Agriculture and livelihood politics: Alleged development by dispossession
A few months ago, a national debate emerged following a much-publicised video of Etondo lyaNehale supporting a vendor selling dog meat at Omuthiya. White-run animal organisations entered the debate, making empty threats. My decisive response sent them into their shells from where they haven’t returned. Some blacks started declaring to whites that they don’t eat dog meat. No one invited declarations. Others sent private messages saying that they consume dog meat, as did their ancestors. “We are behind you”, they wrote in private, as I wondered when they would get in front of or beside me.
This debate exposed a deep-seated inferiority complex in blacks, as Frantz Fanon theorised. White culture, logic and subjectivities, the debate demonstrated, are still highly ranked in our social hierarchy unfortunately supervised by black freedom fighters.
Properly defined, colonialism consists of three things: the occupation, control and domination of a sovereign space or territory by a foreign other. Independence only ended the occupation, leaving control and dominance intact. Whites still control and dominate our society and economy. Black leaders are their handbags.
From white handbags, we only see heads and fingers. 127 years since the erection of the 1896 red line and 33 years after blacks started wearing suits and ties for Cabinet and parliament, blacks are still prevented from bringing the very same meat they ate at 13:00 in Omuthiya for personal consumption in Tsumeb at 14:00. Indeed, whiteness controls our livelihoods.
Part of the reason why whiteness controls and dominates our livelihoods is because we tend to focus more on political power, electoral politics and the political behaviour of political actors than structural issues of our economy.
Agriculture, an important economic matter, is left to liberal agriculturalists as if natives are not innate agriculturalists. A recent social media post came to mind that read that the black government made English in school compulsory and agriculture optional.
We now have hungry graduates speaking good English.
In three instalments, I will lead a discourse on agriculture and livelihood politics to confront the tide of the black inferiority complex. Today we are discussing the alleged development occurring through continued dispossession. Next week, we will consider the native perspective on agriculture by confronting yield as a narrow neoliberal reading of natives’ agriculture and livelihoods. The last will conclude by exploring the options available to change the status quo.
Policy frameworks
The liberation movement had more soldiers than organic thinkers and planners. For this reason, the task of designing constitutional frameworks was left to foreigners. After inserting commas and full stops, soldiers uncritically adopted these foreign frameworks. Further policy frameworks were designed by consultants working for the United Nations Institute for Namibia in Zambia.
Indigenous perspectives on development were outside of these frameworks. Consequently, development became anything brought about by the government. African collectivism smoothed matters for leadership, which is seen as divine with benign motives. In Oshiwambo, for example, development is defined as “ehumo komeho” meaning “going or advancing forward”.
To question the alleged ‘development’ is to invite attacks from local councillors on Oshiwambo radio as those “taya yi ehumo komeho moshipala” – blocking development.
Towns in northern Namibia were established on the existing foundations of local communities. None was established on virgin land. Government only came to 'hotspots' in these communities by building offices. The private sector and foreign 'investors' added the rest once politicians successfully evicted natives from their land. These self-organised communities stood because of the traditional leadership to whom the land belonged. To the Africans, land could not be bought or sold.
It is held in trust by the traditional leadership on behalf of the people. Commercial entities and households on the land paid taxes to the traditional authority. This sustained and assisted the traditional authorities in supporting the needy.
Take Uupopo and Ondjondjo locations that were integrated into Ondangwa with more than 600 ‘uundingosho’ (cucashops). The traditional leadership collected close to N$50 000 in taxes annually. After integration, all this revenue was lost.
Worse, soldiers now in government started private negotiations directly with those 'renting' the land from the traditional leadership, offering them vacation or eviction fees. The traditional authority became the first victim, and dispossessed natives were the second victims of alleged development. Facing a government without the traditional leadership, the weaker natives are forced to accept whatever offer is made as a vacation or eviction fee. In implementing outsiders’ policy frameworks, brought from exile, soldiers in government ignored cultural, spiritual, and other land values. Nostalgically, locals return years later to see a drug-selling nightclub erected at their deceased parents’ favourite spot. Indeed, the Okandjengedi prostitution site in Oshakati, populated with used condoms, once belonged to a native told to make way for alleged development.
