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Many black farmers with new land are struggling to survive. Ann Eveleth reports
When Dorah and Josiah Matlou took out a lease on 200ha of farmland in Rust de Winter, they dreamed of one day becoming part of Africa’s “breadbasket.” But for now the best they can hope for is to turn a tiny profit on the bits and pieces of arable land they have managed, with meagre resources, to carve from the bushveld.
Last year Josiah Matlou (71) was forced to dip into his life savings – a herd of 85 cattle, now shrunk to less than 50 – to cover the losses on the 10ha maize plot he had planted in the rainy season. The harvest he reaped in July, 29 bags of mealie meal, fell far short of expectations, and of what he and his wife needed to feed their seven children, even with income from the odd sale of milk, and the tiny cabbage and morogo patch Dorah nurtures behind the house.
In 1993, Dorah Matlou (45) quit her R600-a- month job as a shop assistant, and Josiah Matlou retired from his job as a foreman on a white farm near Hammanskraal – a job that after 25 years earned him a monthly salary of R130 and an 80kg bag of mealie meal – to take a chance on land reform.
The Matlous are one of about 40 “farmworker” families in the Vuka Nzensele Co-operative trying to eke a living from the fertile but dry agricultural land of Rust de Winter.
The co-operative is one of six groups vying for a piece of the Rust de Winter land, one of three farming areas targeted by the Gauteng Province Land Reform Pilot Program for redistribution, restitution and land tenure reform.
The Matlous had applied for restitution; Josiah Matlou’s forefathers had lived in the area and they believed they had a right to a plot of land. The claim was rejected, so they applied for land through the redistribution programme about four years ago. They are leasing the land in the meantime.
“But what we need most is water,” said Dorah Matlou, pointing to dry ground under the rusted water-pipe by the dilapidated farmhouse they have made their home.
“There was water for three months when we came to Rust de Winter. Then they cut the water. Now they say we must pay for water from the dam, but they won’t give us what the white farmers used to get and we can only irrigate five hectares. Last year we had to farm dry land,” she said, depending on scant rainfall.
Northern Province water affairs chief engineer Jan van Rooyen said the community had not been prevented from drawing water from the Rust de Winter and Rhenosterkop dams, both of which feed the area.
“I’m sure whoever applied got water, but if they are leasing the land they have to pay upfront,” he said.
In a recent meeting with the Rust de Winter farming community, Minister of Water Affairs and Forestry Kader Asmal said there would be 1,5-million cubic metres available to them annually. “That is much less than they had planned on and it is obviously a great source of frustration, but virtually the whole former KwaNdebele also depends on that water,” Van Rooyen said.
Van Rooyen said the new quota provided enough water to irrigate about 450ha of land – a far cry from the 17 000ha irrigated when the land was occupied by white farmers, and even then many failed due to water shortages. New water policies, Van Rooyan said, have forced a review of the entire Rust de Winter project.
But water shortages are not the only obstacles in the way of the Matlous’ dreams. Delays in implementing Rust de Winter’s land reform have forced prospective landowners like the Matlous to sign a succession of one-year leases with the Department of Agriculture.
At R8 per hectare a year, the Matlous’ yearly rental of R1 600 sounds like a bargain. But Josiah Matlou argues that short-term leases have made it impossible to get credit. He spent R5 000 last year to plant 10ha of mealies. He sold the crop – 29 bags of mealie meal – for R2 200.
“I’m going to keep selling cows until I become poorer and poorer and poorer. Tomorrow when I die I’ll leave Dorah with nothing and my little babies will have to suffer,” he said.
The costs of agriculture – long financed for white farmers by the Agricultural Credit Board – are high. This year the Matlous and other farmers in the areas are being aided by a contract from Lonhro to plant cotton. The company has paid most of the costs of the planting – except a R4 000 electricity connection fee they had to finance on their own – and will buy the crop at a set rate.
The Matlous also hope to plant five hectares each of sunflowers, maize and groundnuts, plus a few hectares of vegetables. This will costmore than R20 000, paid for by selling another 15 or 20 cattle. As high as the costs are, Josiah Matlou says, the risks of failure are higher.
That’s why he and other emerging farmers in the area, such as former KwaNdebele minister Guy Mtimunye, who ranches 200 cattle on his 2 300ha leased farm, say they are no longer in a rush to buy land.
“There must be time to allow people to prove they can get the potential out of the land first,” argues Mtimunye. He is concerned that, in the interest of settling as many claims as possible, the government will try to settle “4 000 to 5 000 families on five hectares of land each” in the prime agricultural area, rather than creating a separate residential zone.
Josiah Matlou’s concerns about land reform are more personal. His concern, after four years of battling to survive on the land, is that he can’t afford the bank loan he’ll need to buy the land, and farm it.
“If I get a R15 000 subsidy to buy land that costs R100 000, I must still borrow from the Land Bank at 19% interest. When the white farmers were here they got land at 8% interest,” he said. “No, give us three- to five-year leases so we can get some credit and see whether we can make it here first.”
Although the Rust de Winter farmers do not belong to the National African Farmer’s Union (Nafu) which has passed a vote of no- confidence in Minister of Agriculture and Land Affairs Derek Hanekom, many of their arguments are similar.
As emerging commercial farmers, they face a steeper climb than the white farmers who preceded them. Those farmers benefited from state subsidies, powerful cartelised co- operatives, and substantial credit services. Just as aspirant black commercial farmers are beginning to get land, they feel the system that supported their white counterparts is crumbling beneath their feet.
Nafu president James Mativandlela argues: “White farmers had the Land Bank, the Agricultural Credit Board and commercial banks to help them with everything from buying ground to capital to subsidising export and transportation costs. But the cherry on top was consolidation of debt, which kept many on the farm. Black farmers don’t have that.”
National Land Committee chair Brendan Pearce said this week there was a common concern among black farmers over the lack of support. “Even for small-scale farmers that R15 000 subsidy is a drop in the bucket. The ministry has to be more creative in looking at things like long- term leases, getting some of the land back from white farmers who are indebted to the state and considering land ceilings.”
Hanekom announced this week that the government had approved 380 land reform projects, and transferred more than 150 000ha to about 50 000 families since 1994.
But researcher Keneuoe Mosoang argues there is “no point seeing how many people can be settled on land without ensuring they can survive there and improve their lives”.
The Land and Agricultural Policy Centre, which advises government, says much of the trouble is the lack of co-ordination between land affairs and agricultural policy.
National Land Redistribution, Land Rights and Development chief director Lala Steyn agreed, but said: “In an ideal world you line up all the departments and sort everything out, but in the real world you don’t have the luxury.”