Urban farming and the struggle for food self-sustenance
WHILE there is no doubt that the Zimbabwean economy is agrarian, a lot of families are still living off the small pieces of land at their disposal despite the Government’s Land Reform Programme that gave the black majority ownership of the resource that was in the hands of an elite white few.
An agrarian economy by definition means an economy that relies primarily on agriculture and whose major factor of production is agricultural land. This informed the government to parcel out land to the landless in a bid to economically empower them and make them food selfsufficient, relieving the burden to feed the population off its shoulder.
But not everyone did get the land. Urbanites like Ms Sinikiwe Phiri (47) of Sizinda in Bulawayo whose late father was of Malawian origin did not. She had never known rural life as her late father never bothered to build a home when he came looking for work in the country. Sizinda therefore became their home.
She is a single mother of four who used to work as a maid for a white couple before her employers relocated to South Africa. She was left with no source of income and had to create space for a tenant in the small three-roomed house that her father left.
Ms Phiri could hardly afford to buy basic foodstuffs for her children and decided to go into urban farming to cushion herself from the vagaries of the harsh economy characterised by stagflation in the years gone by and perhaps provide enough food for her children.
With so many other urban dwellers in the same socioeconomic predicament they started clearing land they allocated themselves in the outskirts of the suburb or in between suburbs.
The cleared land became their fields. The land identified for farming purposes included stream banks and other open spaces they saw lying idle. And like their rural counterparts they started growing maize as the staple crop, but as fate would dictate successive councils would mercilessly descend on the maize crop, slashing the crop to the ground, leaving Ms Phiri and others counting their loses.
“It was hard, painful in fact, that when we were looking forward to the crop giving us something you would wake up to find the city council had slashed everything. We did not tire. The situation at home was not such that you would count your loses and relax. We were the meat in a sandwich and that was uncomfortable.
“We therefore would soldier on, hoping and praying that whatever they would have left would be spared for good. It is not that we enjoy farming on undesignated land but the desperation of our situation forces us to endure the torturous exertion. We have families to feed and we are not working, Zimbabwe (Frolizi) with Chikerema as its president.
Soon thereafter, Zapu and Zanu formed a military alliance known as the Zimbabwe People’s Army. (Zipa) headed by the Zanu national chairman, Advocate Hebert Chitepo, as the chairman, and JZ as the secretary. It was while Zipa was still finding its feet that Dr Joshua Nkomo and other detainees were released.
An attempt was made to unite the four nationalist organizations, Zapu, Zanu, the ANC and Frolizi under Rev Muzorewa’s leadership. That attempt was made under the auspices of Zambia’s President Dr Kenneth Kaunda on 7 December 1974.
Because of personality and political differences, the attempt failed, resulting in Zapu and Zanu pulling out but Frolizi remained as part of the Muzorewa-led ANC.
Dr Joshua Nkomo returned to Zimbabwe to organise an ANC congress which elected him as the ANC President. Following his election to the African National Council’s presidency, he decided to engage Ian Smith in discussions about the future of the country.
According to Dr Joshua Nkomo, the only African leaders Ian Smith and his Rhodesian Front colleagues had met before then were traditional chiefs almost all of whom were at that time functionally illiterate. So Dr Nkomo went into talks with Smith to give him an opportunity to hear genuine African political opinion. It was not Dr Nkomo’s wish or hope that Smith would, or should, or could convene a constitutional conference to transfer power from the white settler minority to the indigenous masses of Zimbabwe. That was a responsibility of the colonial power, Britain, and not its white settler agent, the Rhodesian regime of Ian Smith.
Dr Nkomo was misunderstood on this and was widely criticised. Among those who severely criticised him was JZ Moyo, a pioneer nationalist who had gone through thick and thin with Dr Nkomo since 1950 when they together with four other patriots visited the Mwali shrine at Dula in Matabeleland South to ask for power and guidance to free the country. They were told that it would take them 30 years to get it back from the white settlers.
From that time, JZ worked closely with Nkomo through two organisations, the African National Congress and the National Democratic Party, both of which were outlawed the economy is bad,” said Ms Phiri.
She said they understood that the city council would be enforcing its by-laws but said they were not wearing a human face.
This scenario is not confined to Sizinda alone, neither is it a Bulawayo story. It resonates on how most Zimbabwean urbanites who, because of the pressing economy, are found allocating themselves pieces of land where they do farming for sustenance at household level.