'Disenfranchisement by urbanisation'
Once in town, natives are to change their livelihoods. Included are new monthly taxes. At the proclamation stage, they are instructed to stop producing food in their fields. Lost is not only land but also culture, food and livelihoods. Whereas you owned chicken, you now buy them from Woermann or Shoprite. Laws prohibit you from owning animals (food) apart from dogs. Is urbanisation only possible through dispossessing black people of their land and livelihoods? Stellenbosch, a South African flagship town of apartheid and Afrikaner nationalism, has had vineyards and fields for more than 100 years.
There is no difference between vineyards and mahangu fields. As early as 1836, the Royal Bafokeng Kingdom avoided disenfranchisement by urbanisation. Under Kgosi Mokgatle, the Bafokeng king, the Bafokeng weren’t dispossessed of their land and livelihoods. Afrikaner leaders such as Paul Kruger and Hendrik Potgieter recognised and respected the Bafokeng.
The Rustenburg municipality respects the Bafokeng the same way they did in 1851, when the town was established. In fact, on 14 August 2014, the Rustenburg municipality and the Royal Bafokeng Nation signed a memorandum of understanding recognising each other. Namibians can only marvel. The Bafokeng are now the wealthiest native community in Africa, with a net worth of N$30 billion by 2016. Instead of planning massive land dispossession for alleged development, there is a lot Bukalo town, founded within the Masubiya kingdom, can learn from Royal Bafokeng and the town of Rustenburg.
Those in villages generally produce their own food, while those in town depend on retail shops that import food from outside Namibia. With tunnel vision, soldiers in government cannot see the risk. Imagine retail shops, or their foreign suppliers, conniving to close their doors for three days. Social unrest, if not insurrection, is guaranteed.
The continued takeover of rural agricultural land is a serious food security risk. As is the case with hungry graduates speaking good English, we will soon have many urban houses without food. As these gimmicks continue, agricultural land owned by whites is protected by the neoliberal constitution and other capitalist laws adopted by soldiers after returning from exile. We need to rethink development and address this tragic failure of imagination if we are to secure our children’s future. If we fail, the coming generations will be spitting and urinating on our graves as the authors of their oppression, subjugation, and dominance.
* Dr Job Shipululo Amupanda is the activist-in-chief of the Affirmative Repositioning Movement and former mayor of Windhoek. He holds a PhD in political studies from the University of Namibia, where he serves as a senior lecturer.
This debate exposed a deep-seated inferiority complex in blacks, as Frantz Fanon theorised. White culture, logic and subjectivities, the debate demonstrated, are still highly ranked in our social hierarchy unfortunately supervised by black freedom fighters.
Properly defined, colonialism consists of three things: the occupation, control and domination of a sovereign space or territory by a foreign other. Independence only ended the occupation, leaving control and dominance intact. Whites still control and dominate our society and economy. Black leaders are their handbags.
From white handbags, we only see heads and fingers. 127 years since the erection of the 1896 red line and 33 years after blacks started wearing suits and ties for Cabinet and parliament, blacks are still prevented from bringing the very same meat they ate at 13:00 in Omuthiya for personal consumption in Tsumeb at 14:00. Indeed, whiteness controls our livelihoods.
Part of the reason why whiteness controls and dominates our livelihoods is because we tend to focus more on political power, electoral politics and the political behaviour of political actors than structural issues of our economy.
Agriculture, an important economic matter, is left to liberal agriculturalists as if natives are not innate agriculturalists. A recent social media post came to mind that read that the black government made English in school compulsory and agriculture optional.
We now have hungry graduates speaking good English.
In three instalments, I will lead a discourse on agriculture and livelihood politics to confront the tide of the black inferiority complex. Today we are discussing the alleged development occurring through continued dispossession. Next week, we will consider the native perspective on agriculture by confronting yield as a narrow neoliberal reading of natives’ agriculture and livelihoods. The last will conclude by exploring the options available to change the status quo.
Policy frameworks
The liberation movement had more soldiers than organic thinkers and planners. For this reason, the task of designing constitutional frameworks was left to foreigners. After inserting commas and full stops, soldiers uncritically adopted these foreign frameworks. Further policy frameworks were designed by consultants working for the United Nations Institute for Namibia in Zambia.
