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Farming for the future — successfully negotiating tradition, hierarchy and ritual in Pondoland

A disastrous drought killed off the entire maize crop. Preparations are beginning for planting again later this year, early enough to catch the rains. (Photo: Supplied)

By Liz McGregor

30 Sep 2024

Monwabisi Patrick Rwexu’s analysis of the process he went through to get buy-in from tribal authorities to farm in western Pondoland is an object lesson for anyone trying to do business on communal land.

Anyone wanting to access land in communal areas governed by tribal authorities needs to have infinite patience. Ask Monwabisi Patrick Rwexu, who this year planted 750 hectares of maize in western Pondoland, eight years after he first approached the area’s headman.

And Pat, as he is known, had the advantage of growing up in the area, with isiXhosa his first language, and the clan name “Jola” confirming his family’s deep roots in the area.

“Public participation is key,” he said in a phone interview from his office in Mthatha. “Even if you have the government – national, local and provincial — backing you, and you leave the community behind, you are lost.

“It helps if they know you and know the home you come from. When the elders know your father was a businessperson who worked hard, it becomes easier for them to trust that you are not there to rob them.”

Alleviate hunger

It also helps that his motive goes beyond profit. He hopes to help alleviate hunger in one of the most deprived areas of the country – OR Tambo District Municipality — where two-thirds of the residents live below the poverty line.

Born in 1973, Pat grew up under apartheid. His father died before he was born and he and his mother were taken in by his uncle who, with Pat at his side, ploughed the fields of local smallholders for a small fee with his tractor, which he had bought second hand.

Co-founder and CEO of R&G Group of Consultants, one of the biggest construction and engineering companies in the Eastern Cape, Pat’s CV reveals a steady accumulation of knowledge and skills. Starting straight from school with bricklaying and plastering at a local TVET college, he went on to acquire certificates and university degrees in quantity surveying, project management, property valuation and mediation.

Pat Rwexu in the maize fields before the drought struck. (Photo: Supplied)

“I only did courses where I could work at the same time,” he says. “I had to put food on the table.”

His most recent qualification is a Master’s degree from UCT’s Nelson Mandela School of Public Policy and Practice. His thesis focused on poverty alleviation through the rejuvenation of agriculture in western Pondoland, where vast tracts of fertile land lie fallow.

The reasons for this are multifold: social grants mean easier access to food; children are now at school so can’t herd cattle away from crops; young people prefer urban life. And then there is the difficulty for outsiders to get access to communal land, which is owned by the state but controlled by tribal authorities.

Pat’s ultimate object is to grow and export cannabis, a crop that is not new to western Pondoland. In his thesis, he notes that “the area comprises valleys, mountains, rivers and forests that for many years have hidden the cannabis plant and on terrain that is not trafficable and not easy for police to arrive in cars without being noticed. I grew up in one of those villages and it is not an easy find.”

Growing cannabis

What Pat is contemplating now, however, is growing cannabis on a much larger scale for export, to be able to take advantage of the exchange rate. But there are numerous hurdles to be overcome, such as that legislation to regulate the cannabis trade is still in process and that risk-averse banks won’t lend money to ventures on communal land.

Banks want individual title deeds before they will loan money.

“So they charge you high interest rates and also want your title deeds as collateral.” Pat says dividing up communal land into individual title deeds would disadvantage poor people.

A total of 750 hectares of community land, ploughed, fertilised and ready for planting. (Photo: Supplied)

“In an unequal society like South Africa, this would simply result in communities becoming landless and homeless. The elite would invest in land and sell it on. Poverty stricken community members would sell for a pittance to make ends meet, and in turn would lose communal identity as their areas would be polarised by new landowners from other areas who would not necessarily live the same ethnic traditions and customs.”

Repossession of mortgaged property would be a constant threat.

Financial institutions should instead consider investing in rural land development as their contribution to helping to build a more inclusive and equal society.

“They could ensure there is proper management of projects on communal land by delegating people to be on boards and part of management.”

Getting buy-in

Pat’s analysis of the process he went through to get buy-in from tribal authorities as detailed in his thesis is an object lesson for anyone trying to do business on communal land.

Firstly, he says, you have to establish which traditional leader administers the land in the area you are interested in.

“We learnt this by asking a couple of community members in the language that they understand. In your team there should be at least one local member who is known by the community members or elders.”

It is important, he says, to approach the relevant traditional leader who will, at the appropriate pace, take you to another level. Leap-frogging to the senior traditional leader without having started with the headman or traditional leader is a mistake.

Pat Rwexu (standing extreme right) holding his first meeting in 2016 with community members in MaMpondomiseni. (Photo: Supplied)

“The hierarchy is that there is a headman, a traditional leader, and a senior traditional leader. Taking careful consideration of all of this in the first meeting and going to the meeting with empathy to understand why the fields were not being utilised, earns you credit. We also learnt that going to the meeting with a bit of food for elders is much appreciated.”

One must respect protocol and be prepared to take part in the rituals (ukukhahlela in Xhosa).

“Simple things like knowing your seat are important, and that while the meeting is in progress one should not pass behind the traditional chief. These are old customs that existed during the wars and are still alive today.

