Following the reported land grabbings in Zimbabwe by the ruling Zanu PF party, South Africa has its own version of land appropriation in the name of ancestral rights. In truth, the majority of the land grabs in the north of the country are attributed to migrants from other regions in Africa, like Mozambique. These are not formal land appropriations with proper settlers, but rather informal settlements with migrants who have illegally crossed into South Africa. In vast numbers, violent groups overrun farms by force with labourers and owners being chased off the land. If there is resistance, they are either shot or hacked to death with a panga also when not resisting. As a consequence, all production on the farm halts and is left to ruin with machinery rusting, sold off, broken down for spares or rewired and reimagined in creative ways. The knowledge of managing a farm is simply not there and the attempt at growing vast fields of crops as if allotments is fruitless. In the south, land appropriation is a little more subtle by ‘moving in’ and setting up small settlements that quickly expand to consume the property.

As in some countries, border security tactics are often heavy-handed with migrants being ill-treated, seriously injured or even murdered, purely for chasing the dream of a better life. To hold border control or the police accountable, is not the solution as they enforce the law. One can’t expect the law to be interpreted in each case and what others fail to understand is that the law in an enforcers eyes is black and white, there is no grey. If there is any blame to be made, it’s with the lawmakers and how this is communicated to those who are to enforce it i.e. discretion is not enforcement. Being a migrant at the end of your tether, with hope being the only thing you can cling on to; pushing through thick dense bush and sleeping out in the open in the wild, crossing deep strong flowing rivers populated by crocodiles, only to then dodge the jaws and claws of nocturnal feeders of the Kruger National Park and ultimately making it through all of that, only to then discover that the grass is not that greener on the other side. This can break a person and make them resort to desperate measures. Dreams are stronger than the reality that faces them and the promised land or more apt, the promise of land unfortunately drives these migrants to their fate often putting young children at risk. You have to question, what parent knowingly puts their children at risk when death is more likely than survival. Understandably, locals are not appreciative or accommodating of these migrants and as such there are major conflicts. In addition, longstanding tribal conflicts run deep which further exacerbate the situation.

Four security companies patrol the region between Bushbuckridge in the north, White River in the south, Sabie in the west and up to the Kruger National Park border in the east. Because their operations are so remote, they are a law unto themselves, only occasionally collaborating with the authorities when it appears that things might get out of their control. To give you a sense of perspective, piling someone into the back of the van and then driving them to a crocodile farm to feed them to the crocodiles is not ‘considered out of control’, This of course is an unconfirmed rumour but really not a stretch based on other stories that are confirmed as true. Methods used differ between the companies with only one operating completely above board and somewhat to the letter of the law. Two operate according to a version that suits their requirements and the fourth is much clearer in its purpose but creative in its tactics by combining the faiths of Christianity and African Spirits with the white man’s law weaved through. Owned and run by a tall charismatic Afrikaans church minister of the NG Kerk, partnered with African spiritual leaders, protection is offered in the form of a spell as opposed to a physical security guard. So no security guards, no authorities, free from bureaucracy with little overhead and no wasted time in court. It is a system that relies on a network of informants, adopting ‘persuasive’ interview tactics and effecting punishment that makes one wish they were dead.

Upon contacting the minister, an appointment is made to visit the property. A ‘sangoma’ then makes their rounds, casting a spell in each room waving the familiar African cow hair fly swat. At the property entrance, a prominent round sticker of a growling leopard is then placed where all can see, indicating that the property is now protected by spirits. Despite a number of Africans adopting christian faiths like Zionism, this runs in parallel to the the ghosts and demons of African spirits which the majority acknowledge even to this day. A sangoma (witch doctor) has a huge influence in the community, often outweighing those of any Christian god and a property protected under a sangoma is enough to deter even the hardiest criminals. As much as I find the whole thing hard to believe and might sound like a load of weird voodoo to any person, it works. But not is all that it seems. There is a huge underground network of informants that are paid off and when there is a break-in, informants climb out of every hole. The perpetrator is quickly caught, ‘interviewed’ and ultimately let go but not without consequence. It is alleged that suspects are either fed vile concoctions or ‘muti’ making them feel as if they want to die or brutally beaten – again, unconfirmed rumours. It is mostly black business that subscribe to this way of protecting their business with a growing trend amongst white business. Particularly businesses that may be operating under the radar and don’t want the police sniffing around. Ironically, if a case ever makes it to court, this system also protects the accused into order that the case is thrown out of court thereby avoiding any details being exposed.

In contrast to these ‘spiritual property guardians’, the top security company is well organised in operations and manpower and mostly operate within the law. They are armed with 4×4 vehicles, motorbikes, horses, automatic weapons and some of the best security personnel one can recruit. And by best, I mean by global standards. Consisting mostly of decommissioned or retired personnel from the SADF (South Africa Defence Force), a unit called Koevoet, who operated in South-West Africa during the Namibian Independence War. Paramilitary-trained, they were considered to be one of the most effective forces against SWAPO (South West Africa People’s Organisation), a communist backed guerrilla force during the apartheid years; their reputation somewhat tarnished by accusations of brutality against civilians. These personnel eat, sleep and live in the open over a few days/weeks and patrol miles of farmland, roaming by night and sleeping by day.