Indigenous perspectives on development were outside of these frameworks. Consequently, development became anything brought about by the government. African collectivism smoothed matters for leadership, which is seen as divine with benign motives. In Oshiwambo, for example, development is defined as “ehumo komeho” meaning “going or advancing forward”.
To question the alleged ‘development’ is to invite attacks from local councillors on Oshiwambo radio as those “taya yi ehumo komeho moshipala” – blocking development.
Towns in northern Namibia were established on the existing foundations of local communities. None was established on virgin land. Government only came to 'hotspots' in these communities by building offices. The private sector and foreign 'investors' added the rest once politicians successfully evicted natives from their land. These self-organised communities stood because of the traditional leadership to whom the land belonged. To the Africans, land could not be bought or sold.
It is held in trust by the traditional leadership on behalf of the people. Commercial entities and households on the land paid taxes to the traditional authority. This sustained and assisted the traditional authorities in supporting the needy.
Take Uupopo and Ondjondjo locations that were integrated into Ondangwa with more than 600 ‘uundingosho’ (cucashops). The traditional leadership collected close to N$50 000 in taxes annually. After integration, all this revenue was lost.
Worse, soldiers now in government started private negotiations directly with those 'renting' the land from the traditional leadership, offering them vacation or eviction fees. The traditional authority became the first victim, and dispossessed natives were the second victims of alleged development. Facing a government without the traditional leadership, the weaker natives are forced to accept whatever offer is made as a vacation or eviction fee. In implementing outsiders’ policy frameworks, brought from exile, soldiers in government ignored cultural, spiritual, and other land values. Nostalgically, locals return years later to see a drug-selling nightclub erected at their deceased parents’ favourite spot. Indeed, the Okandjengedi prostitution site in Oshakati, populated with used condoms, once belonged to a native told to make way for alleged development.
'Disenfranchisement by urbanisation'
Once in town, natives are to change their livelihoods. Included are new monthly taxes. At the proclamation stage, they are instructed to stop producing food in their fields. Lost is not only land but also culture, food and livelihoods. Whereas you owned chicken, you now buy them from Woermann or Shoprite. Laws prohibit you from owning animals (food) apart from dogs. Is urbanisation only possible through dispossessing black people of their land and livelihoods? Stellenbosch, a South African flagship town of apartheid and Afrikaner nationalism, has had vineyards and fields for more than 100 years.
There is no difference between vineyards and mahangu fields. As early as 1836, the Royal Bafokeng Kingdom avoided disenfranchisement by urbanisation. Under Kgosi Mokgatle, the Bafokeng king, the Bafokeng weren’t dispossessed of their land and livelihoods. Afrikaner leaders such as Paul Kruger and Hendrik Potgieter recognised and respected the Bafokeng.
The Rustenburg municipality respects the Bafokeng the same way they did in 1851, when the town was established. In fact, on 14 August 2014, the Rustenburg municipality and the Royal Bafokeng Nation signed a memorandum of understanding recognising each other. Namibians can only marvel. The Bafokeng are now the wealthiest native community in Africa, with a net worth of N$30 billion by 2016. Instead of planning massive land dispossession for alleged development, there is a lot Bukalo town, founded within the Masubiya kingdom, can learn from Royal Bafokeng and the town of Rustenburg.
Those in villages generally produce their own food, while those in town depend on retail shops that import food from outside Namibia. With tunnel vision, soldiers in government cannot see the risk. Imagine retail shops, or their foreign suppliers, conniving to close their doors for three days. Social unrest, if not insurrection, is guaranteed.
The continued takeover of rural agricultural land is a serious food security risk. As is the case with hungry graduates speaking good English, we will soon have many urban houses without food. As these gimmicks continue, agricultural land owned by whites is protected by the neoliberal constitution and other capitalist laws adopted by soldiers after returning from exile. We need to rethink development and address this tragic failure of imagination if we are to secure our children’s future. If we fail, the coming generations will be spitting and urinating on our graves as the authors of their oppression, subjugation, and dominance.
* Dr Job Shipululo Amupanda is the activist-in-chief of the Affirmative Repositioning Movement and former mayor of Windhoek. He holds a PhD in political studies from the University of Namibia, where he serves as a senior lecturer.
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