By Munacho Gwamanda-A National University of Science and Technology (NUST) lecturer and veteran journalist Methuseli Moyo, has lost US$20,000 in a baffling fire that has tormented him and his family.

The incident underscores a growing crisis in Zimbabwe, where distrust in banks has forced many to keep their money at home—often with devastating consequences.

Moyo had just sold a house in Rangemore suburb and planned to use the proceeds to complete his family’s new home in Pumula North. With confidence in the banking system at an all-time low due to economic instability, he chose to store the cash inside a wooden wardrobe for safekeeping—an ultimately fateful decision.

But in a bizarre and horrifying twist, while the money was reduced to ashes, the wardrobe itself and the clothes inside remained untouched by flames.

“I have been living in hell. Someone is tormenting me, and I don’t know why. These mysterious fires keep erupting, and I have even suffered burns on my back,” a distraught Moyo said during an interview.

He recounted the harrowing events of the Sunday when he lost the cash.

“We had just collected US$20,000 from the house sale. Aware of these strange occurrences, I was planning to wrap the money in a plastic bag and place it in a bucket of water, just in case the fires erupted again,” he explained.

But fate intervened. As he briefly stepped outside to attend to his mechanic, he asked his wife to put the money in the wardrobe.

Moments later, she called him inside for a meal. As soon as they entered the house, they noticed heavy smoke billowing from their bedroom.

Rushing inside, they opened the wardrobe to a horrifying sight—flames engulfing the cash, reducing it to ashes, yet leaving the wooden wardrobe and the clothes completely unscathed.

“You may not believe this, but despite being a wooden wardrobe, it did not catch fire, and the clothes were also not burnt. The fire was only concentrated on the money,” said Moyo, his voice breaking with emotion.

The relentless and inexplicable fires have shattered Moyo’s sense of security, leaving him desperate for answers. 

The flames have devoured all his formal clothes, important documents, and even two of his couches, striking without warning.

Once a pragmatist, Moyo admitted that his ordeal has forced him to consider avenues he never thought he would. 

He has sought help from religious leaders, prophets, and even traditional healers, hoping for a resolution to the nightmare that has consumed his life.

“The fire just erupts anytime. Sengizwile bantu bakithi, ngicela uncedo (I have suffered, my people. I need help),” pleaded Moyo.

Overwhelmed and out of options, Moyo made a heartfelt appeal to the public, seeking any form of assistance—financial, spiritual, or even just words of guidance.

“If ever there is someone out there that I may have wronged unintentionally, and they think that I am aware, please, I am appealing to this person to come forward so that I can apologize,” he said, his voice heavy with sorrow.

He added that he is even willing to compensate his alleged tormentor to bring an end to his suffering.

“I have suffered enough and I can’t take it anymore. My life and that of my family has been turned into a horror movie. We can’t bear it anymore. We have reached a stage where we feel the world must know what we are going through.”

Moyo’s tragic experience is a stark reflection of a broader crisis, where a lack of faith in financial institutions has driven people to store cash in unsafe conditions.

With banks failing to inspire confidence and the economy in turmoil, many Zimbabweans have resorted to stashing their hard-earned money in their homes—under pillows, in cupboards, or even buried underground.

But as Moyo’s ordeal painfully illustrates, this alternative is not without risks. Whether through fire, theft, or unexplained calamities, keeping large sums of money outside the formal banking system can have devastating consequences.

As Zimbabwe grapples with economic uncertainty, Moyo’s story serves as both a cautionary tale and a cry for help in a country where trust in financial institutions continues to erode.