This
may
be
around
the
nature
of
a
‘farm’
and
what
place
is
called
‘home’.
These
themes
are
explored
in
this
blog,
as
they
have
big
implications
for
how
young
people
are
reinventing
Zimbabwe’s
agricultural
landscape.
What
is
a
farm?
Ideas
of
land
ownership
no
longer
follow
the
old
pattern
of
having
a
single
farm,
with
a
homestead
plot.
Since
land
is
not
available,
then
more
hybrid
arrangements
have
to
be
adopted.
As
previous
blogs
have
discussed,
young
people
must
make
use
of
subdivided
plots,
lease,
borrow,
share,
even
purchase
parcels
of
land
through
various
levels
of
formalisation,
putting
together
land
portfolios
for
living
in
ways
that
their
parents
who
acquired
substantial,
single
plots
through
land
reform
could
not
imagine.
For
example,
it
may
be
that
a
young
person
may
get
a
stand
to
build
a
home
perhaps
on
a
parent’s
plot,
but
have
no
field,
or
only
a
small
piece
of
home
garden.
They
then
must
find
other
land,
using
land
by
rivers
or
streams
illegally,
or
finding
a
patch
to
rent.
A
complex
bricolage
is
thus
constructed,
reconfiguring
standard
patterns
of
ownership.
As
a
result,
the
idea
of
‘a
farm’
is
no
longer
the
ideal
envisioned
by
planners
and
extension
agents,
from
the
colonial
era
onwards.
The
idea
of land
registration
and
titling in
such
variegated
land
use
settings
in
A1
areas
is
simply
pie-in-the-sky.
During
land
reform
around
2000,
land
areas
were
planned
and
pegged
with
a
particular
notion of
a
‘viable’
farm in
mind.
Boundaries
were
vague
and
plots
were
not
well
demarcated.
However,
despite
all
the
revolutionary
rhetoric
of
the
time,
the
‘fast-track’
villagised
A1
settlements
bore
a
strong
resemblance
to
the
plans
instituted
under
the
much-detested Native
Land
Husbandry
Act.
Villages
were
often
pegged
in
‘lines’,
with
fields
and
grazing
areas
allocated
in
other
areas.
Since
this
formalisation
in
the
early
2000s,
land
use
is
much
changed,
and
with
this
the
idea
of
a
‘farm’.
Many
people
have
extended
home
fields
beyond
the
original
stands
so
that
labour
can
be
deployed
on
a
limited
area
(see
previous
blogs).
Meanwhile,
the
dryland
outfields
are
often
under-used
and
sometimes
allocated
for
homesteads
and
subdivided
for
fields
for
children
or
rented
out
to
others.
Grazing
areas
have
contracted
too,
as
more
people
have
been
offered
land,
often
illegally,
within
the
resettlement
areas.
As irrigation
has
become
an
increasing
feature
of
agriculture,
with
reduced
costs
of
equipment
and
as
an
adaptation
to
climate
change,
gaining
access
to
water
is
crucial.
For
this
reason,
farms
are
reconfigured
around
where
water
is
or
can
be
drilled
for,
with
irrigated
plots
near
boreholes
at
homesteads
or
by
rivers,
streams
and
small
dams.
Thus,
the
conventional
pattern
of
homestead,
main
make-controlled
outfield
and
a
small
garden
managed
by
women
has
been
refashioned
dramatically.
‘Farms’
are
now
a
variegated
patchwork
of
land
uses,
spread
across
an
area
and
responding
to
water
availability
and
are
very
far
from
the
standard
plans.
Young
people
–
both
men
and
women
–
must
be
responsive
to
this
and
develop
their
land-based
activities
within
these
new
settings,
often
moving
between
sites,
shifting
plots
and
adapting
to
opportunities
in
ways
unimaginable
before.
Where
is
home?
All
this
has
implications
for
what
is
understood
as
‘home’.
Immediately
following
the
land
invasions,
the
land
reform
areas
were
not
regarded
as
‘home’.
Many
maintained
their
original
homesteads
and
fields
in
the
communal
areas,
fearing
that
the
land
reform
would
be
temporary
and
that
they
would
be
evicted.
Homes
are
where
ancestors
come
from,
where
spirits
reside,
and
the
new
invaders
could
not
imagine
this
happening
on
what
was
a
‘white’
farm,
even
though
ancestral
claims
were
mobilised
during
the
invasions.
This
insecurity
has
long
disappeared
and
most
have
abandoned
the
strategy
of
straddling
across
sites,
and
most
regard
the
resettlements
as
‘home’,
where
people
are
buried,
spirits
reside
and
where
families
will
live
for
generations.
That
said,
connections
with
the
communal
areas
persist
and
some
have
‘homes’
in
these
areas
too,
even
if
used
only
by
a
caretaker.
Having
multiple
places
that
can
be
called
‘home’
presents
a
challenge
for
the
next
generation.
Can
they
gain
access
to
land
in
the
land
reform
areas
where
they
were
born,
or
should
they
seek
options
in
the
communal
areas,
where
their
parents
came
from?
The
‘traditional’
system
of
land
allocation
to
young
people
was
that
homes
were
established
upon
marriage
with
land
allocated
by
a
village
headman
in
the
area
where
a
young
man’s
parents
lived.
This
was
classically
a
patrilocal
system
of
residence,
where
wives
followed
husbands
on
marriage.
This
old-style
communal
area
system
of
land
allocation
was
the
expectation
of
many
in
the
resettlement
areas,
but
officially
there
were
no
more
plots
available
and
new
offer
letters
could
not
be
issued
without
the
intervention
of
the
land
officer
and
the
approval
of
the
District
Land
Committee.