The company second from top is equal in its mission to the top, but bends the law slightly to meet its own needs and does not have the intelligence nor the armoury of the former. Travelling in camouflage Landrovers, they look more like tour guides than a security company. The third company barely makes an effort. They have one vehicle with five or six men off the street piled into the back with Beth vehicle weighed down almost rubbing against the wheels. These guards are trained and driven around by a short round little man that waddles when he walks and has to squeeze in and out of the driver seat. The vehicle visibly balances out with the front bearing down when he climbs into the driver seat. Upon exit, there is literally a steering wheel impression on his belly for a time and his men would chuckle when seeing their boss trying to move quickly. I guess you had to be there – this large man in his cab and the boys bobbing around in the back rushing to emergencies and dropping the boys off for gate sentry. He did take on more than he could chew as when it came to such emergencies, because he was a small operation, he would have to fetch personnel from one point and then drive them to another to get to the emergency. Needless to say, he did not get many subscribers unless they were looking for something cheap or just a visible presence.

Against the backdrop of the surrounding townships, farmers are the minority but remain the largest employers in the region. The media being biased, continue to report the ‘plight of the white’ whereas in reality, there are countless murders every day throughout the region; more so in the townships that go unreported. Farmhands are often the farmers’ best ally, particularly if they have worked with the farmer for some time however, they can also be the farmer’s worst enemy. They have valuable insight into the ins and outs of every aspect of the farm operations. In this part of South Africa, death is all around you and the sooner you come to terms with it, the better. Conversation is less fluffy and more to the point compared to daily conversations in Europe for example and South Africans have often been accused of having a chip on their shoulder whereas it is a result of daily life growing up in a volatile environment. Life has less value than the shirt on your back and in some cases violence and not reason is the only language understood. One has to be reminded of the many cultures and religions that South Africa accommodates and multiculturalism is not a natural order. It is a western construct to pigeon hole a dynamic. Zulus do not hang out with Xhosas, they tolerate each other but do not live in the same homelands and villages. Lions, leopards, cheetahs, all from the cat family do not sit well together in the natural world. There is always conflict. Antelope and buck may eat together but do not hang out together. The same with elephants and zebra who drink at the same watering hole but do not necessarily move together through the bush. In this way we can describe that people have different views and at times these will flare up despite us being of the same species and a supposedly more intelligent one at that. Multiculturalism is about tolerance so why don’t we call it just that? Tolerance. You see, when apartheid became a buzz word, it was about white on black but nobody addressed the issue of black on black because being typical Europeans, they assumed all blacks are the same. Now who is racist?

Today it has been heard, via the grapevine, that our local doctor’s farmhouse has been broken into by two intruders. The doctor arrived home late afternoon to find two black men, one in the bathroom and the other in another part of the house rifling through his belongings. He managed to locate his shotgun without being detected and subsequently shot the man in the bathroom in the head. Suffice to say it was quite a mess and one of the detectives was overheard saying, ‘there was kaffir everywhere’. The other managed to scramble away when he heard the shot. All the smaller windows had bars on them and so he jumped straight into a main window with a huge crash and sped off. The police searched the area but he was never caught. During that same week, a farmer across the way from mum and Ian’s farm, we could see his farm in the valley from the patio, is shot dead. Nothing is stolen and it is believed that it may have been a disgruntled farmhand. A couple of months later, the neighbour’s dogs are given a sleeping potion and the thieves attempted to steal his tractor. Entering from the rear of the property, the fact that there was a six foot vibracrete wall at the front of the property escaped them and whilst attempting to drive through the wall, they drove into it instead with them flying over the front of the engine and into the wall. This was deduced by the trail of blood firstly in front of the wall and then over and on the other side where they made their escape. It was punishment enough as it must have really hurt. The neighbour and his wife were a bit odd and pretty much kept to themselves. She in her hausfrau 1950s kitchen outfits and he in his safari suits. They lived alone on the property with two enormous dogs, a Rottweiler and a Rhodesian Ridgeback who were locked up during the day for fear of one of them taking a bite out of the farmhands. At night, and whole day weekends, they were free to roam. It’s no wonder they were inquisitive on the weekends and neighbours would find them sniffing around their properties. Sadly one of mum’s dashing hounds was mauled by one them and although survived, was never the same again with a punctured lung and spinal injury; but she had a good life to the end. It puzzled them as to how the criminals got so close to the property to administer the sedative to the dogs but also very surprised as to why they used a sedative and not a poison, which opens up a whole new set of questions. Was it an inside job? And so after that night, the neighbour hired a security guard. The poor chap spent most of his time up in a tree afraid of the dogs so that idea was soon abandoned.

The sun goes down and soon it is dark in the valley. Throughout the night gunfire pierces the silence. This happens regularly and I learn that farmers fire warning shots into the air before settling down for the night. Most evenings however are quiet, too quiet.