CHAPTER 6 TIME, FUTURISM, LIVELIHOOD, CAPACITIES AND CAPABILITIES
6.2 Temporality and the politics of space at Tokwe Mukosi
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protracted struggle did not help to improve the Tokwe Mukosi people’s condition. In this transitional phase they were required to move into one hector plots. These infamous plots are popularly known as Kumahekita among the displacees.
In a series of precarious situations and temporality, the villagers have been given notice of the impending third relocation exercise. The dilemma however is that as usual the state is yet to secure the land for this relocation exercise. The District administrator for Mwenezi lamented this precarious situation and pleaded with the state to secure the land in order to bring finality to the struggle at hand (The Herald January 2019). A closer analysis however shows that this is just a smokescreen, aimed at obfuscating the capitalist undertones masked in this relocation program.
Given the fact that the Chingwizi area is situated at the confluence of two important rivers in Masvingo province, the area is very attractive for the establishment of a mega ethanol plant. The plant is believed to be under the auspices of Zimbabwe Bio Energy (ZBE), which is also owned by Billy Rautenbach. It is believed that ZBE dangled an irresistible US$400 million for investment in the said project (The Herald ibid). This is therefore putting the state in a huge dilemma. In recent times there has been a mantra for mega development deals to drive the economy in the new political dispensation, leaving the state in a compromising position. Given the connections and links that the Business mogul has in ZANU PF and the state, the chance that the Tokwe Mukosi people will stay permanently in this area becomes remote. The move to relocate the Tokwe Mukosi people again makes sense in quantitative development but in the end this will ultimately lead to development that eludes the people.
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the outsiders’ perspective may be on the growing of crops that lead to food security, crops like groundnuts and round nuts had social, symbolic and economic value, particularly for Chingwizi women. Such crops come with status for women and they defined Africanness. Given the limited space coupled with the severe drought a significant number of households had to sacrifice these crops in favor of maize, for food security. Lamenting this situation, Mai Nemauzhe (47) had this to say,
Zvakatiomera Mwanangu kuno kuChingwizi, tiri kumatongo taiziva kuti mukadzi chaiye anofanira kuva netseu yake yenzungu kananyimo. Nzungu kunyanya dzaitikoshera padovi remumba kana kuchivirika chaiko kuti tiwane zvimari, zvino zvekuno izvi hamenowo. Tava kungoti ndozviripo regai tingozvigashira.
(Life is tough here in Chingwizi, in our place of origins (matongo) it was common practice that every wife should have her own plot of groundnuts or round nuts. Groundnuts in particular were essential for peanut butter or even trading for survival. In this situation we are lost; we just have to accept the situation).
Also pointing to the abovementioned gendered implications of the politics of space and the resultant vulnerability a male household head had this to say,
“Chirongwa chemahecta chakatibvisa hubaba hwose nekuti patsika dzedu tinoti murume chaiye anofanira kuve nedura (pointing to the space), zvino chero tikati hedu ivhu racho rakasimba ungavakira dura ipapa here? Tinonzi ipapa ndipo pekurima, pekuvakira nekuchengeta zvipfuyo”.
(The one hectare plot is surely a threat to my masculinity. In our culture a real man should have a granary that is always full, (pointing to the small space) I cannot construct a granary for this space. They told us that we should do all our activities here like constructing temporary accommodation, growing crops and keeping livestock).
The villagers’ vulnerability and despair in the new plots has been aggravated by the relocation arrangement in place prior to their movement to Chingwizi. What is at stake is that before
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relocating the villagers, the state targeted household heads for relocation and compensation. The problem is that it is now six years after the relocation, implying that a significant number of children who were below the age of 18 are getting married and ready to start their own families.
The need to accommodate these new families has added to the politics of space in the new settlements. Responding to this serious challenge, Mai vaPrivy (55) said,
“Patakadzingwa nemvura kwaChivi ndakauya nevana vangu vashanu, vakomana vatatu vasikana vaviri, dambudziko zvino rave rekuti vakomana vose varoora, vava nemhuri dzavo saka handina pekuvaisa. Ndakatongovaratidzawo pekuvaka zvitumba zvavo muhecta iyoyi, ndingaite sei.”
(When we were evacuated from Chivi to this area, I came with my five children, three boys and two girls. The problem now is that all the boys have since got married and have their own families. I do not have extra space to accommodate them. I simply subdivided the one hectare for them to construct their own temporary houses).
