THE TRACTOR

THE TRACTOR

By Seth Sibhakuza Mnisi

15 July 2019

The story of the tractor begins with the letter dated 14 March 1968, written by our grandfather, Piet Felane Mnisi, to his first born son Johannes Mnisi. Johannes Tshihlana Mnisi was born in 1920, which would make our grandfather to be born circa 1895. Our grandfather was around 73 years old, an old man by then, while my father’s brother was 48 years old.

In the letter, our grandfather request the assistance of his son Tshihlana to procure a tractor from the dealers in the town. He required the tractor urgently before the time had run out for ploughing.

Despite at face value, this letter is a simple father’s request, it reveals the state of affairs in the country at the time and what was becoming a reality for majority of the Bantu people.

Not so long ago ( Mid eighteenth century) and later, my grandfather’s family relied on the traditional way of ploughing by using a Bantu hoe obtained from the Venda people, as told by Caissene Mundlovu, in the narrative of Heidi Gengenbach website under the section titled: "Everyone Has Her Own Hand": Pottery as Autographed Memory (http://www.gutenberge.org/geh01/frames/fgehnot.html, accessed by 14-07-2019).The extract is shown below:

Oral accounts of women's pottery look back as far as the mid-nineteenth century. They often cropped up unexpectedly in interviews. Caissene Mundlovu, for example, near the beginning of our first meeting surprised me with his response to a question about the birthplace of his clan ancestors. He told a long, excited story about a pre-1900 trade in hand-forged iron hoes and clay pots. Set in the eastern Transvaal and the Lebombo hills, Caissene's narrative wove women's work, marriage, and feminine social networks into a story (more familiar to scholars) about chiefly politics and long-distance trade in precolonial times. According to Caissene, his Mundlovu ancestors fled from their original home near Natal to a site he called "Kenhoek," in the Transvaal lowveld, because of the Gaza Nguni succession war in the early 1860s. Putting themselves under the protection of the Hlanganu chief Magwagwaza Munisse, the Mundlovu newcomers settled into a life of farming and friendly interaction with their hosts until rumors that the war was advancing prompted the refugees to move a short distance east, to a place known as Kumana (or Muqelene) in the Lebombo hills on the eastern edge of what is now Kruger Park in South Africa. As Caissene told it, before this second exodus "a son of Mundlovu, he courts a girl there, a MuHlanganu, in the family of Magwagwaza." The boy was Ngwavula Mbanyisa Mundlovu; the girl, Makassane Munisse, was the daughter of chief Magwagwaza's brother. Although Caissene says the two "loved each other," he also explains their marriage as arising from concerns that were rather more practical:

Well, this one, she gives birth to my mother—you will listen well! She accepted the son of the Mundlovu family, wa ka Mbanyisa. When she accepted him, well, they [i.e., Makassane's people] have this work, which is making pots. Those of the Mundlovu, those of our family, they didn't know that work, of making pots. Well, since they courted each other over there, they're maseve [in-laws ], with in-laws—you listen well! Yah. Well, when they were maseve, they [i.e., Mundlovus] want hoes, over there—because they don't have hoes. Well, they make swihiso [pl. of xihiso] and pots like this one here [Caissene points to khuwana], and madjomela [pl. of djomela], that you drink from. They make all these pots, those grandparents who gave birth to our mothers. Well, when they make those things, they take the pots, they go with them over there, to Vecha. There, in Vecha, they grind corn by hand, with stones. They're [living] over there in the place of stones [maribyeni]. VaVecha, they're another race, they're not MaChangana [i.e., Shangaan]. . . . Well, they [i.e., Mundlovus] want to buy hoes—there in Vecha they lovola a wife with just one of these hoes. Yah. They buy them with pots, they exchange with each other. . . .

Caissene's maternal grandmother Makassane, in other words, was a potter, who learned potmaking as a girl in chief Magwagwaza's village at a time when Hlanganu communities were trading their pottery for the hand-forged iron hoes of their Vecha neighbors to the north. According to Caissene, all Hlanganu women made pots, but the chief chose and sent only some of the women to take their wares to Vecha. The chiefs had an understanding about the terms of this exchange, and Makassane and the other women delivered directly into the hands of chief Magwagwaza the hoes they received for their pots. When the Mundlovus moved from Kenhoek to Kumana, their Hlanganu wives went with them, including Makassane and her sister Maphosa, who probably married Ngwavula as a nhlantswa. But these women regularly went back to Magwagwaza's place to visit their family, making it very easy for their Mundlovu in-laws to tap into this trade network themselves and to acquire a stockpile of Vecha hoes, which they carried with them when they migrated yet again from Kumana to the area of present-day Mapulanguene, probably around 1890.