“You will be given the opportunity to state your case and tell your story. Introductions are very important before you start and are to be done by the local person you have identified, who must know your clan names.

“You will be expected to take questions. In your responses you must show absolute respect, empathy, and appreciation. You must not be the know-it-all kind of a person and over-promise.

A couple of guys came already for the same land and then disappeared. How are you different?

“You should appear relaxed and not in a hurry to be elsewhere. One of the frequently asked questions is ‘a couple of guys came already for the same land and then disappeared. How are you different?’

“Another would be on fencing of the land. We learnt that some members with cattle have children at schools outside the district so the cattle are not herded. They damage the crops and, more importantly, can cause unhappiness and dejection in the village.

“A crucial question is: ‘What would we gain from leasing the land?’ And ‘How long would the lease be for? What are you going to plough by when?’

“We had to answer them politely and in detail, including explaining why we needed a long lease of 10 years.”

These meetings will be followed by others with the smallholder farmers where you will be expected to repeat what was said in the earlier meetings.

“You should expect the meeting to take at least three hours. You must have an interpreter if you do not understand the language. Xhosa and Zulu are similar, but are not the same. When you go to deep rural areas, their rituals are not the same. For instance, in Xhosa, the elders would want you to perform a salutation ritual and say ‘khahlela mfondini’, while in Zulu ‘khahlela’ means kick.

Pat (foreground, taking the selfie) meeting with members of the Nyandeni Municipality, which contributed seed and fertiliser as part of a poverty alleviation initiative. (Photo: Supplied)

“We learnt that the traditional leader will at his own time go to the senior traditional leader to let him know of the planned project in his area. This happens during their regular fortnightly traditional council meetings, in the presence of other traditional leaders. We learned that the senior traditional leader then advises that each member of the community who wants to lease his smallholder farm must write a letter (confirming his agreement) and attach a copy of his ID.”

No photocopy machines

In such remote areas, there are no photocopy machines.

“When you are dealing with a lot of people – more than 100 in our case – it is better to bring your own mobile photocopier to make the process faster. This process has taken us three months for one village, while for others it took about five months.”

Compensation for the smallholders was suggested at 10% of the proceeds. Another 2.5% would be paid in royalties to the traditional leaders.

“Our reason for setting the offer at this level was that in the first three years we would be rehabilitating the fields, and that only after that would we start repaying the bank loan. With the consolidated fields it would not be easy to repay the loan in less than seven years. We would then as businessmen make our money after between seven and 10 years.”

In addition, two or three young people would be sent to university to study agriculture so that they could take over the management of the project. Villagers would be employed wherever possible, thus creating jobs.

Next came the election of a representative committee with whom Pat and his company would communicate as the project progressed. This was whittled down to 10 people.

A legal entity, called MaMpondomiseni Community Development Trust, was created after much debate about the name. Letterheads and a logo, which incorporated a cannabis leaf, maize and wheat, were agreed upon.

Lawyers drew up a lease agreement.

“A meeting was organised with the committee where all the terms of the agreement were read, interpreted and confirmed for consensus. The process was long, but it had to be done.”

A disastrous drought killed off the entire maize crop. Preparations are beginning for planting again later this year, early enough to catch the rains. (Photo: Supplied)

Three bank signatories were elected by the committee.

Finally, they were good to go. Although Pat had secured agreement for the use of 3,000 hectares, he decided to start with maize crops on just 750 hectares in the villages of Mampondomiseni and Mdumazulu.

In November 2023, the Department of Rural Development and Agriculture Reform, as part of its policy of poverty alleviation through agriculture, contracted two firms to plough the land and get it ready for planting. It was a challenge.

“The land was last planted by the Transkei Agriculture Corporation before 1994. When we started preparing the land last year, the heavy duty ripper plough kept on breaking. The soil is hard and dry. It had not been ploughed for many years and was an animal feed area, so heavy animals had been standing on it.

“We also partnered with the Nyandeni local municipality, and they provided fertiliser and seed.” Another partnership, with Humansdorp Co-Op, guaranteed a buyer for the harvest.

Drought

But heavy rains in December delayed the planting of maize until early February. It was too late. A drought then set in and the crops failed.

The villagers were disappointed. On the phone from Mthatha comes a sigh: “That was a tough one. We had to go back to the village and tell them: ‘Guys, we were not successful this calendar year.’ We had been paying community members R4,000 a month to keep the cattle from the crops. But in May, we stopped because we knew the crops had failed and the cows came back.

“Those were the lessons learnt. Even if nothing comes of the crop, you must have a communication strategy so that people are aware of your next steps.”

A detailed analysis by extension officers from the Department of Rural Development pinpointed the problems and suggested solutions.

“The contractors started ploughing too late. We have no irrigation so you have to rely on rain. If we had started ploughing in September, we would have caught the rain. So our contractors must start ploughing earlier this year.”

Despite the disappointment, he remains upbeat. To get to the seed bed required prolonged and intensive ploughing to break up the soil. But now it is done.

“The success we have achieved thus far is that we have already ploughed and put in fertiliser. This year, it will not take as long. So we are hoping it is going to work!” DM

Liz McGregor is author of Unforgiven: Face to Face with My Father’s Killer (Jonathan Ball Publishers).

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