It is not a new phenomenon given that the country’s economy is agrarian-based and its socio-economic polity is underpinned by agricultural activity hence the food security responsibility that it used to shoulder in the regional bloc — Sadc.
Although agriculture in Zimbabwe’s urban areas is of two types — on-plot and off-plot farming, it is the latter that most people practise. In off-plot urban agriculture, most land that is utilised is public land. This includes land reserved by councils for future developments such as housing, industry, roads, vacant residential stands, public service servitudes, recreation facilities, ecological lungs and vleiland.
Illegal title to off-plot land is based on the “first claim” basis — those who clear land for cultivation first claim it as theirs. The perception among urban producers who cultivate public land is that this is idle land, an under-utilised scarce resource which can be put to immediate productive use for household self-provisioning.
Interestingly however, there are spine chilling stories told as some residents use black magic in the fights over land and boundaries. Ms Phiri confirmed both sickness and deaths as people engage in fights for the council land in their struggle for survival.
“People fight for this land. The issue of land ownership and boundaries is not an easy one, encroaching into another person’s piece of land is enough to cause a fight. We have seen people fighting for the land physically while others go to the extent of using black magic to harm or even kill the other person. We have seen it. We have also witnessed people using umuthi to harm thieves, it’s all a mixed bag of everything,” she said with a chuckle.
She admitted that the production entitlement was improving dietary diversity, food self-sufficiency at household level and nutritional intake, adding that a few farmers produce surplus which was traded in informal township markets. Income raised — which gives these farmers exchange entitlement — is used for other household necessities such as basic medication, transport fares and other food commodities.
However, despite the evident benefits of urban agriculture to the farmers, its potential is constrained by a complex of factors that include land tenure insecurity, erratic water access, small plot sizes, inadequate capital for optimising plot productivity and ambivalent application of urban landuse laws.
And unlike in previous years where it was an activity mostly for women, recent trends are showing a shift to a gender-balanced activity where men are also taking an active role mostly due to the need to supplement family food supplies.
Urban farming is also no longer confined to that have no rural homes like Ms Phiri, but is now being practised by almost everyone, even those who own acres of land in their rural areas while some practise it on their backyards for it enhances food security at family level and lessens the burden on national food reliance figures.
Some are not limiting themselves to growing crops alone but are practising poultry too while some go further to do quails and even rabbits. These are however, projects known traditionally to be practised in rural areas but the pressure for food and the need to fulfil the Government’s thrust of economic empowerment has seen a growing number of urban farmers emerging.
Bulawayo City Council ( BCC) Town Clerk Mr Christopher Dube said due to the harsh economic environment council was allowing residents to participate in agricultural activities but urged residents to avoid stream bank cultivation whose environment effects he said were known. He said residents should actively participate in urban farming.
“We know that times are hard so we’re encouraging urban agricultural activities. Food security is very important. If they (residents) find places to cultivate they should go ahead and cultivate. Those who’re not sure of the areas they want to cultivate should engage council. What we do not want is for them to practise stream bank cultivation that has a danger of siltation and sometimes choking our pipes and affecting our sewer system,” said Mr Dube.
The council’s position complements the Government’s stance that through agricultural activities the country would have sufficient food for two seasons.
The Government has embarked on command agriculture where it is assisting farmers with farming inputs. The programme was bankrolled to the tune of $500 million.
Although the city council is not giving farming inputs to urban farmers, it made a commendable climb down from previous years by supporting agricultural activities aimed at boosting food security.
The town clerk strongly warned residents against practising stream bank farming saying anyone found wanting would be dealt with.
Mr Dube said stream bank cultivation is damaging the environment and the council would descend heavily on those practising it.
“We won’t negotiate with them but destroy whatever they would have planted. Stream bank farming leads to siltation which is not good for the environment,” said Mr Dube.
Environmental Management Agency (EMA) manager for Bulawayo Mr Descent Ndlovu weighed on saying stream bank cultivation was environmentally unfriendly. Mr Ndlovu said those involved in any agricultural activities should plant their crops 30 metres from the streams.
“Stream bank farming results in siltation of rivers. Siltation occurs as a result of loosening of soils through cultivation. There is also the danger of dangerous chemicals such as fertilisers being washed into the rivers in the process but our biggest worry is siltation,” said Mr Ndlovu.
is a domesticated word that I first heard spoken by my inventive father in the postindependence era. Apparently, it is derived from two English words, “food” and “work”. Father never went to school and his patriotic tongue by no means succumbed to the dictates of the Queen’s language. Rightly so, why would his mouth have been the executioner and cemetery for the IsiNdebele vowels ( onkamisa), at the end of each word or name? I call it oral patriotism and loyalty.
