After Sydney Press’s death, regular cash injections were received from the original Press Trust, but with no real unified leadership at Coromandel Estate overseeing the day-to-day operations of the mammoth enterprise, the farm began to slip into debt and disrepair.
Eventually, the trust directors took the decision to place the historic farm on public auction. However, it was such an extensive piece of land consisting of so many viable facets, that the relevant parties attempted to break up the property into as many as six separate “parcels” to auction off independently.
In the meantime, the resident Coromandel Estate labourers and supervisors, most of whom had lived and worked on the farms their entire lives, saw an opportunity and took it upon themselves to mobilise.
They approached the then Land Affairs Department with a view to buying the farm and following the advice of government, the Coromandel Farmworkers Trust was born. Lawyer Mpho Maepa was appointed by the provincial government as the official legal representative of the newly formed trust and spoke on behalf of all the beneficiaries during the transaction.
With financial aid of the Mpumalanga provincial land affairs department, which provided R11-million (half the total funds required to purchase the entire 5 800 hectares) and the Land Bank, which supplied the other R11-million, the trust finalised the transaction in 2002, with moveable assets worth R900 000 and livestock worth R1-million included in the purchase. It was a landmark moment for land reform in South Africa.
The Press family appeared to support the move and, with few willing buyers for the property, the transaction seemed to suit all parties involved. The official handover was a memorable ceremony for the 248 beneficiaries, who attended along with former MECs and ministers. However, following the joyous occasion, the trustees were soon faced with seemingly insurmountable difficulties.
The farm had not been profitable for some time since the death of Sydney Press in 1997, to the point that when the new trust took over in 2001, the property had lost enormous momentum as a viable commercial agricultural enterprise. The beneficiaries elected their first board of seven representatives, drawn from the daughters and sons of some of the original labourers, as well as men and women who had worked for the Press family since Coromandel’s inception.
Although the employees had largely manual labour experience, most of the board members had administrative experience from working in the farm’s offices and, because all the original staff were part of the group of beneficiaries, there was an existing pool of viable agricultural skills.
Many simply continued with their previous roles on Coromandel as before, but it soon became necessary to scale down certain aspects of the farm.
At the beginning, there were isolated incidents of petty vandalism and misuse of equipment, but once the community began to realise that the property and its expensive equipment were now part of their collective property, this soon ended — “borrowing” tractors and using farm diesel for private transport were not acceptable, and beneficiaries began taking incidents like this very seriously. It was a necessary yet difficult mindset shift from farm labourer, to farm owner.
The board came to learn that vandalism was a serious concern for other emerging farmers at the time, and counted their blessings that it was only a fleeting problem at Coromandel Estate. Hence a sense of discipline was instilled from the beginning, along with open lines of communication – with 248 beneficiaries, it was integral to the success of the farm that everyone be in agreement, and to this day the owners attribute this sense of cooperation to the late Sydney Press, who had encouraged a family-oriented culture with his employees.
Fixing it up
Many of the moveable assets were in need of repair, while others required complete replacement, so two additional tractors had to be purchased up front. A silage cutter for the cattle feed also had to be purchased at a cost of R3-million but, despite these necessary purchases, the trust managed to make its first loan repayment of R1,2-million to the Land Bank the following year (2003).
The trust continued to pay the Land Bank R50 000 a month thereafter, but it soon became apparent that this burden was placing too great a strain on the recuperating farm. With no operating capital to begin with, the general maintenance of the dairy, irrigated lands, diesel costs, veterinary bills, staff villages, workshops, maintenance of 25 management homes and Manor House, the orchards and the game sections became far too much to maintain for a group of people with no private wealth to speak of. Admittedly, the board claimed they wanted to restore the farm to its former glory, and this ambitious attempt placed a great deal of strain on the business.
Current chairwoman of the board Albertina Thabethe (whose father, the late Abel Manzini, was a senior member of Sydney Press’ staff after whom the staff village was named), recalls this time as one of abundance and prosperity thanks to the foresight and generosity of the Press family. But she and the board members came to realise that the lifestyle previously enjoyed by Coromandel employees had potentially set the new Farmworkers Trust up for failure. The village had also expanded over the years as the population grew and it was no longer only the beneficiaries and their families residing on the premises.
Press had left a legacy of philanthropy and generosity when it came to his staff, so it was difficult for most to come to terms with the loss of many of the services that had always been offered to them. The delivery of firewood for example, became a great point of contention and, while the board had attempted to continue providing this service to the people, the cost of diesel and wood for hundreds of families soon outweighed the effort. The service was outsourced and the beneficiaries made to contribute to the delivery costs, leaving the farm out of the transaction.
