The Complexity Of Wilding. So Much Water, None to Pump.

The weather can only be described as moody recently.

I have not mentioned my medical status recently. For the cancer, I have been told I am under surveillance. I am awaiting a further update from my oncologist. Meanwhile, I have been plagued by bladder infections, and I think the antibiotics are taking a toll, as I often feel nauseous and very tired. Aaargh, I just received my latest results, and they show I still have an infection. Three days later, my GP seemed to have found a solution, long me it last. You can see it is a bit like a roller coaster. I am still happy to have the occasional lunch out, but I have been only going to local familiar restaurants. Meanwhile, Rozanne is the ever-patient nurse.

As I have said previously, watching rugby and podcasts keeps me busy. Thank goodness the garden needs little work in winter. I am not up to that yet. I read a bit, but nothing like I used to, as I have been struggling to find a book that suits me; in saying that, I always read a few pages of some Kindle crime story or similar before falling asleep. The podcasts I watch generally focus on farming, fishing and rugby. 

The one thing I read this week was the minutes of the Commercial Farmers Union (CFU) Congress post-meeting, where elections should have taken place. It is depressing reading and with no action on the recommendations contained in the legal opinion to date. I wonder about the future of the CFU if this is ignored. Is it a case of the man seeing himself as more important than the organisation he represents?

“So many poor leaders believe they are indispensable even when the constituents demand change. This is usually due to their ignorance and arrogance rather than their intelligence or political savvy.” - Peter McSporran

The Complexity Of Wilding.

Watching the farming podcasts reminds me how hard it is to farm and make money. As most of the podcasts I watch are generated in the UK, I shudder every time I see a farmer out in the freezing rain, much worse than snow or a cold frosty morning, trying to feed or herd their livestock. Thank goodness I moved to farm in Africa. Many farmers in the UK have diversified to survive, running farm shops or offering farm stays or some other form of agri-tourism to survive. Exotic animals are now kept as added attractions to their farms. This is especially true in the more marginal areas. You just have to work out the numbers in a hill farmer's gross income from a few hundred ewes and sixty cows to see how tight things are. From this, he has to feed, fence and house his animals where necessary, pay his council taxes, and feed his family. It is a hell of a lot less than a train driver makes. Now I hear hill farmers are probably going to lose a further 37% in subsidies.

“Many marginal farmers stay on the land because it has belonged to their families for generations. The thought of giving it up is just too much of a challenge mentally. Unlike other employment, they see shame in giving up farming their land for something easier and more rewarding.” - Peter McSporran

Fly tipping on a farm road in Wrexham.

What further strikes me as ominous is how badly the British urban dwellers act in the countryside. They show little respect for the countryside, the farmer, or his stock. Happily, leaving gates open or walking through crops have always been a problem. There is little conception of what harm can come to animals or to others if they are allowed to wander. The farmer's time is one thing, but accidents caused by stray animals on the road are much more serious. Woe betide you if your animal hurts someone despite the cause being the negligence of others. Fly dumping is a major industry now, not the odd fridge or cooker but truckloads of them. Theft in the countryside used to be rare; it is commonplace, sophisticated GPS equipment being a premium along with quad bikes. A week rarely goes by, and one of my podcasters will report dogs having worried their sheep. Never reported by the owner of the perpetrating dog, more often an anonymous caller.

“Unreported dog worrying should be treated the same as causing a vehicle accident and leaving the scene.” - Peter McSporran

You can see the size of this magnificent oak by comparing Martin on its left. Imagine if a farmer and not a beaver had destroyed it.

Meanwhile, the Greenies are busy adding misery to the farmers' lives by demanding more and more restrictions on the use of the farmers’ own land, streams and woods. Just this week, Martin Kennedy, the President of the Scottish National Farmers Union, was so infuriated by the damage being done by beavers to a river system near him, stating the likely long-term cost and effect on farmer viability and public infrastructure damage. He dared post a video of the damage on ‘X’. How much abuse did he receive in return with very little sympathy? He showed a large oak tree ringed and barked about to fall into a major river, no doubt to float downstream before creating a dam at the next bridge. It appears if you are not a rural dweller, you can not see the ramifications of these Green Crusaders' actions. 

Thank goodness my farming is restricted to watching podcasts nowadays.

So Much Water, None to Pump.

December 1992 was a month of good and bad in Zimbabwe farming. The first rain after an extended drought in Africa is always welcome, although it often causes damage before its benefits are felt. One morning at the CFU, we got an urgent call to come to Middle Save as, despite the rain, there was still a major water crisis there. Jerry Grant, the deputy director of the CFU and I decided to attend to better understand the reasons for the water crisis despite heavy rains having fallen in the catchment. As the voice at the end of the phone was highly agitated, we decided to fly down there as quickly as we could. 

