The vagaries of a dreamer

I’ve been away awhile, it feels like yesterday, but as most of us know, time flies when you’re having fun. To catch up: I found myself a piece of land in the wonderful world of the Wild Coast, not the wannabe part that has been commercialized to death, the real wild coast, from the Great Kei river to the Wild Coast Sun on the Mtamvuna River, where nature still has a place in protecting our great ocean and the beaches and dunes that border it. Let me not paint too rosy a picture, the global warming damage is happening here just as much as the rest of the world, but having a 1km stretch of land bordering the beach that is protected from human habitation, has left us with a magnificent coastline stretching some 400km in length, that has a natural wildness to it almost unsurpassed in the world today in respect of homo sapien habited coastlines.

The small village that gave me just less than 1 acre to farm on, ostensibly called family land in this rural climate, land you live on and leave to your family members into perpetuity, (land in rural Africa cannot be bought, it can only be given with the blessing of the community) became mine in September 2018. My intentions were to develop a permaculture farm, food security for myself and mine and food to sell to the some 350 souls that share this spot with me. The spot is Qolora by Sea, made up of 6 villages and mine is named Vaku. The land I chose and was given borders the Gxara river which has a stream running off it below me and in front of me through the cleft in the dunes I have a magnificent sea view. My almost 6 years here have been magical. I was in my element taking a piece of overgrown and unusable land from the community and turning it into a lush oasis full of vegetables and fruit trees and a real chance of a completely self sufficient lifestyle, solar powered, rain water tanks, compostable toilets rubbish recycled, self built house, shed and soon to be library, an idyllic existence. I presently have an excitable and energetic border collie pup, not yet 2 years old who revels in the wilderness and space, she has cattle, sheep and goats to herd and move around, long walks on the beach, hundreds of projects on the farm, seeds to sow fruit trees to grow, the library to build and the peace and quiet of country life.

I was set for an adventuress and fulfilling old age, all shattered in a day. When at a recent meeting of the community, I asked if local cattle owners could make some effort to keep their cows away from my fences, they lean against the poles and push the fences over to get at my long sweet grass and lushes garden, who can blame them, especially when the offering outside is dry sour grass. My request was met with derision, then anger, then rhetoric that quickly became rage, then a little mob madness, a mass of locals carrying sticks and tools that looked ominous coming to break my fences, open them up and tell me I have an incorrect property border and need to move my stone walls and 4m gate 2m inside the fence.
I’ve had a very strange life, many scars, many attacks, many adventures, many wild days, places visited, countries traveled, I can go on and on but suffice to say, I have learnt how to stay calm in the face of violence, assess the situation and make judgment calls that have kept me alive to live another day, my daughter tells me I’m hard to kill, so me alone against 9 wild looking black fellas carrying weapon like objects, although terrifying, did not reduce me to a blubbering blob. I did film them for posterity, they did try to stop me doing that but my pepper spray kept them at bay. The hotheads agitated for awhile, they came onto my property and brandished insults, sticks and rhetoric, none of which I understood, they broke a few fences and made their point and finally left to shout and scream elsewhere as angry mobs of crazed men with too much time on their hands tend to do. They finally left and carried their mob mentality a safe distance away.

Long story short, after police intervention and some cool heads, I told them I will leave quietly and they can have their land back, just give me a week or two to pack up 6 years of my life and store it in a small space, say goodbye to my little haven and move on.

At first my anger led me to want to cut down all my trees and destroy my garden and set a match to the rest, but I would never be able to cut down my 5 ½ year old avo trees, one is producing avos for the first time, my 8 year old orange tree that I carted around the country in a pot for 4 years and planted lovingly here before I even moved onto the land, that now has 24 beautiful oranges swaying in the breeze and just not yet ready to pick, but orangy in colour, I’ve watched them grow and turn over the last 9 months, and many more wonders that are growing on this spot that I thought would always be mine.

So I am going to gift the little bit that I have created here in the harsh and windy climate of the wild coast and I’m going to hope that my trees survive by nature alone, which is the very essence of permaculture. My red plum, my 4 new peach trees, my apricot and my new litchi may be hard pressed, they are still small and shade cloth protected, my 3 mango trees and countless avo tress, my 2 oranges, my naartjie, 12 paw paw trees and one lonely lemon, my 3 apple trees, my guavas, bananas, granadillas what a feast of free food for a community living a hand to mouth existence, relying on the government grant and eating a diet largely bereft of nutrients leaving many of their number with the age old debilitating diseases that are the result of a lack of decent sustenance, like sugar diabetes.

I’ve spent the last few days wondering about the group mentality that would not relish a food forest in their midst, delicious, fresh, sweet, affordable, free of pesticides and grown with love, I have spread my seeds to every person who wanted them, and now I’m told this land was loaned to me, taken away from the cattle and now to be restored to them. Words fail me, but I will thank the good mother earth for blessing me with an education, a long life of wandering, many adventures and a deep seated understanding of permaculture, I cannot understand these neighbours of mine, my best friend one day and my worst enemy the next with hate and violence in their hearts, but I leave them with everything I need to sustain me going forward, my health at 65, my beautiful dog, Nyuka, who keeps me fit and grounded, my passion for developing food security no matter where I end up and my two boxes holding thousands of seeds, more than enough to put down roots elsewhere and start again. I am also blessed with the two most magnificent, supportive daughters, a magnificent friend of many years and other helpful folk.

I will also be leaving all my buildings, my vegetable gardens, the most magnificent soil built over five years into rich, dark hummus. I have people who will come and take my building supplies ,fencing and roof sheets and anything else they can make use of, so not all will be lost. I am also donating my 100 fruit trees in pots to the couple that run the yard service in Kei Mouth, I can take heart that 100 homes will have a fruit tree donated and planted that I grew, when next their lawn is mowed, my gift to mother earth. I am sorry my similar gift left at Vaku will go to the cows and probably be destroyed, robbing these children of rich fruit to pick when they want, but such is the mentality of life in a community where a whole generation or two were denied the education and benefits I enjoyed as a white person under the cruel system of apartheid, I try and imagine how I would have felt, looking at someone like me if I had grown up in this very narrow world of little riches, but I cannot, it would mean clearing my memory of every good experience in my life, I cannot imagine that, so I must accept that a woman living alone, independent, without the need of a man and creating a self sufficient life must have been quite the culture shock and a terrible threat the patriarchal dominance of African rural life. I say my goodbyes here without regret, much learnt, much loved and little lost because my soul is intact.

I am now, well I will be at months end, homeless yet again and in need of a new opportunity in this beautiful land of ours. If anyone in my preferred community of permaculture enthusiasts can make use my skills and knowledge and can offer me a small place to live where I can plant my seeds, and where there is space to hike over mountains or rivers with my dog, or a caretakers job if someone wants to take a break from their responsibilities for awhile, please let me know, I am open to any suggestion anyone has to offer.

With my very warmest wishes

Bubbles

Whatsupp 073 994 2639

P.S. A little trivia for those history buffs, the village I live in borders the stream called Nongqawuse's stream. This was where a young girl saw a vision in the water and her uncle, the local witch doctor, used this to enhance his status, he encouraged the prophecy to provoke the colonially embittered Xhosa people in 1856 to rise up and kill their cattle and destroy their crops. As the movement drew to a close, around 400,000 cattle had been slaughtered and an estimated 80,000 Xhosa died of starvation.

Perhaps not all ills can be laid at the door of apartheid.

her little stream