Banti inherited his farm from his parents. He and his family lived from it. It was everything to them.
They ploughed
it every year for their house comsumption. In a good year kids sell watermelons, beans, fresh and dried vegetables in town. And for the money they buy new clothes and school uniform.
The early morning hour’s silence was broken by the sound of the messenger’s drum. Everybody hurried out towards the kgotla (meeting place).
The village elders have been holding meetings with the
government officials for days in close doors and now the
villagers were starting to wonder what all was about. Finally they were going to be informed about the purpose of the official’s visit.
The chief introduced the guests to the gathering and gave them permission to address the villagers.
As their village was lying in the outskirts of the big city, the government has decided to build a road from the city to their village, they were told. There was a complete silence through out the official’s speech from the crowd.
Then the villagers were given opportunity to ask any questions, they might be having.
One of the villagers came forward and said.
“We need time to discuss the matter among ourselves, before commenting on the matter. Then the meeting was set up to the next moon.
After a long discussion, they all agreed that the road can be built to the village, provided it was fenced to protect their stock. Little did they know that this was the beginning of loosing their farms to the government for developments as they called it?
As years pass by, slowly the city begin to grow bigger and bigger swallowing their farms on the way. Farmers were paid a small amount of money for their lands of which they used quickly and carelessly. Their own traditional living patterns changed. Their kids hang out in the city streets and beg for food. Soon they were so many that it was becoming a problem for the public and shop owners. The authorities were asked to step in. This was not easy for the authorities because, they couldn't arrest them for roaming the streets. So, the people have to get used to them. This was the beggining of pocket pickers, child prostitution, which they are still today fighting, without success.
Ranti was one of the few, who refused to sell his farm. He told the government officials to bring their government. If it is the government who sent them to buy his farm. He want to talk to the government himself. They never come back. Even today he’s still waiting for the government. And still living from his farm as did his grandgrand parents and parents did many years before him.