By Mildred Sigwadhi, Registered Counselling Psychologist
The images emerging from Lake Kariba are difficult to comprehend. Families waiting for news. Survivors trying to make sense of what happened. Coffins being prepared. Relatives anxiously waiting for the recovery and identification of loved ones. Children asking questions that adults themselves struggle to answer. The Kariba boat tragedy is not simply a transport disaster. It is a profound human tragedy with psychological consequences that may continue long after the search-and-recovery operation has ended.
The ferry Mbuya Nehanda capsized on Lake Kariba on 11 August 2026. The death toll has since risen to 94, making it Zimbabwe’s deadliest transport disaster on record, while 77 people were rescued and recovery efforts continued. Reports indicate that the vessel was carrying substantially more passengers than its stated capacity.
As Zimbabwe mourns, our attention must therefore extend beyond the physical rescue of survivors and recovery of bodies. We must also ask: How do we rescue people psychologically from the aftermath of such a catastrophe?
Trauma does not end when a survivor leaves the water
For those who survived the accident, escaping from the water may have been only the beginning of another struggle. A traumatic event is one in which an individual experiences or witnesses actual or threatened death, serious injury or other overwhelming circumstances. The psychological response can include intense fear, helplessness, shock, confusion and a profound disruption of one’s sense of safety. Survivors may experience nightmares, intrusive memories, difficulty sleeping, anxiety, irritability, emotional numbness, difficulty concentrating or fear of travelling on boats or being near water.
Some may repeatedly replay the incident in their minds:
What if I had done something differently?
Why did I survive?
Why did my friend, spouse, child or relative not survive?
This last question can be particularly painful. It may result in what is commonly described as survivor guilt, the distress associated with surviving when others have died. However, we should be careful not to assume that every survivor will develop a mental disorder. Human beings respond differently to trauma, and many people demonstrate remarkable resilience. The important thing is to create an environment in which those who need psychological assistance can receive it without stigma.
The World Health Organization recommends Psychological First Aid (PFA) following serious crisis events. PFA is not about forcing survivors to recount the traumatic experience or immediately conducting intensive therapy. It involves humane, supportive and practical assistance that protects dignity, promotes safety and helps people reconnect with available sources of support.
The pain of waiting: when grief has no certainty
Perhaps one of the most psychologically painful dimensions of this tragedy is the experience of families whose loved ones have not yet been found or positively identified. Ordinary bereavement is already painful, but when there is uncertainty about whether a loved one is alive or dead, the grieving process can become even more complicated.
Psychologist Pauline Boss describes this experience through the concept of ambiguous loss; a loss in which there is no clear resolution or certainty. Her work emphasises that people facing ambiguous loss may struggle because the person is physically absent but psychologically still present. Imagine being unable to say with certainty: “My husband has died.”
Imagine instead having to live with: “We are still waiting for his body to be found”. That uncertainty can suspend grief.
A mother may continue hoping that her child will somehow be found alive. A husband may keep his telephone switched on. A family may struggle to begin mourning because they are still waiting for confirmation.
This is why we should be cautious about telling bereaved families that they simply need “closure”. Closure is not a button that somebody else can press for a grieving person. Families need information, dignity, support, opportunities to mourn, culturally meaningful rituals and, where possible, confirmation of what happened to their loved ones.
Sometimes healing does not mean achieving complete certainty. It means gradually learning how to live with a reality that is painful and, in some circumstances, incomplete. Boss argues that therapeutic work with ambiguous loss should focus not on forcing closure but on developing resilience while living with uncertainty.
Grief has no timetable
There is another message Zimbabweans need to hear: there is no correct way to grieve. One person may cry openly. Another may become quiet. Someone may want to talk repeatedly about the deceased, while another may not be ready to speak at all.
Some people may return to work quickly. Others may struggle to perform ordinary tasks. None of these reactions automatically means that a person is grieving “incorrectly”. Grief is not a straight line. A person may seem to be coping well today and experience an intense emotional reaction, weeks or months later when confronted by a photograph, a song, a birthday, a familiar place or the anniversary of the tragedy. We, therefore need to replace statements such as “You must be strong” or “You need to move on” with something more compassionate: For example, “Take the time you need. We are here with you.”
Children are grieving too
The psychological needs of children affected by this tragedy require particular attention. Children may not always have the vocabulary to say, “I am traumatised.” Instead, their distress may appear through behaviour. A child may become unusually clingy, aggressive, withdrawn or fearful. Another may experience nightmares, bedwetting, physical complaints, separation anxiety or difficulties at school. Children may repeatedly draw pictures of water, boats or people being rescued. Others may repeatedly play out scenes connected with the disaster. Adults should not automatically interpret these behaviours as misbehaviour. They may be a child’s way of communicating distress.