At first, according to Caissene, Makassane and her fellow potters continued to travel across the Lebombos and to return home with hoes, which they presented to the local chief, Ngacene Mukavele. However, when in 1897 the Portuguese replaced chief Ngacene's successor—his daughter, N'waNgacene—with Munyamana Mathye Mundlovu, as a reward for Munyamana's having betrayed Maguiguana Khosa's hiding place, the Mathye branch of the Mundlovu clan assumed, along with colonial chiefship, control over the Vecha hoe supply. The valuable objects of a then dwindling regional exchange system were stored in the hillside cave that the Mundlovus had made into the sacred graveyard of their mintimu (ancestors). Mundlovu chiefs doled out these hoes with extreme care and ritual precaution to young Mundlovu men to use as bridewealth. "One hoe for one woman," as Caissene repeated, the policy of the Mundlovus in this regard being a continuation of that of the Hlanganu and Vecha chiefs before them.

About one hundred years later, the traditional life of the Bantu people, was drastically changed, when most of them were subjected to the labor tenant and native reserve system. They became cheap laborers for their new masters, the European colonizers. They lost their traditional land, and not only that, their traditional way of life and knowledge was quickly fading away into oblivion. My grandfather was by then a shop assistant, working for the Vosloo family. My grandfather had a keen interest to adopt new methods of food production as introduced by Europeans. He worked hard to improve his life under the new system and accumulated enough money to be in position to buy a tractor, perhaps the first tractor ever bought in the area by a black person.

The Union of South Africa identity and work document showing the earliest captured date of January 1953, confirming my grandfather’s employment at Puma Langa Winkel, Strydfontein Farm 37, Pos Kantor Branddraai, Via Lydenburg- Vosloo Farm, Ohrigstad.

The Union of South Africa identity and work document showing the latest captured date of December 1978, confirming my grandfather’s employment at Puma Langa Winkel, Strydfontein Farm 37, Pos Kantor Branddraai, Via Lydenburg-Vosloo Farm, Ohrigstad.

Some of my grandfather’s children, were induced by circumstances to find employment outside of native reserves and white farms. My father, Malulasi Mnisi, and his elder brother and first born son, Tshihlana Mnisi, managed to find employment in the cities of Pretoria and Johannesburg. They left behind their father, family and the rural life, and started a new life in the cities.

This situation created a new style of life for black people. It meant that the parents remained behind in the rural areas, while mostly boy children were employed in the cities. This lifestyle became a hallmark of dispossession from land and lack of knowledge to the means of food production using land. A vacuum was formed on an old lifestyle that characterized the African continent and people for unknown number of years, perhaps thousands of years.

The parents began to rely on the meagre salaries of their children in the cities, and whatever money they could accumulate from their service in the farms. The Bantu people grudgingly embraced the new way of life, both in the farms and cities, as imposed by the new realities. The cities offered better opportunities and salaries as compared to rural farm lands. This became a magnet for young men into the cities.

My grandfather saw a need to buy a tractor, a new food production technology, in contrast to the traditional hand forged hoe of the past hundred years, while still employed at Vosloo farm.

This new way of life and reality is gleaned from a three part letter from our Grandfather dated 14 March 1968. The letter was addressed to his first born son Johannes Tshihlana Mnisi as below:

The No.1 and No.2 section of our Grandfather Letter

The No.3 section of our Grandfather Letter

The letter in verbatim:

No. 1

14-3-68

Mr Johannes Minis

Nge mpilo mina ngiyapila kahle ntwanami ngiti eyakho icwadi ngiyitolile ngizwile inkulumo yako ngiti ngibongile ngemali eyivela kuwe ku R10 ngiyi tolile uSara ungipe yona yonke ngayonke into oyitumele lampa siyitolile nesisipo sisi tolile lesi utumele uSesi wako nemali yake uyitolile ngobonge kakulu mtwanami ngiti ngizwile ukuti uzofika lampa nge kari ngiti koza umpeki wako nabatwana ngizolinda ukufika kwako

Mr Piet Minisi

No.2

Nasoke indaba engikutyela yona ngiti siza kakulu ungifunele itrekere ungifunele egrashi eyibiza £ 100 – pasi no bo £ 120 - - kuzolunga ungityele uma uyitolile noba kukona abelungu laba tengisayo kuluma nabo ngiyayi funa masinyane ngifuna uku limi maje uma uyitolile ungityele kangiyifune masinyane kuyo lenyanga ngoba ngi isikati sizo dhlula kufuneka eyihamba nge disele ingama layo ifekisoni uma uyitolile ungityele masinyane sizo hlangana eBelifast

No.3

Uzongityela ilanga lokuhlangana ngalo eBelifasi kubo Sara uma ungayitoli ungityele masinyane ngizofuna kwenye idawo ungifunele eyipilile kahle ungipendule ngesiZulu ngizozwa kahle angifuni ukuyo lesisa kwabanye ungamangali uma ungatolanga ipendulo masinyani koza bonke

Piet Minis

Ungongo Kanyisani kafikile kimi momfazi kaMalulasi kafikile kimi ngokungula komtwana wake

The modern Zulu translation of the letter:

No. 1

14-3-68

Mr Johannes Mnisi

Ngempilo mina ngiyaphila kahle mtwanami, ngithi eyakho incwadi ngiyitholile, ngizwile inkulumo yakho. Ngithi ngobongile ngemali eyivela kuwe engu-R10, ngiyitholile. USara ungiphe yona yonke, nayo yonke into oyithumele lapha, siyitholile, nesipho sisitholile, lesi osithumele uSesi wakho, nemali yakhe uyitholile. Ngibonge kakhulu mtwanami, ngithi ngizwile ukuthi uzofika lapha ngeKari. Ngithi khonza umpheki wakho, nabantwana. Ngizolinda ukufika kwakho.