“In the new Zimbabwe, crises in agriculture were more often caused by bureaucratic ineptitude or corruption, rather than natural causes.” - Peter McSporran

Middle Save is one of the hottest and driest places in Zimbabwe. Over the previous twenty years, a group of small-scale and commercial farmers flourished under a couple of ambitious greenfield irrigation development schemes. The smallholders grew cotton only, while the commercial farmers in Middle Save grew cotton in summer and wheat in winter. The main target crop was cotton, which flourished in the hot climate with irrigation, while winter wheat was more of a break-even crop to make use of the water and irrigation equipment in winter, reducing overheads per hectare farmed. The water was sourced from the Save River, which flowed from north of Odzi and Mutare on the Western boundary of the scheme. This particular event occurred before the Osborne Dam was built, with the farmers relying on the river's natural flow, which was fast becoming more and more unreliable as the siltation from the Save Valley increased. This siltation was mainly due to the poor conservation farming methods allowed to take place throughout the valley, including river bank cultivation and bad farming practices in a fragile and vulnerable environment. After independence, river bank cultivation, although illegal, became a favoured farming practice. It was argued its banning had been to prejudice small-scale farmers during Rhodesian times, especially those with river and stream access. The use of contours to protect the soil was also abandoned as a needless colonial practice. The opposite, of course, was true. They protected the soils from erosion and protected the rivers from siltation. Soon, like many places in Africa, the Save Valley became more desert-like. The Save was a major river and millions of tonnes of topsoil was swept away. In many places, including Middle Save, the river flowed under the sand for part of the year, with the water having to be extracted by the use of sand pumps.

Phil Mennie and Neville Baker in the Save River soup in 1992. Picture The Farmer Magazine.

The water to the Middle Save Resettlement Scheme was meant to be managed and supplied by the Regional Water Authority (RWA). They were meant to supply the water to the edge of the farmer's land and charged for this service. Like all parastatals in Zimbabwe, which were fast becoming employment centres for ruling party members and their friends, it was totally ineffectual. The original effective water bailiff was moved on and, in fact, retrenched; nothing worse for someone in a role due to nepotism being shown up by a professional.  

At the onset of the drought, the farmers asked permission to sink boreholes into the huge aquiflow that lay under their farms to supplement their water supply. The RWA was reluctant to give permission; rather than see it as a positive development, they saw it as a possible loss of income. Not only was the farmer’s viability at stake but so were the jobs of five thousand employees. Finally, the RWA agreed to boreholes, but to the farmer’s dismay, the  RWA said they would do it, allowing them to continue charging for the water and contracted a Chinese company to carry out the drilling and fitting. This delayed the commencement of the boreholes by two years; no doubt someone was organising a suitable kickback. 

“When it comes to self-gain, bureaucrats can be both innovative and industrial unlike when they are meant to carry out their designated duties.” - Peter McSporran

The farmers could have sunk their own boreholes to meet their needs in months, not years. Sure, the water was slightly brackish, but the plan was to blend the underground water with river water. The only benefit of the Chinese being present was fewer snakes and no stray dogs. Many of the Chinese workers sent to Africa appear to have been and are low-grade criminals.

The final nail in the coffin was that the farmers had been warning the RWA for nearly a year that the present sand embankment guiding the trickle to the pump houses was inadequate if the river came down in flood. This plea was ignored, although reluctantly, they did send ten labourers with shovels to strengthen it. The farmers added a further two hundred workers, but the task was massive, requiring heavy earth-moving equipment. In early December, with the onset of heavy rains in the catchment, the river came down in flood, sweeping the human's feeble efforts away, not only washing away everything in its path but also substantially changing the course of the river to a position well away from the present pumping points burying the existing pumps under silt and muck in its wake. The water was more like soup, laden with sand and silt gathered in its course through the Save Valley.

On arrival, we were met by about fifteen very irritated and angry farmers, including the chairman of their association, Stewart Gunn. Also in attendance were Neville Baker, Harry Barrat, and Phil Mennie, to name a few. Hammy Hamilton, an Odzi Farmer and a member of the RWA board, also attended but could only apologise as his voice was a lone one of reason.

“We have been sitting here for eighteen months without water and now face the loss of another crop.” - an irritated Neville Baker

Further, by the time we arrived, the RWA had at last sent down a bulldozer to assist after the water flooded, the exhaust of which we could see protruding from the muddy water. Too little too late.

The silted Save River from the iconic Birchenough Bridge.

We could not do much more than commiserate and promise to raise the matter with the responsible ministry. Just a couple of beers at the club before departing on the small plane, no hope of a toilet on the long flight home.

Needless to say, over the next month, with the use of sand pumps and the completion of a few boreholes, Middle Save got into production again.

Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.