The beneficiaries were understandably unsettled and there was a point where even senior members of the department of agriculture, rural development and land administration (DARDLA) became involved in the process, meticulously explaining to trustees why they could no longer expect certain services to be provided by the farm. What’s more, despite the trying circumstances, small dividends had been paid over the years, but these were never any substantial amounts, varying between R100 and R200, which further added to the beneficiaries’ misgivings.
The board wanted to adopt good business practice, but also needed to operate the trust like a family with a liberal, democratic approach, which proved a difficult balance to maintain.
By 2003, it was quite apparent that free healthcare, quality education and comfortable winters had no one left to fund them. With lengthy meetings and painstaking efforts to ensure communal understanding, the beneficiaries did eventually come to terms with Coromandel’s new circumstances.
In a move toward reconciliation, the trustees adopted quite the opposite approach and put their questioning to good use, becoming genuinely concerned with every aspect of the property. If a cow died in the night, the board, had to answer for it. Every last cent was to be accounted for. This was a positive move for the beneficiaries to make, but it was also time-consuming to ensure each and every member of the trust fully comprehended the minutiae of daily farm affairs.
Meanwhile, the Land Bank loan was beginning to fall into backlog and by 2004, the farm could no longer make its repayments. The trust approached the Mpumalanga provincial government to intervene and act as a mediator with the Land Bank, which falls under the auspices of the department of Agriculture, rural development and land administration. The trustees were becoming increasingly aware that they needed more help than they had initially thought. Plans were made with the help of DARDLA to gain greater understanding of the farms’ financial shortcomings and to create a sound business plan with a long-term view to profitability and longevity.
The board and the trustees began to enjoy a period of positive growth with the support of the department, which sent agricultural economists, arranged for specific training and helped the board problem-solve more regularly. However, the Land Bank remained unsatisfied and by 2006 began to indicate its intention to reclaim the land from the struggling trustees. Once more, government had to intervene and placate the organisation, convincing it that the Coromandel Estate initiative had unique circumstances which required unique treatment — the sheer scale of the enterprise necessitated some leeway with the repayment structure.
However, this didn’t mean the end to cost-cutting elsewhere. From the height of the farm’s success under Sydney Press’s 300-odd employees, the permanent work force had fluctuated between 90 and as low as 50, with the usual contingent of seasonal casual labour being employed during harvest time. Unnecessary cellular phone contracts were done away with and the board even resorted to fundraising on the odd occasion.
Special help
DARDLA brought in yet more specialists to assess the farm. In addition to overseeing the daily operations of the dairy and the orchards, the board members did their best to keep all the beneficiaries happy. However, they had to continue to make difficult and often creative decisions if they wanted to save the business from imminent failure.
When the trust had acquired the property in 2002, the managers residing in the 25 cottages had moved on to work elsewhere and certain supervisors had been promoted to management positions, living in the properties scattered across the entire farm as part of their remuneration package.
In a move to secure further income, the board took the decision to relocate the mangers to the residential village. This land had since been taken over by the local Thaba Chweu municipality to further alleviate some of the financial burden on the farm, and now contained additional RDP units to house the growing village. The village and its housing needs had simply put too much strain on the farm. With the managers successfully relocated, the board was eager to capitalise on the potential for cash revenue through the beautiful and historic buildings.
The management houses were renovated, and soon became available for temporary occupation by the numerous tourists to the region. At the time, the farm could still boast having fully stocked trout dams, horse riding excursions, hikes to the impressive waterfalls and game viewing. Occupying the houses was not difficult, but the trout and horses were expensive to maintain. Today, the stables stand empty and only naturally occurring trout still remain in the dams.
Since housing was and still is a rare commodity in the area, and with the increasing human capital required for Lydenburg’s nearby mining industry, the board later opted to sign longer term leases targeting this industry specifically. This proved a better short-term solution to securing monthly rental-based income. Despite the constant juggling of ideas on cost cutting and income generation, the board members claimed the farm had become so financially trapped at one point that they had to convince all the stakeholders to become more creative with the use of the land.
The Land Bank loan was a constant strain, coupled with the threat of a land claim that loomed over the trustees, but what was of more immediate concern was the growing list of creditors — in this instance, DARDLA had no authority to intervene and mediate on Coromandel’s behalf. The harsh reality was that bills had to be paid and creditors had to be given preference. By 2010, the relocation of the managers to the village on the outskirts of the property had provided a much-needed R70 000 monthly cash income which certainly helped.
Other creative reworkings of the farm’s structure, such as securing lease agreements with a prolific potato growing enterprise, headed by Jakkie Mellet, meant that by 2010 the board members felt Coromandel Estate was finally finding its feet. They felt a renewed sense of energy and desire to keep the land they felt so emotionally connected to — after all, this had been their only home. Still, mounting pressure was coming from every corner, and board members felt like they constantly had to prove their efficacy to the neighbouring farmers, the provincial government, the Land Bank and themselves.
This article originally appeared in the Mail & Guardian newspaper as an advertorial supplement