Mr Piet Mnisi

No.2

Nansi indaba engikutshela yona, ngithi siza kakhulu ungifunele iTrekere. Ungifunele eGaragi ebiza £ 100 – phansi nabo £ 120 – Kuzolunga ungitshele uma uyitholile, noma kukhona abelungu abathengisayo, ukhulume nabo. Ngiyayifuna masinyane, ngifuna ukulima manje. Uma uyitholile, ungitshele ngoba ngiyifuna masinyane, kuyo lenyanga, ngoba isikathi sizondlula.Kufuneka ehamba ngeDiseli, igama layo iFegisoni. Uma uyitholile, ungitshele masinyane, sizohlangana eBelfasi.

No.3

Uzongitshela ilanga lokuhlangana eBelifasi, kubo Sara. Uma ungayitholi, ungitshele masinyane, ngizoyifuna kwenye indawo. Ungifunele eyiphilile kahle. Ungiphendule ngesiZulu, ngizozwa kahle, angifuna ukuyofundelwa kwabanye.Ungamangali uma ungatholanga impendulo masinyane. Khonza bonke.

Piet Mnisi

Ugogo Khanyisani, wayefikile kimi , nomfazi kaMalulasi wayefikile kimi, ngokugula komtwana wakhe.

The English translation of the letter:

No. 1

14-3-68

Mr Johannes Mnisi

My health is good my child. I have received your letter and understood your message. I thank you for the money you gave me, the R10 that I received. Sarah gave it all to me, including all that you sent here, we received it, including the gift and money you sent to your sister. Thank you very much my child. I heard that you would come here in a car. Greet your cook and children. I would await your arrival.

Mr Piet Mnisi

No.2

This is my request to you. Please help me to find a Tractor from the dealers, worth between £ 100 and £ 120. It would be good to let me know once you have found it, even if there are whites who are selling it, speak to them. I need it quickly, I want to plough now, this month, before the time is past. I want the one that uses Diesel, the Fergusson tractor. Once you have found it, let me know, and we would meet at Belfast.

No.3

Let me know when we would meet at Belfast, at Sarah’s place. If you don’t find it, tell me in time, so that I can look for it in other places. I need the one in good condition. Please answer me in Zulu language, so that I can understand better, I don’t want to get translation from others, the reason why I took longer to answer your letter. Greet all.

Piet Mnisi

Grandmother Khanyisani was here, together with Malulasi’s wife, in connection with her sick child.

The new way of life dictated that young men started families in the cities who relied on employment from the city industries, and all other means of employment. Townships were created by the government to house the swelling masses of cheap labor, while rural areas were drained of young men, and in some cases, young women. What was lost was not only the taken land, but the knowledge to work land using modern tools, for food production. The cause of this new system was engineered by the new masters.

In the case of our family, our grandfather was left in the rural areas with the knowledge of food production and tools in the land, while his sons and some daughters were consumed in the cities, with the result that they lost the knowledge to food production and tools in the land. When our grandfather passed on, so was his skills in working the land using modern tools. The little knowledge, even if full knowledge, that his sons and daughters knew about working land using old or modern tools, was also lost because it could not be practiced in the townships and cities, even in semi-rural townships. The result was that, we as the second generation from our grandfather, we have no clue to work the land using modern tools to produce food. We have therefore become township and suburban dwellers, employed in the cities, in whatever employment opportunities the cities offers.

The tractor below also died a “natural death”, as it remains stationary in my aunt yard, at Rietfontein, Ohrigstad, were my grandfather parked it, as shown below:

Our Grandfather Tractor: The symbol of the above truth

Now the question arises- How does our new government of national unity return the land to Bantu people whose land was taken? This is the wrong question to ask. The correct question to ask is –How does our new government of national unity return the land and knowledge to Bantu people whose land was disposed in the past?

Our present government answered the wrong question initially by returning some tract of land to some communities without addressing the question of knowledge and tools that are required to work the land for food production. This led to disaster with some land turned into barren lands. Therefore it is injustice to grant people land who lack the knowledge and tools to work that land, even if they are willing to buy such land and tools.

But who are the keepers of knowledge in working the land using modern tools, for food production? The well pruned farmers are the keepers of this knowledge, some of them being the descendants of the original beneficiaries of the Bantu people land dispossession. Apart from them, farmers from other lands outside South Africa also possess such knowledge. To gain knowledge takes time and involves cost. Therefore, there is a cost to be incurred in procuring such knowledge. Further, the government of national unity is faced with the cost factor associated with granting new productive lands and necessary tools to claimants. Therefore, the solution is possible, but it requires careful consideration of all factors without compromising the already productive sectors of the farming community, irrespective of the history.

We therefore trust that the story of the tractor would eventually become a good story to tell, when our claim is finalized.

Our family claim is shown below. I can also confirm that the Bantu people did not have such things as deeds or registered rights as contemplated by the acknowledgement letter below.