue to replicate state patriarchy in their internal governance, thereby failing to live up to their transformative potential. This aligns with participants’ assertions that true healing requires listening to those who carry the deepest wounds, particularly women and children. Moreover,
Bengesai and Chikhungu (
2024, p. 6) argue for a paradigm shift in peacebuilding that centres marginalised voices, stating that interventions that do not actively include women and children are not only ineffective but risk reproducing the very violence they seek to redress.
6. Discussion
This study has uncovered a set of interrelated themes, ranging from loss of life and economic deprivation to gender-based violence and exclusion from leadership, all of which collectively illustrate the profound and gendered impacts of political violence in Zimbabwe. Importantly, these themes also reveal both the transformative potential and the structural limitations of the Church in post-conflict contexts. By engaging these themes with relevant research, we derive implications for theory and practice in gender-sensitive peacebuilding within religious frameworks.
Theoretically, this study affirms the centrality of African feminist theology in understanding the layered experiences of political violence among women and children. As highlighted by
Mapuranga (
2020, p. 12), political violence in Zimbabwe is never experienced in isolation but is always mediated by one’s gender, socio-economic status, and age. This study validates that proposition by revealing how violence disproportionately targets women’s reproductive bodies, domestic roles, and emotional well-being while simultaneously infantilising and marginalising children.
Moreover, this study expands on the concept of epistemic injustice in peacebuilding processes, particularly within religious institutions. As
Tarusarira (
2014, p. 88) observes, the mainline churches have a theodicy that has legitimised the perpetrators of the political crisis in Zimbabwe. In doing so, the Church acts as a moral gatekeeper that selectively legitimises whose voices matter. The exclusion of women and children from decision-making and leadership reflects what
Fricker (
2007, p. 1) would call ‘testimonial injustice,’ where people are not believed or taken seriously due to structural power hierarchies. By presenting women and children as knowledge holders and moral agents, this study contributes to a reframing of peacebuilding theology that demands inclusion not as charity but as justice.
Additionally, this study contributes to transformative peacebuilding theory by interrogating the Church’s role not only as a site of sanctuary but as a potential agent of structural change. While participants acknowledged the Church as a place of refuge and emotional support, they also critiqued its reluctance to challenge patriarchal norms or confront political powers. This tension resonates with
Tarusarira’s (
2020, p. 13) critique of the Church’s preference for spiritual neutrality over prophetic resistance. Therefore, this study calls for a re-theorisation of religious peacebuilding to include institutional accountability, gender equity, and participatory leadership as non-negotiables for transformation.
Practically, the findings demand a reorientation of Church-led peacebuilding to prioritise inclusion, trauma-informed care, and economic justice. The findings reveal that while churches provide spaces of physical refuge and spiritual solace, they often fail to translate these symbolic roles into structured programmes for healing, empowerment, and restitution. Women in particular are expected to be resilient and forgiving but are rarely given the tools or platforms to recover, lead, or shape post-violence responses. As
Bengesai and Chikhungu (
2024, p. 12) note, interventions that neglect the voices of women and children risk perpetuating the very marginalisation they seek to overcome.
There is also a critical need for trauma-responsive pastoral care. Interviewees repeatedly spoke of unresolved grief, psychological distress, and stigma related to rape and loss, which are rarely addressed through conventional sermons or prayer sessions. Echoing
Mude et al. (
2022, p. 253), churches must move beyond spiritual counselling to provide holistic psychosocial services that address the realities of political trauma. This may involve partnerships with mental health professionals, social workers, and legal aid organisations.
Furthermore, the Church must adopt gender-transformative approaches to leadership. The exclusion of women and children from peace dialogues and governance structures within the Church mirrors wider political patterns of exclusion. As the data shows, women are often relegated to supporting roles, while decisions are made by male elders. This institutional patriarchy not only silences vital perspectives but undermines the Church’s credibility as a peacebuilding agent. As
Zengenene and Susanti (
2019, p. 91) emphasise, there is need for rooting out the causes that undermine women which ultimately leads to violence against women. Such an approach is necessary for effective peacebuilding as it requires deconstructing the same hierarchies that produced violence in the first place.
Finally, the role of the Church as a moral authority must be recalibrated. The current tendency to prioritise peace over justice, especially through discourses of forgiveness and non-retaliation, may help to defuse tensions temporarily but often leaves systemic issues unaddressed.
Magwegwe (
2024, p. 10) warns against such pacification theology, arguing that true peace requires confronting injustice and promoting accountability. Churches must therefore embrace a more activist stance, using their moral capital to advocate for victim support, legal reforms, and truth-telling processes.
7. Methodology
This study employed a qualitative research design (
Flick 2018, p. 11), specifically adopting a phenomenological approach to explore the lived experiences of church leaders concerning the gendered effects of political violence in Zimbabwe. Phenomenology is apt for capturing individuals’ subjective experiences and the meanings they ascribe to those experiences, particularly in contexts marked by trauma and social upheaval. The research is grounded in an interpretivist paradigm, which posits that reality is socially constructed and understood through the meanings individuals assign to their experiences (
Creswell and Poth 2018, p. 17). This paradigm aligns with this study’s aim to understand the nuanced perceptions of church leaders on effective peacebuilding and gender justice.
