A Day in the Life of an Epidemiologist in Zimbabwe

"What do you think an epidemiologist does?” It’s a question I love to ask when meeting new people. The answers I get range from “a scientist in a lab coat surrounded by bubbling chemicals” to “someone who knows everything about diseases.” While I can’t blame anyone for their guesses, my work as an epidemiologist with MSF is a bit different—and a lot more grounded. Think of it as a mix between detective work and data analysis. In my current role, I have the privilege of supporting two very different but equally important projects in Zimbabwe. Each one tells a unique story about the challenges and triumphs of bringing healthcare to those who need it most.

Adolescent and Sexual Reproductive Health Care in Mbare

Let me start with Mbare, a vibrant and bustling neighborhood in Harare, where we run an Adolescent Sexual and Reproductive Health Clinic and youth hub. It’s not just a clinic; it’s a safe haven for young people navigating the complexities of adolescence. The Mbare project is all about reducing morbidity and mortality among adolescents and young people in Mbare, Epworth, and nearby communities. How do we do this? By offering comprehensive, adolescent-friendly healthcare services tailored to their unique needs.

Here, young people can access everything from sexual and reproductive health services to mental health support—all provided in a way that respects their privacy and dignity. It’s not just about treatment; it’s about creating a space where they feel empowered to take charge of their health. Every time I visit Mbare, I’m struck by the energy and resilience of the young people we serve. Whether it’s a teenager asking thoughtful questions about contraception or a young mother seeking care for her baby, each encounter is a reminder of why this work matters.

Mobile Clinics in Gwanda

A few hundred kilometers away, in the arid landscapes of Gwanda, lies a very different story. Here, MSF operates mobile clinics, bringing primary healthcare services to miners and rural communities in collaboration with the Ministry of Health. Picture this: a truck converted into a fully equipped clinic, navigating dusty roads to reach people who might otherwise have difficult access to medical care. Our services cover everything from general outpatient care to HIV testing and treatment, sexually transmitted infections (STIs) management, mental health (MH), sexual and reproductive health (SRH), and non-communicable disease (NCD) management.

The miners, often working in harsh and isolated conditions, face unique health challenges. Many suffer from injuries, respiratory issues, and the stigma associated with conditions like STIs or HIV. The mobile clinics bridge a crucial gap, offering not just treatment but also education and support. It’s a reminder of how critical it is to meet people where they are. 

I spend my days following outbreaks, analysing programme outcomes and supporting research initiatives. Sure, it might sound glamorous, but here’s the reality: most of my time is spent staring at spreadsheets, typing away at a laptop or flipping through dusty old registers. But here’s the thing: every number, every data point, and every trend I uncover represents something bigger. These aren’t just rows in a spreadsheet—they’re the lives of patients, the outcomes of treatments and the story of the impact our medical services are making. It’s humbling to know that beneath all the numbers lies the heartbeat of our mission. 

The Freedom to Roam: Exploring Zimbabwe

One of the biggest differences between my current assignment in Zimbabwe and my past assignments with MSF is the freedom to explore. In some of my previous assignments, security concerns restricted movement to just two places: the hospital and the house. The days were filled with the sounds of gunfire in the distance, and we were always prepared to retreat to the safe room at a moment’s notice. It was a routine of survival, and stepping outside wasn’t even an option. Here in Zimbabwe, it’s a completely different story. The peaceful atmosphere has been a refreshing change and, for the first time in years, I’ve been able to travel and experience the beauty of the country.  

The Bitter and the Sweet

Zimbabwe is a land of contrasts. It’s home to breathtaking landscapes—Victoria Falls, mountains and endless savannas. Yet, it also faces serious challenges. Cholera outbreaks, malnutrition and drought are stark reminders of the struggles people endure. It’s a humbling experience, knowing the beauty and hardships coexist so closely. And in the midst of these challenges, we do our best to bring relief and care to those who need it most.

Coping with Homesickness: Gardening and Cooking

Humanitarian work is rewarding but tough, especially when you’re far from home. Everyone has their own way of coping, and for me, it’s gardening and cooking. At first, gardening seemed like a relaxing escape, but it became a source of stress as I worried about my plants' survival! Early mornings and late-night watering became a routine, adding more anxiety than calm. 

Cooking, however, has been my true comfort. It allows me to reconnect with home and share familiar meals with colleagues. Despite the challenges of both gardening and cooking, they serve as reminders to slow down and find joy in the small things—even when far from home. 

For cooking, I go and get my ingredients from Mbare Fresh Vegetables Market nearby our project. It’s a whirlwind of colours, sounds, and people. Some call me “Chinese,” others “Murungu” (white), and occasionally I respond with a smile and a phrase in Shona: “Diri mu Shona” (I am a Shona person). The surprise on their faces is priceless and usually followed by a heartfelt “God bless you!”  

Goodbye? No, I’d rather say see you again, Zim!

As my assignment comes to a close, I reflect on the meaningful connections and lessons learned during my time here. Being away from home for a year is challenging, but the friendships I’ve formed, and the experiences shared are treasures I’ll carry with me. Life as a humanitarian worker is full of ups and downs and saying goodbye is always the hardest part. When you spend months or years in a place, bonds with colleagues feel like family, and it’s never easy to leave.

One of my colleagues made a light-hearted suggestion: “Seinn, leave me your hair when you go. I’ll say, ‘Seinn is in my heart and on my head!’” Apparently, Asian hair is in high demand, fetching hundreds of dollars as wigs. I haven’t decided if I’ll leave my hair behind, but I am growing it longer—just in case.

I remain grateful for the experiences and the country that welcomed me. Zimbabwe has given me so much, and I hope my story offers a glimpse into the life of an MSF epidemiologist in this beautiful, resilient land.