Cresencia Chiremba

LAST week I wrote a piece titled Back from a Long Sabbatical and Hungry on Rezende Street. This week I am writing about something far less poetic but no less revealing: a newly installed smart water meter that began to leak, and the shrug that followed when I reported it.
The meter was supposed to be a small victory for modernisation — a way to measure consumption accurately and stop invisible losses. Instead, a steady drip exposed a larger problem: a service culture that treats small faults as inconveniences rather than the start of bigger losses.

I reported the leak to the relevant authorities and was told maintenance teams would be dispatched. They kept their word: men arrived to inspect the meter. What should have been a routine repair turned awkward when one of the technicians complained openly. He said the leak was “not that much,” and that they had walked a long distance to get there. His tone suggested the effort outweighed the value of fixing the problem. That reaction surprised me.

Every drop counts. Smart meters exist to capture consumption precisely so households and utilities can manage water and money better. A leaking meter is not just a minor annoyance; it is a continuing loss — penny by penny, litre by litre. When a technician dismisses a leak because it seems small, the customer is left wondering who the system is really serving: the public or the convenience of the workforce.

There are two obvious places to look for blame. First, the employer: why are maintenance crews walking long distances to attend faults? If transport is not provided, or if teams are understaffed and under-resourced, the system is set up to fail. Expecting field workers to shoulder the cost of getting to jobs is unfair and unsustainable.

It breeds resentment and, as I witnessed, a lackadaisical attitude toward small but important repairs. Second, management culture: are technicians trained and incentivised to treat every report seriously? A culture that tolerates dismissive behaviour will always produce it.

Whether the reason is low pay, poor supervision, or simply a lack of accountability, the result is the same — customers feel neglected and the utility loses credibility.
So what are customers supposed to do? Should we accept indifference because the leak seems “small”? Absolutely not. There are practical steps households can take. Document the problem: take photos, note dates and times, and keep a record of calls and promises.

Escalate politely: if the first team is dismissive, ask for a supervisor or lodge a formal complaint. Use public pressure: local newspapers, community WhatsApp groups, or social media can move things faster than private calls. Know your rights: utilities usually have service charters; insist on them being honoured. These actions help, but they are stopgaps. The real fix must come from the utility and the municipality.

This episode is symptomatic of a larger mismatch between technology and service delivery. Smart meters are only as good as the systems that support them. You can install thousands of meters, but if the field teams are underfunded, poorly managed, or demoralised, the promise of efficiency evaporates. Utilities must invest in logistics: reliable transport, reasonable workloads, and clear response-time targets.

They must also invest in people: training that emphasises customer service, and performance measures that reward responsiveness rather than indifference. Kana munhu akasvika pamba achiti “hazvina kukura,” that is a management failure, not a customer problem.
Beyond logistics and training, there is an element of perception that needs addressing. Many people still see water as endlessly available, a tap that will always run.

That mindset makes it easier for small leaks to be ignored until they become costly. Smart meters were supposed to change that by making every litre visible, by turning abstraction into numbers on a screen. But visibility alone is not enough. If the people tasked with fixing problems are demotivated or unsupported, the technology becomes a paper tiger — impressive in theory, impotent in practice.

Local authorities and utility managers must also be honest with the public about constraints. If budgets are tight and transport is limited, say so — and explain the plan to fix it. Transparency builds trust; silence breeds suspicion. Communities can be powerful partners when they understand the trade-offs and are invited into the solution.

Simple measures — scheduled maintenance days, community reporting hubs, or even small transport allowances for field crews — would reduce friction and improve outcomes. A modest investment in a van or a fuel allowance could save far more in recovered water and customer goodwill than it costs.

At the end of the day, a leaking smart meter is a small thing that reveals big problems. It exposes gaps in logistics, training, and organisational priorities. It also offers a clear path to improvement: treat every report seriously, equip teams properly, and hold the system to account. Until then, every drop that slips through a faulty meter will be a reminder that technology alone cannot solve public-service failures. Tiri tese pano — the water, the workers, and the customers — and we all deserve better.

*Cresencia Marjorie Chiremba is a Marketing, Sales & Customer Service Consultant. For suggestions and training, contact her at [email protected] or
+263 712 979 461 / 0719 978 335 / 0772 978 335.