This research was conducted with church leaders in Zimbabwe. A purposive sampling strategy was employed to select participants who could provide rich, relevant data (
Crossman 2021, p. 199). The sample comprised 20 participants (both male and female) from various denominations. Data were collected through in-depth, semi-structured interviews, each lasting between 45 and 90 min. Interviews were conducted in English or Shona/Ndebele, based on participant preference. The interviews were conducted online due to the COVID-19 restrictions and were audio-recorded with consent from the participants. The researcher transcribed these interviews in verbatim and sorted them accordingly. This transcription of audio data allowed the researcher to transfer the data from the recordings into written format, which makes the data accessible for analysis (
Dresing and Pehl 2015, p. 21). The interview guide focused on themes such as personal experiences of political violence, the Church’s role in peacebuilding, gender inclusion in church structures, and perceptions of healing and reconciliation. Thematic analysis, as outlined by
Braun and Clarke (
2019, p. 590), was utilised to analyse the data. This method involves a six-phase process: familiarisation with the data, generating initial codes, searching for themes, reviewing themes, defining and naming themes, and producing the report. The analysis emphasised both semantic and latent content, allowing for a comprehensive understanding of participants’ experiences and perceptions on gendered political violence.
Ethical Considerations
Ethical approval was obtained from the relevant institutional review board of a reputable University in Southern Africa. Participants provided informed consent and were assured of confidentiality and the right to withdraw at any time. Pseudonyms were used to protect the identities of the participants and avoid victimisation. To ensure this study’s trustworthiness, several strategies were employed. To achieve credibility, prolonged engagement and member checking were used to validate the findings. To ensure that there was transferability, thick descriptions of the context and participants’ experiences were provided to allow for applicability in similar settings. Reflexive journaling helped mitigate researcher bias and maintain objectivity.
This study is, however, not without its limitations. While the qualitative approach provided in-depth insights, the findings are not generalizable to all contexts. Potential biases include participants’ reluctance to share sensitive information due to fear of reprisal and the possibility of researcher bias, despite efforts to mitigate it through reflexivity and member checking. The Church leaders interviewed were mostly male church leaders who could provide biased perspectives that further perpetuate the marginalisation of women into the periphery, even on matters that involved them directly. While the researcher tried to maintain a balance concerning the participants’ gender, the reality of the Zimbabwean religious context is that there are very few women church leaders, as leadership in churches is mostly male-dominated.
8. Conclusions
This study has critically examined the gendered effects of political violence on women and children in Zimbabwe, particularly from the perspective of community church leaders and congregants. Drawing on qualitative evidence, it has highlighted the complex and often devastating social, psychological, and economic impacts of such violence, ranging from loss of life and income to gender-based violence and long-term trauma. It also interrogated the dual role of the Church: on one hand, a sanctuary and moral beacon for victims and, on the other, a site of patriarchal exclusion that often fails to deliver structural support or inclusive peacebuilding. The themes and findings point to a key tension: the Church has both the potential and the responsibility to serve as an agent of healing and justice, yet its institutional structures often inhibit this role. From a theoretical standpoint, this study enriches feminist and intersectional understandings of peacebuilding by centring the lived experiences of women and children and foregrounds the importance of including their voices in religious and political reconciliation processes. Practically, this research points to a need for more gender-sensitive, trauma-informed, and inclusive religious interventions in post-conflict societies.
Churches in Zimbabwe stand at a critical crossroads. They possess unmatched spiritual capital, institutional reach, and community trust. However, without deliberate transformation in leadership, theology, and practice, they risk becoming complicit in the marginalisation of the very people they claim to serve. A gender-sensitive, justice-oriented, and youth-inclusive Church is not only necessary for authentic peacebuilding but is also a moral imperative in a society still healing from the wounds of political violence.
9. Recommendations
Based on the findings, this study makes the following recommendations:
Institutionalise Gender-Inclusive Leadership in Churches: Churches must move beyond tokenism and actively restructure their leadership models to include women in decision-making bodies. This includes ordaining women, involving them in peace committees, and allowing them to lead restorative justice initiatives. Sustainable peace cannot emerge from structures that replicate exclusion.
Integrate Psychosocial and Trauma-Informed Services in Church Programmes: The emotional and psychological trauma described by participants necessitates a more comprehensive response than spiritual platitudes. Churches should partner with psychologists, social workers, and trauma counsellors to create safe spaces for storytelling, grief processing, and community healing.
Establish Economic Justice and Empowerment Programmes for Women: Economic exclusion is a recurring dimension of political violence. Churches, with their broad networks and resource mobilisation capabilities, should establish livelihood support programmes targeting women, widows, and displaced families. This would complement their pastoral work with tangible recovery initiatives.
Create Child- and Youth-Centred Peacebuilding Platforms: Children and youth must be viewed not just as victims but as agents of peace. Churches should create forums for youth expression and leadership, integrating their insights into post-violence programming. This will not only empower younger generations but also promote intergenerational healing and participation.
Advance Prophetic Theology and Public Advocacy: The Church must shift from neutrality to active moral engagement. It should use its spiritual authority to advocate for justice, accountability, and policy reforms that protect victims and punish perpetrators. Peace without justice is merely pacification.
Train Clergy in Gender and Conflict Sensitivity: Church leaders require formal training in gender dynamics, conflict sensitivity, and human rights to effectively serve their communities. This would help dismantle harmful theological interpretations that justify silence, submission, or victim-blaming, particularly in the aftermath of sexual violence.
Collaborate with Civil Society and State Institutions: Churches cannot build peace in isolation. Strategic partnerships with NGOs, transitional justice bodies, and government departments are essential for holistic peacebuilding that bridges the gap between spiritual care and socio-political change.