Last week, I was working in the Western Cape, specifically speaking to farmworkers in rural areas just outside Cape Town.
For the first part of the week the discussions centred on working conditions on farms and food insecurity. For the rest of the week I participated in discussions at the Food Indaba that again highlighted the issue of food insecurity, with a specific focus on food waste. In a country where one in four homes is food insecure, there is food waste of more than 10 million tonnes – a staggering figure, especially considering our hunger crisis.
Read more: On landfills, butternut and buffets — Zero Waste Summit
As I visited the farmworkers, who graciously allowed my colleague and me into their modest homes, I couldn’t help but admire their bravery and willingness to speak out despite possible retaliation from the farmers on whom they depend for their meagre incomes. In fact, a particular moment of tension took us all aback, but it was a further indicator of the urgency of the required intervention. We witnessed one of the women, whom I’ll call Janet to protect her identity, being intimidated by an angry farmer because she was speaking to us.
The farmer, having seen us arrive, shouted angrily, demanding to know who we were, and proceeded to shout at and threaten Janet in her home. Once he realised he couldn’t do much about the situation short of physically muzzling her, he stormed off angrily, muttering to himself.
You see, what Janet was telling us about was their deplorable working conditions. She told us that she only had seasonal work, which could sometimes end up being only two to three months out of the year. She said in a “good month” she could make R4,800.
Although Janet’s husband was considered to have more of a steady income than her, as well as a contract, he made a similar amount. However, in the rainy season, if, for example, it rained for a week and no work could take place, he would not get paid for that week. This, Janet said, meant it was quite difficult to put food on the table consistently for her family of five.
Another alarming practice that Janet told us about was the use of harmful pesticides on the farm, with workers receiving no personal protective equipment to shield them. She described being out in the field working with other farmworkers and having pesticides being sprayed on both them and the produce as they worked.
Besides being completely shocked, I also felt angry at the inhumane treatment that vulnerable communities like this face in our food system. It really drove home the point that the Constitution, and all it promises, often fails to reach those who need it most. And this places a responsibility on those of us with social capital and proximity to power to ask harder questions: how exactly does the food we eat every day – and the wine we enjoy – get to our plates? DM