THERE is a quiet struggle unfolding in many households, one that rarely makes headlines, but shapes the emotional and economic fabric of society.
It is the struggle of raising children, of caring for the elderly, of navigating duty in a world where tradition and modern pressures collide.
In countries such as Zimbabwe, where family obligations are not merely personal choices, but culturally anchored expectations, these tensions run especially deep.
Being a single parent, for instance, remains one of life’s most formidable undertakings. For generations, the belief that a child ought to be raised by two parents, a man and a woman, has been treated as a social ideal and, for some, a moral imperative.
This is not unique to Zimbabwe, it is a norm echoed throughout much of the world. Yet even as societies diversify, the question persists: why does this model endure so powerfully and what unspoken responsibilities flow from it?
Traditional argument
A two-parent, male-female household is assumed to offer a balanced environment in which complementary strengths blend. Historically, the father figure is expected to anchor stability, protection and discipline, while the mother is presumed to provide emotional grounding, nurturance and daily care.
These roles remain deeply-etched in cultural expectations, even when real families look very different. What this model truly gestures toward is not rigid gender assignments, but the deeper notion that children benefit from consistent, reliable and diverse forms of support.
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Two caregivers, in theory, dilute the emotional and financial strain that otherwise rests on one person’s shoulders.
But the modern world, especially in African urban centres, is rapidly outpacing the neatness of this old ideal.
Many households today are marked by emotional distance, parents who are physically present but psychologically absent or adults stretched so thin by economic survival that the quality of their caregiving quietly erodes.
The challenge is not only single parenthood, even dual-parent households are known to crumble under the weight of economic uncertainty, mental health struggles or unresolved inter-generational wounds.
The traditional model may still matter, but its effectiveness depends entirely on the quality of engagement within it.
Conversation multi-faceted
In Zimbabwe, the conversation is even more layered. Here, parenting is not only about raising children for the present, it is tied to a deep-seated cultural logic about the future. Children are expected to become the informal pension system.
They are the insurance policy for old age. They are the hands that will bathe, feed, comfort and bury their parents when the time comes. To reach old age without children, or with children who refuse to care, is widely viewed as a personal failure.
Entrusting elderly parents to an old-age home is often interpreted not as a pragmatic choice but as an embarrassing abdication of duty. It is a mark of shame that whispers: you have failed your mother, your father, your bloodline, your ancestors.
I was reminded of this cultural weight during my experience caring for my 86-year-old mother after a hospital stay. What struck me was not only the physical intensity of caregiving, but the predictable way responsibility clustered along gendered lines.
Daughters, it seems, are still assumed to possess the emotional bandwidth and intimate attentiveness required for elder care.
Sons may contribute financially or make key decisions, but the day-to-day, up-close responsibility often gravitates toward women. This expectation is so normalised that questioning it feels almost subversive.
Yet caregiving readiness is not guaranteed by gender. It is shaped by temperament, health, work schedules, proximity and personal inclination.
Some sons are exceptional caregivers, whereas some daughters are not. Some siblings want to help, but lack the emotional fortitude, others are physically available but emotionally absent. The truth is less tidy than tradition suggests. And still, society often refuses to adjust its narrative.
Generational trauma, implications
One cannot talk about caregiving without confronting the long shadows cast by mental health and the deficits of earlier generations. Many adults today carry wounds from their own childhoods.
These wounds are characterised by neglect, harsh parenting, emotional silences and unspoken traumas. Zimbabwean culture, like many others, has not historically encouraged open conversations about emotional pain. The assumption has long been that survival requires stoicism, not vulnerability. But unresolved trauma does not dissolve, it festers and calcifies, creating distance in parent-child relationships that later complicates elder care.
Intergenerational healing necessary
Blaming parents for their shortcomings seldom heals anything, but neither does pretending that everything is fine. To build healthier families, we must cultivate the courage to acknowledge what broke us.
This is the only path to ensuring we do not pass the same fractures to the next generation. Intergenerational healing is not a sentimental notion, it is a practical necessity for creating environments in which caregiving is not an unbearable chore but an extension of love, respect and understanding.