Mai VaPrivy further pointed out that the arrangement that she made for the three families is working in the interim. In future she is however anticipating serious conflicts and contestations over the little resources that they have. She went on to say,
‘Kumberi kunoenda uku ndiri kuona dambudziko. Zvinonetsa chose kuti vana vemunhu vagare pachivanze chimwe vanototi vanetsane. Ukuwo kudivi revakadzi ihoho chaiyo, vamwene nevaroora zvinonetsa kugarisana. Hurumende inofanira kupaongorora ipapa yogadzirisa nekukurumidza’
(In the long run I foresee problems with this arrangement. It’s always a challenge to have three married sons who are sharing the same yard, conflict is inevitable. In another direction I have daughters in law who are always fighting. The state should quickly find a solution to this problem.
The politics of space and competition emanating from emerging families is not peculiar to Mai Privy’s case. Many other families lamented this new problem at Chingwizi. Thus, this and other
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problems at Chingwizi are simply a manifestation of the failure by the architects of development to take a people oriented approach to development. It is always necessary to take a people centered view that would help to solve such micro politics and family dynamics for the sustainability of any developmental project.
Temporality and the zest to reach the distant future are also omnipresent in the structures constructed for accommodation in the new one hectare plots. The state is insisting on the construction of temporary plots based on the realization that this is just a stop gap measure toward their permanent settlements in the third and penultimate relocation phase. Thus many families constructed pool and dagga huts for accommodation. There are also many risks and insecurities that are associated with these temporary structures. Firstly, the fact that the Chingwizi area was a wildlife ranch means there are threats from wild animals and snakes for many residents. Secondly the soil type and water in Chingwizi are not suitable for construction purposes. Some villagers reported that during the rainy season the dagga can easily be washed away leading to the collapse of many structures.
Figure 2: Typical housing structures at Chingwizi
122 Source: Author’s creation (2018).
Based on the aforementioned politics of space and housing provision at Chingwizi, I observed that a significant number of families are now erecting permanent houses which are futuristic in nature. Responding to the question on why the residents are now defying the state’s directive, VaSwela (68) who constructed a four roomed house, which interestingly had a satellite dish installed on it had this to say,
“Chokwadi chiripo ndechekuti tatove nemakore six tirimuno tichingovaka dzimba dzamapango gore roga roga nokuti dzinowa kana kukanaya mvura yakawanda, zvino nezera rangu iri handingazvikwanisi kana kuri kunzonziwo tichabviswa zvekare totangira ipapo. Hurumende inotofanira kundibhadhara imba yangu yandakavaka iyi”
(The truth is that it has been six years since we have been moved to this place and I am expected to build a hut almost every year because if we receive a lot of rains the huts collapse. Given my advanced age, I can’t do that. In the unlikely event that the state moves us out of this area, we will see how it goes, in fact the state has to compensate me for the house that I have constructed).
While I will focus on the compensation paradox later, it should be noted that the compensation problem feeds very well into the emergent political economy at Chingwizi. During the time of research some villagers that had received compensation faced a serious dilemma in investment decisions owing to a plethora of social and economic misfortunes. Housing among the native Chivi villagers is one of the priority areas for investment. The temporality of the second resettlement phase means this investment area is highly compromised. The limited space in the one hectare plots further compounded the risk of investment in that portfolio. In line with the politics of space at Chingwizi, investment in the much needed subsistence farming was impossible for a number of displacees.
My stay and interaction with the Tokwe Mukosi residents revealed that livestock particularly cattle had both symbolic and economic value. Together with subsistence farming, they formed
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the backbone of the rural economy in both pre-and post-displacement communities. During the flooding and evacuation of the Tokwe Mukosi people, a lot of livestock was either marooned or lost in the process. Many villagers therefore anticipated to rebuild their heads after receiving the contentious compensation package. The problem was that the allocated land in the new one hectare plots could only curter for temporary accommodation, painting a huge dent on the investment in livestock. As such many respondents complained about lack of investment potential in the new environs compared to the Chivi area. . VaMapira (50) lamented the obtaining situation,
“Zvakaitika izvi hazvitifadzi zvamuchose. Kwachivi taive nemombe zhinji chose. Ini ndakarasikirwa nedzakawanda pamafashamu, shomane dzakasara dzave nedambudziko remafuro muno munzvimbo. Kutaura kuno ndakapiwa half yemari yangu asi handigone kutenga dzimwe mombe, Kuvaka imba kwayo kana kuita chimwe chinhu chiri nani. Inotongori mari isingaiitike musoro nayo. Umwe moyo unotongoti ndiidye yese nekuti irikuramba ichidonha”
(We are not happy at all with the prevailing situation. In Chivi we had a lot of cattle. I then lost a lot of cattle as a result of floods and a few that I manage to salvage are at risks because there are no pastures. I have been paid half of my compensation but I can’t buy cattle anymore, I can’t construct proper accommodation or do anything, it’s useless money and I am tempted to squander it because it is losing value each day).