Children need honest but age-appropriate information. Adults should avoid giving false promises, but should also avoid exposing children to unnecessary graphic details. They need reassurance, predictable routines, loving adults and opportunities to ask questions. They should also be allowed to grieve in ways appropriate to their developmental level, for example, through talking, drawing, play, storytelling, prayer and culturally meaningful rituals.
The World Health Organization recognises children and adolescents as a particularly important population during humanitarian emergencies because disasters can disrupt their support systems and trigger or worsen psychological difficulties.
The trauma may spread beyond the survivors
It is tempting to think that only people who were physically on the boat have been traumatised. But disasters of this magnitude can produce collective trauma. Families, friends, rescuers, health workers, police officers, religious leaders, funeral workers and members of the wider community can all be psychologically affected.
Consider the people who have been involved in recovering bodies from the lake. They may repeatedly encounter scenes that are extremely difficult to process. Consider the healthcare workers who have treated survivors. Consider the officials who have had to communicate devastating news to families. Consider the relatives who have spent days waiting for information. They too need psychological support. We must therefore resist the assumption that the helpers are automatically strong simply because they are helping others. Those who care for traumatised people also need someone to care for them (The carer needs to be cared for too, under such circumstances).
What should psychological support look like?
The response should not consist simply of sending counsellors, psychologists and social workers to speak to people after funerals. A comprehensive psychosocial response should occur across different stages.
In the immediate aftermath, Psychological First Aid should focus on safety, practical support, stabilisation, accurate information, connection with family and community resources, and protection from further harm. WHO emphasises that helpers should listen without pressuring distressed people to disclose their experiences. As the crisis progresses, affected individuals can be linked with more specialised psychological services where necessary.
Research by Hobfoll and colleagues identified five important principles for mass-trauma intervention which are: promoting a sense of safety, calming, self- and community efficacy, connectedness and hope. These principles are highly relevant to Kariba.
People need to feel safe again. They need opportunities to calm their nervous systems. They need to experience that they and their communities can still do something constructive. They need connection with others and, perhaps most importantly, they need hope; not false promises, but hope that life can eventually be rebuilt despite what has happened.
We must also protect families from secondary trauma
In this age of social media, tragedy can be replayed endlessly. Videos, photographs, rumours and graphic images can circulate within minutes. We must therefore ask ourselves, whether every image needs to be shared simply because it is available. Families should not have to discover distressing information about their loved ones through social media.
Journalists and members of the public have a responsibility to protect dignity and privacy. We should avoid sensationalising suffering, repeatedly interviewing people who are visibly distressed or circulating unverified information about missing persons. The public’s right to information must be balanced with the family’s right to dignity.
What can an ordinary person do for a grieving family?
Sometimes people avoid bereaved families because they do not know what to say. We do not need perfect words. We can simply say:
“I am so sorry.”
“I am here with you.”
“I don’t know what to say, but I am here.”
We can listen. We can cook a meal. We can assist with children. We can help with practical arrangements. We can check on the family weeks after the funeral, when the crowds have gone home. And we should avoid statements such as:
“Be strong.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“You have to move on.”
“At least you still have other children.”
“I know exactly how you feel.”
We cannot take away another person’s pain, but we can make sure they do not carry it alone.
From rescue to psychological recovery
The Kariba tragedy should remind us that disaster response cannot stop at rescuing survivors and recovering bodies. There is another rescue that must take place; the rescue of people’s psychological wellbeing. This requires collaboration between government, health professionals, counsellors, psychologists, social workers, schools, churches, traditional and community leaders, civil society organisations and local communities. It requires special attention to children, survivors, families facing ambiguous loss, people involved in body recovery and other frontline responders. It also requires sustained support.
A counselling session immediately after the tragedy is not necessarily the end of the intervention. Some psychological difficulties emerge later, when the immediate crisis has passed and the wider community has moved on. For some families, the hardest moment may come after the funeral, when everyone else returns to normal life but their world remains permanently changed.
A message to the bereaved
To the families who have lost loved ones, and especially to those still waiting for the recovery and identification of their relatives, there are no words adequate enough to describe the pain you are carrying. You do not have to pretend that you are okay. You do not have to grieve according to somebody else’s timetable or way of grieving. You do not have to stop loving the person you have lost in order to continue living. And where uncertainty remains, you do not have to apologise for still hoping, still waiting or still asking questions.
May you be surrounded by people who listen rather than judge, support rather than instruct, and walk with you rather than tell you how quickly you should heal. And may we, as a nation, remember that mourning is not weakness. Grief is the price we sometimes pay for having loved deeply. And men can cry too. The physical rescue from Lake Kariba may eventually end but the psychological rescue must continue for as long as people need help finding their way back to safety, connection, meaning and hope.
Mildred Sigwadhi is a Registered Counselling Psychologist and a Lecturer at Reformed Church University.