Different generational choices
This naturally raises the question: is it necessary or wise, to have children merely so they could care for you later on in life? Many people today, especially younger adults, are choosing to opt out of parenthood for reasons that are not frivolous: economic uncertainty, fear of raising a child alone, personal ambition or the simple recognition that they may not have the emotional capacity to nurture another human being.
These choices are valid and deserve respect. But the cultural puzzle remains: what happens when those who choose not to have children age into dependency in a society that assumes adult children are the primary caregivers?
No robust formal eldercare system
Zimbabwe has not invested in a robust formal eldercare system, partly because there is a persistent belief that the family, the biological family, will always step up. Old-age homes remain scarce, underfunded and stigmatised.
To be found in one, as a person of colour, is often interpreted harshly: your children abandoned you or worse, you raised them poorly.
This mindset needs honest re-examination. Care is not only a private matter, it is a societal responsibility. As life expectancy rises and economic pressures reshape family life, communities must reimagine caregiving systems that do not rely solely on biology or cultural obligation.
Extended families, community groups, churches, neighbours, non-governmental organisations and even technology can weave together support structures that ease the burden on individuals. The point is not to replace family but to recognise that families themselves are changing.
Still, even in diverse family configurations, such as, single-parent households, blended families, childless adults, adoptive families, etcetera, one principle remains constant: emotional presence matters more than household structure.
Children thrive where there is consistency, affection, routine and attentive guidance. Aging parents fare well when surrounded by people who check in, coordinate care, provide companionship and step in when health declines. None of this is the exclusive domain of one gender, one marital configuration or one cultural script.
Yet cultural narratives evolve slowly. In Zimbabwe, the unspoken message still reverberates: having children is both a duty and a safeguard. And despite modern alternatives, many people continue to internalise this expectation, choosing parenthood out of fear of future abandonment, rather than genuine desire. It is a fragile motivation upon which to build a family.
Probable more balanced path
l First, households, regardless of their structure, must place emotional availability at the centre of family life. Shared meals, honest conversations and predictable routines build the foundation for stability across generations;
l Second, caregiving roles must be more flexible. Men should not be applauded as heroes for doing what women are expected to do by default. Caregiving should be a shared cultural expectation, not a gendered burden;
l Third, we must plan for uncertainties. Illness, job loss and migration often disrupt even the most stable caregiving systems. Families should discuss contingency plans openly, rather than waiting for a crisis to force decisions; and
l Lastly, communities must normalise and dignify alternative eldercare options. Old-age homes should not be treated as moral failures but as legitimate solutions for families without capacity for 24-hour care. Cultural values could be preserved while still embracing practical support systems.
Conclusion
The heart of the matter is this: the true measure of a family is not its resemblance to a traditional ideal but the integrity of its care. Whether care comes from two parents, one parent, a patchwork of relatives or a supportive community, what matters is the steadiness with which we carry one another through life’s vulnerable passages.
Zimbabwe’s cultural script may still insist that children are the guarantors of security in old age and for many families, this remains meaningful and workable.
But as demographics shift, families fragment and economic pressures intensify, society must prepare for realities that tradition alone cannot carry. The goal is not to dismantle cultural expectations but to enrich them with flexibility, compassion and realism.
In the end, families, whatever their shape or form, exist to nurture continuity, dignity and belonging. If we can hold onto these principles while adapting to changing times, we may finally resolve the conundrum of responsibility without clinging to the rigid models that once guided us, but no longer completely serve us, nor reflect the world we live in.
Ndoro-Mkombachoto is a former academic and banker. She is the chairperson of NetOne Financial Services, a subsidiary of NetOne Telecomms. She has consulted widely in strategy, entrepreneurship, private sector development, financial literacy/inclusion for firms that include Seed Co Africa, Hwange Colliery, Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe, Standard Bank of South Africa Home Loans, International Finance Corporation/World Bank, United Nations Development Programme, United States Agency for International Development, Danish International Development Agency, Canadian International Development Agency, Kellogg Foundation. Ndoro-Mkombachoto is a writer, property investor, manufacturer and keen gardener. Her podcast on YouTube is @HeartfeltWithGloria. — Cell: +263 7713362177/ [email protected]