Given the dire situation at Chingwizi the state had to decree that Billy Rautenbach, Triangle estate, the Shangani people and the new Tokwe Mukosi villagers share the available resource in the interim. But conflict and contestations over space continue to manifest between the triad, despite the state’s intervention. In such a scenario it becomes polemical because we have three actors with contradicting and conflicting interest. Consequently the Tokwe Mukosi villagers are enduring bemusement by what they consider hostile neighbors when it comes to pastures and sources of water. Billy Rautenbach in particular only makes the resources available when there is political pressure from the central government. To underline the unpalatable relations with the Chingwizi villagers, he went on to fence off his farm and water reservoirs towards the end of
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2018. The Chingwizi villagers were then left vulnerable since they did not have many alternatives.
The nearby Triangle estate just like Billy Rotenberg’s resources is always embroiled in serious conflict of space with the Tokwe Mukosi villagers. Owing to the ever shrinking grazing space, livestock often stray into the Triangle sugar cane plantations. The estate’s security system is responding to this problem in a heavy-handed way. The animals are often locked up without food for some days until the owner pays a heavy fine ranging between USD50 and USD100. This amount is beyond the capacity of many villagers whose displacement dislocated them from the mainstream economy. Many villagers lost livestock as a result of this strict policing regime.
Despite many attempts by the local leadership and government officials to mediate, the estate remains adamant in its approach to the problem at hand. The obtaining situation has therefore led to the overburdening of the already vulnerable Tokwe Mukosi villagers.
The conflict between the Triangle estate and the new occupants is also extending to the available water sources for irrigation. Some resourceful Tokwe Mukosi people, particularly women have nefariously set up small vegetable gardens along a major canal that borders the Triangle estate and the Tokwe Mukosi people. In the process they are diverting water from the canal to irrigate the small gardens. It was reported that the Triangle security personal in many cases would burn down the small gardens which are seen as a serious threat to the estate’s operations. Towards the end of the fieldwork, it appeared as if the estate had given up on the Tokwe Mukosi people and their shenanigans. In an informal interview with one of the Triangle security personal, he retorted,
” Vanhu ava vakaoma musoro, isu tatonetawo navo, dambudziko riripo ivo vanongofunga kuti vanekodzero pazvinhu zvose, zvinotongoratidza kuti hurumende inechikwereti navo saka zvose izvi ingori nyaya yokuedza kudzorerwa chikwereti chavo. Chero mukaisa nyaya yacho kumapurisa mapurisa haana chaanokwanisawo kuita.”
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(These people are big head, we are now tired of the situation, the problem is that they always think that they have the right to everything, it is very clear that they think the state owes them something, so all these actions are aimed at ensuring that the state pays back. Even if you take the matter to the police they cannot do anything about it).
Responding to this survival strategy and the conflict thereof, a woman who identified herself as Amai Mhurai (32) said,
“Dambudziko ratinaro remurivo muno muChingwizi iguru uye rakangonangana nemudzimai.
Takazvitarisa muno muChingwizi mugwenga, zvasiyana nekwaChivi kwataidiridza magadheni mumatsime kana munaTugwu (Tokwe River). Takamboedza kuita gadheni dzacho pachibhorani zvikashaya basa, mvura yacho inemunyu saka haiite. Zvadaro takatoona kuti semadzimai ngatitange reduwo Jambanja remagadheni tikasadaro muriwo tingauwanepi.”
(The problem of getting vegetables here at Chingwizi is serious and it’s a problem that every woman faces. If we look at it closely, the situation is different from Chivi where we would set up gardens around wells or along the Tokwe river. We tried the same idea using borehole water here but the problem is that the water is salty so it’s not good for that purpose. Given the situation as women we decided to start our own Jambanja (revolution) for gardens, if we do not do that then we won’t get the vegetables).