Divizhini. My father, Menyezwa, was not alone in the business of language innovation. My other father, I had many fathers then, Qeda or uSekaSihle, referred to World Vision as “Divizhini.” Theirs was an enduring effort at domesticating foreign words to make them palatable to our obedient oral apparatus. In both instances, the enduring theme is one of food assistance. Rains failed. Cattle succumbed to a severe drought. Without external assistance, the people would certainly have perished. Fuduweki and Divizhini are buzz words that symbolise hope in a hopeless situation. They are words that slake people’s profoundly parched lips.
The southern part of Matobo District in Matabeleland South hardly receives meaningful rainfall. Rainfall is not only marginal but also unreliable. Drought is more consistent from year to year. In September 2016 I visited to my home district to assess the state of food shortages and the mitigating measures being put in place. The old, the sick and the young are the most vulnerable sections of the community under Headman Alfred Lemakatso Nyathi, in Ward 1 also known as the Silebuho Ward that borders with Botswana in the south.
Both government and Non Governmental Organisations (NGOs) have a presence within Babirwa or Sankonjana communities. While for many years it was “Divizhini” which came to the community’s rescue this time it is Oxfam and Organisation of Rural Association for Progress (Orap). I was informed that Government is against free handouts. The community must do some work in exchange for food-hence father’s term, “fuduweki”. The community is organised into villages, each under the leadership of a village head ( usobhuku).
The deteriorating road infrastructure is usually the target for the fuduweki programme. From Homestead through Tudi 1 and Tudi 2, the road is treacherous. The same situation prevails from Mhlonhlweni to Babirwa/ Sankonjana. Villages take turns to work on the roads. In recent times vehicular traffic has improved. Not so long ago Zamazama, a lorry belonging to Headman Lemakatso and Pelandaba buses were the only forms of transport available. Fuduweki thus comes handy in improving the local road infrastructure.
The other buzz word in the field of food assistance that one comes across in “mushandira”. The word comes from ChiShona language. Apparently, it is the short version of mushandira pamwe, meaning collective work. The popularity of one programme over others depends on its bouquet of food items on offer, ranging from mealie-meal to beans and cooking oil. Mushandira, I was informed, had become unpopular largely due to its limited offering.
Times are changing; so are people’s tastes. When we grew up at Babirwa/Sankonjana the only cooking oil we knew about was ulaza, milk fat, derived from cows’ curdling milk. Later we began to see the arrival of “dripping” and “Holsum” in the area. Both had some semblance to ulaza. Now it is a whole mind boggling range of cooking oils ranging from Olivine to Roil and Zimgold, which in terms of colour share a lot in common with cows’ urine. Milk fat has been totally substituted by these commercial oils.
Interestingly, the days of ulaza were days of self-reliance despite the climate being unfriendly in terms of food production. In those days there were granaries and grain pits in cattle byres. Community members knew very well that they were on their own. They worked hard to fend for themselves and their children. There were no NGOs to fall back on. When crops failed there were alternatives that the resilient community members turned to. The colonial government came to their rescue in extreme situations such as in 1947 when maize grain was imported from Kenya. Those were the days of isikundamoyo, the yellow maize meal. Ulaza exited the cuisine theatre together with granaries and the spirit of self-reliance. Granaries gave way to plastic grain bags with food aid. The age of cooking oil and sugar beans — the full bouquet, marked the era of dependence. Fuduweki! Divizhini! Mushandira, a few glistening beads of sweat to receive some handouts. The small grains, itsweta/ itsheta, and the millets (pearl and finger), that we used to grow gave way to maize introduced by the Portuguese from South America. Independence opened the doors wide to dependence. After 14 days Oxfam and Orap provide a 50 kg bag of maize meal. Those entitled to receive the maize make bee lines to Kafusi, KoManuka, the ward centre, to receive their dues. Equally, those working on roads as part of fuduweki receive 50 kg bags of maize meal.
The community is being encouraged to undertake community development projects. Infrastructural amenities such as schools and clinics are targeted for refurbishment and extension. The rural clinic at Sankonjana now embraces facilities for expectant mothers who must spend time at the clinic awaiting their time to deliver.