Growing Up in Zimbabwe

Your teenage years are formative years. I turned 13 when hyperinflation hit Zimbabwe.

At that age, starting high school and feeling confident and full of possibility, I had no real understanding of what a term like hyperinflation meant. Almost overnight, normal life was turned upside down. Supermarket shelves emptied, food became scarce, and petrol shortages meant queuing for hours, sometimes days, just to fill a tank.

A billion dollars went from making you generationally wealthy to buying a single loaf of bread. Prices changed hourly. What had value in the morning could be worth far less by the afternoon.

This period marked the beginning of land reform in Zimbabwe, a process heavily criticised internationally and followed by sanctions that led to economic collapse. For a teenager, it was confusing, destabilising, and impossible to ignore.

Opportunity in the Midst of Chaos

In an economy where everyday goods become rare, opportunity always exists.

I got my driver’s licence at 16 and quickly found ways to earn money. My school sat at the bottom of a hill, so I would put the pickup truck in neutral and roll down to save fuel. Public transport in the area was unreliable, so in the afternoons I would load local workers into the back of the truck and drive them two kilometres to the nearest bus transit point.

At roughly one dollar per person and ten people per trip, it became a steady income for a very short drive.

Fuel itself was often sourced through underground markets. My father, a surgeon working in a public hospital, was sometimes paid in fuel coupons instead of cash. That fuel was what I used to get to school. Because my fuel consumption was low, my friends and I would siphon the surplus and sell it to teachers.

Who said you don’t learn enterprise at school?

I was a reckless teenage entrepreneur dabbling in fuel, transport, technology, and video production. I wasn’t investing in anything meaningful. The money mostly funded dates and social life. But in an unstable economy, learning how to adapt was survival.

Growing Up Fast

Attending one of the country’s most prestigious schools during an economic meltdown came with its own pressure. Even without money, society still expected you to appear wealthy. Many families were exploiting the chaos to build rapid wealth, and keeping up appearances was expensive for a teenager generating his own income.

Childhood was unstable. We moved frequently. Eventually, my father left the country in search of stability and opportunity for our family. I had to grow up quickly, learning how to be street-smart to survive daily life while remaining academically focused to earn a chance to leave Zimbabwe.

My parents lived under constant stress, trying to provide for three children while navigating shortages of food, electricity, water, and money that lost value by the hour.

Where Art Entered My Life

Art became an escape, not just for me but for many of my peers.

The art classroom was alive during the week and often on weekends. We created, experimented, and gathered there. I remember burning CDs with pirated music just to play on the stereo while we worked. Students who weren’t enrolled in art classes would turn up with skateboards simply to hang out.

Art gave us space to breathe.

I broke every rule around technique, something I still do today, much to the frustration of my teacher at the time. But art wasn’t about perfection. It was about expression and release in a world that felt increasingly restrictive.

Finding Faith

I grew up in an ultra-conservative Christian household. My mother was deeply committed to faith. My father believed he already knew everything about God and didn’t feel the need to attend church.

Every Saturday morning, we dressed in our best clothes and went to church. At the time, it was routine rather than belief for me. I would sneak out during the service and run home. Eventually, my mother stopped forcing me to attend, and I began playing sport on Saturday mornings instead.

Somewhere in that season, God began working in my heart. Quietly but persistently. I was eventually baptised, marking the beginning of a faith journey that would later take me to Australia.

This was only the beginning.

What’s Next

This chapter shaped who I am, how I see the world, and how I create.

This story continues in  Part 2, A New Nation, Calling, Obedience, and the Birth of Art By Kudzi .