The acronym Jambanja in the context of the small gardens along the canal fits in very well within the broader FTLRP in Zimbabwe that I alluded to in Chapter Three. The two events are couched within the philosophy of force in a haphazard manner to achieve some semblance of equality and social justice in the redistribution of natural resources in this political economy (se Masunungure 2008). Of note is the fact that this Jambanja is unintentionally generating internal conflict among the Tokwe Mukosi people. This type of conflict is directly linked to the traditional gender roles in society. Some men at Chingwizi are greatly opposed to the idea of small gardens. In their view the gardens are ‘eating’ into the little space available for grazing, thereby putting livestock at greater risk. In a FGD conducted at the nearby Bongo business center a male respondent who was responding to this contentious issue said,
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Takazvitarisa chakakosha chii muriwo nemombe? Dai ndiri sabhuku ndaiiti ngazvibviswe zvimaghadeni izvozvo nokuti tatambura nehufuro muno. Chishuviro changu ndechekuti dai estate yaramba ichipisa maghadheni iwayo.”
(What is more important, vegetables or cattle? If I was the village head, I would immediately direct the removal of those gardens because we have limited pastures here. My wish is that the estate continues to burn down those gardens).
Notwithstanding the espoused contestations and conflicting lifeworlds in the small gardens puzzle, there was a spirited zest to transform these gardens into a mushandirapamwe (community garden). This is not a novel strategy because the strategy dates back to the pre-displacement Chivi community. It emerged that such a collective strategy had a bifurcated goal, which is to ensure household food security and income generation for the households in question (Taru 2013).
The relations between the indigenous Shangani people and the Tokwe Mukosi villagers are also adding to the serious contestations over grazing space at Chingwizi. Historically the Shangani people have been coexisting with Billy Rautenbach, albeit at the periphery of the former’s land.
The coming in of the Tokwe Mukosi villagers obviously unsettled the Shangani villagers who also believe that they are the dejure owners of the land occupied by the displacees. In response to what they perceive to be unfair land invasion by the defacto aliens, they are employing a number of strategies to frustrate the Tokwe Mukosi people. The main strategy is to drive cattle belonging to the Tokwe Mukosi people from their pastures into the triangle estate. This strategy is actually fueling the tension between the estate authorities and the Tokwe Mukosi villagers.
In this study, I observed that the only space that is free from conflict for the villagers is the area along the railway line. This railway line is used to transport raw sugarcane from other fields to the refinery at Triangle and it passes through the Chingwizi area. While this has provided relief to the villagers in terms of grazing, the area’s carrying capacity is severely limited. Over and above this, there is a great risk of losing livestock to the train. VaMapara further complained and
127 said,
“Kamafuro kasara ndipo apo panjanji. Dambudziko nderekuti mombe dzapera nezvitima Panopfuura chitima chenzimbe chinodonhedza nzimbe mombe dzoterera dzichidja saka panotevera chimwe dzotsikwa. Dambudziko iri rakanyanya muchirimo apo patinenge tisingafudzi mombe. Iro gore rino ndakatsikirwa mombe nhatu nechitima.”
(The only space we have for grazing is along the railway line. The space is however risky because of the train. In many cases the goods train passes and drops sugarcane which then attracts our cattle putting them at risk of being run over by the goods train. This problem is highly pronounced in the winter, this year alone I lost three cattle to the goods train).
The territoriality which is graphic in the relations between the Tokwe Mukosi and the Shangani people over natural capital is ubiquitously affecting other facets of social life between the two actors. This is apparent in courtship, marriage and sexual relations. Sexual boundaries dividing the two communities are clearly defined albeit with relations of superiority and inferiority.
Whereas dating or marrying a Shangani woman was regarded as normal, it was taboo for a Tokwe Mukosi woman to date a Shangani man. The protectionist gesture was omnipresent in the case where a Shangani man was beaten up by a group of Tokwe Mukosi men at Nyuni shopping center for allegedly dating a popular Tokwe Mukosi woman, identified as muchina. The case was reported to the police but nothing was done to the accomplices. The irony is that for the Tokwe Mukosi men, dating a Shangani woman was highly cherished and vindicated given the myths surround the initiation rites among the Shangani women. This is in tandem with the Chinamwali Shangani culture which among other things socializes the Shangani women to be good in marriages including pleasing a man in bed (Gukurume and Nhodo forth coming).