One of the groups of farmers we work with farm in a controversial area – the Msimbazi Valley. In the past few months, there’s been lots of media attention on the valley, mainly due to research findings (confirmed or not depends on who you ask) about the toxicity of the water and soil.
The Msimbazi Valley runs along the middle of Dar es Salaam. It’s huge, with estimates of hundreds of, maybe even a thousand, people who directly make their living from urban agriculture here. It’s also a politically charged space because a palm oil company (SUKITA), controlled by the CCM (political party that has been in power since independence), owns the valley land. But rampant corruption means that company officials have started selling individual parcels of land without legal land tenure. People have bought land, built their homes, and set up their farms (see aside below*). Yet, none of them actually own the land they have spent their lives’ fortune on.
Msimbazi Valley is downstream to many of the industrial factories. Hence, untreated toxic by-products and sewage pollute the river, which is the only source of irrigation water for the farmers. The valley also floods during rainy season, so even if the farmers don’t irrigate with the water, the water still contaminates the soil.
The recent media attention means that nobody wants to buy vegetables from the valley anymore. Understandably so. The area has been declared illegal for urban agriculture. Forced removals happen all the time. My former roommate saw farmers beaten by the police; when asked, nobody says anything. The head of the municipal Agriculture and Livestock Department has no sympathy whatsoever. Whenever we try to bring this issue up when working for demarcating land for urban agriculture, the answer is always a strict no. It’s also hard for my organization to advocate on the farmers’ behalf, as too much controversy would gain us more enemies and slow down the process of legitimization.
Yet, it seems like nobody (except the farmers themselves) recognizes the large white elephant in the room: the farmers aren’t the ones causing the pollution. They grow toxic vegetables because of unregulated factories and non-existent sewerage treatment facilities. They are unable to invest in soil remediation or boreholes for cleaner water because they were sold illegal land through corruption (who would put money in when you could be kicked off any day?). The real blame is the unwillingness of the government to force the actual polluters to pay. Keeping foreign-investment is obviously more important than backward rural activities that don’t belong in a city. Neither is the government willing to spend money to ensure safe disposal of sewage. Nor anger people of power who illegally sell land. No, the blame has to be put on the farmers – marginalized, poor, and politically voiceless. What a convenient, apolitical scapegoat.
And that is the problem I have with the way most of us are taught to think – it’s too apolitical. During my political ecology class, I was taught to always ask “for whom.” Such and such practice is beneficial…for whom? We should make this policy because it is good…for whom? We often forget that behind most actions, there are the beneficiaries and then there are those who lose out. By asking “for whom” it clarifies the seemingly apolitical recommendations we make.
One example that really struck home is the accepted notion that soil erosion is an evil that should be stopped. But is that a universal statement? Who benefits from stopping erosion? What about the farmer at the bottom of the valley? Erosion is when the fertile top soil from the top of the mountain slides down to the bottom. The farmer at the bottom of the valley actually stands to grow better crops because of erosion. Certainly, I’m not saying that erosion shouldn’t be stopped because it benefits some farmers; soil erosion destroys other parts of the ecosystem also. I’m just trying to demonstrate that many of the facts that we take for the truth actually have hidden “for whom” statements that can prod us to rethink our, often “scientific” or “unbiased,” recommendations.
*(aside: I always get frustrated when people don’t see farm land as a structure on the same level as a building. I get it all the time when town planners say that you can’t knock down buildings but can kick people off farms, even if they were both built without permission. Farmers are built. It takes a lot of work to build a farm. I’ll like to see you clear off the vegetation, pick out the rocks, till the land, plant, weed, and irrigate. All back breaking work. Sigh.)