Instead,
different
authorities
competed,
and
people
could
only
get
land
by
‘forum
shopping’
across
jurisdictions.
The
real
challenges
of
getting
land
and
establishing
homes
in
the
A1
areas
have
encouraged
many
young
people
to
seek
land
outside
the
strictures
of
the
resettlements
and
avoiding
being
behoven
to
parents
for
allocating
subdivisions,
which
many
feel
is
not
‘their’
land.
For
this
reason,
some
are
moving
back
to
communal
areas,
making
use
of
land
for
their
lineage
(perhaps
abandoned
by
their
parents
when
they
joined
the
land
invasions
in
the
early
2000s).
This,
some
comment,
offers
more
independence
and
security
than
trying
to
make
deals
in
the
A1
areas
where
many
rules
apply.
‘Stands’,
often
just
for
homesteads,
are
available
for
purchase
in
the
communal
areas,
even
if
illegal
(see
earlier
blog
on land
markets),
so
establishing
a
home
is
a
first
step
to
get
a
foothold
in
the
area;
thereafter
people
can
seek
land
through
leasing,
borrowing
or
further
purchase.
Some
continue
to
make
use
of
the
connections
in
both
places
and
continue
businesses
in
the
A1
areas
where
opportunities
are
greater.
‘Home’
therefore
may
not
be
where
they
grew
up
(in
the
A1
areas),
but
in
areas
where
parents
or
uncles
had
or
have
connections
(in
the
communal
areas),
or
in
combinations
of
the
two,
where
straddling
between
sites
allow
livelihoods
to
be
generated.
The
cases
below
illustrate
these
dynamics.
Case
1,
NM,
Wondedzo
Wares,
Masvingo
I
was
born
in
2004
and
grew
up
here.
My
grandparents
acquired
land
here
before
I
was
born.
I
completed
Form
4
in
2023
and
got
married
the
same
year.
My
husband
is
originally
from
Renco
but
has
been
working
as
a
labourer
for
various
people
here.
Last
year,
we
bought
a
‘stand’
(acre
in
size)
in
Chimedza
area
in
Serima
communal
areas
from
a
war
veteran
for
US$450
using
income
from
my
husband’s
wages.
We
are
still
in
the
process
of
building
our
homestead,
so
we
are
still
based
here
as
my
husband
works
for
Mrs
M
who
is
in
the
A1
area.
Case
2,
NM,
Vimbi,
Matobo
I
was
born
in
1999
and
grew
up
here.
I
did
Form
4
in
2016,
but
I
did
not
write
the
final
exams
as
I
got
pregnant.
After
falling
pregnant,
I
realised
that
the
man
was
married
with
a
family
elsewhere.
I
remarried
in
2023
again.
My
husband
and
I
then
decided
to
look
for
a
place
to
build
our
own
homestead.
Here,
you
can’t
build
a
homestead
wherever
you
want
as
the
rules
are
very
strict
here.
So,
my
uncle
who
has
a
homestead
in
Chapo
area
in
Kumalo
communal
areas
then
allocated
us
a
piece
of
land
behind
his
homestead.
We
only
have
a
homestead,
but
no
arable
fields.
It’s
very
hard
to
do
crop
farming
in
Chapo
as
there
are
too
many
baboons
that
raid
crops,
and
the
soils
are
very
infertile.
My
mother
has
since
given
us
1ha
to
do
farming
here
in
the
A1
farm.
We
currently
straddle
the
two
places,
as
I
have
also
set
up
a
tuckshop
here
at
the
A1
farm.
Others
try
their
luck
in
the
A1
areas,
cobbling
together
a
bricolage
of
land
parcels
linked
to
a
homestead.
Others
have
abandoned
traditions
of
patrilocal
land
allocation
with
husbands
following
wives
to
resettlement
areas
where
land
is
available,
with
men
living
together
with
their
wives’
families,
following
‘money’
(and
land)
rather
than
traditional
ways
of
using
it,
as
we
explore
further
in
the
next
blog.
A
new
rural
landscape
In
sum,
the
conventional
ways
of
thinking
about
land
and
its
use
are
being
up-ended
as
the
struggles
to
make
a
livelihood
by
the
next
generation
refashion
how
a
‘farm’
is
thought
about
and
what
‘home’
means.
Due
to
the
demands
of
combining
land
parcels
and
different
forms
of
production
across
time
and
space
with
off-farm
work
in
complex
combinations
and
sequences,
the
standard
patterns
that
existed
amongst
previous
generations
have
been
disrupted.
As
we
try
and
understand
what
land,
agriculture
and
farming
look
like
in
the
next
generation
of
land
reform,
old
assumptions
have
to
be
unravelled.
Today
it
is
much
more
complex
and
dynamic,
but
through
incredible
ingenuity
and
much
hard
work
(and
hardship)
today’s
young
people
are
creating
a
new
rural
landscape
25
years
after
land
reform.
This
is
the
fourth
blog
in
a
series
exploring
young
people
and
land
in
post-land
reform
Zimbabwe.
The
blog
has
been
written
by
Ian
Scoones
and
Tapiwa
Chatikobo,
with
inputs
from
Godfrey
Mahofa
(data
analysis),
Felix
Murimbarimba
(field
lead)
and
Jacob
Mahenehene
(field
assistant),
amongst
others.
This
blog
first
appeared
on Zimbabweland
Post
published
in:
Agriculture