Through discussions with women across our land reform sites, the changing cultures of marriage, divorce, separation and the role of independent, single women were a subject of much commentary. With new marriage arrangements and timings, the classic old-style ‘conjugal bargain’ between men and women, in which women are incorporated into husbands’ families and kin networks, is changing. The stigma around divorced/widowed women returning home and claiming or managing their fathers’ land is also easing. In rare cases, even daughter-in-laws assume recognisable roles in the absence of their husbands, reflecting how both access to land and male migration unsettle long established traditions. This has implications for women’s roles in both production and social reproduction.
Mrs C from Masvingo district offered a classic admonishment of the younger generation:
These days, our children no longer follow our culture; they don’t listen to elders’ advice, but they do whatever they want. Our past way of life and customs were good because our elders would sit us down and guide us, we would listen and follow given guidance. In the past men were the ones that would instruct and advise sons while the women gave advice to daughters.
Mai M from Gutu district explained how early marriages may result in separations and divorce:
Marriages lately happen prematurely because some young people date for a short time and without fully knowing each other, they rush to get married, only to regret it later…These days, there are a lot of divorces going on; young people do not value marriage anymore. It’s hard to understand why the divorce rate is high, and it’s both men and women; no one is patient or willing to sustain a marriage. When you try to advise them, they will tell you that they’re not as naïve as the older generation.
Several of our informants rejected the idea of the ‘stable marriage’ with the wife dutifully managing her husband’s property and living in his family area. Experiences of abuse within marriage had encouraged some to reject it altogether. NA from Mvurwi argued that if a man wanted to marry her, then he had to come to her land, “I prefer focusing on raising my children than getting married. I decided to focus on my land rather than get married, where I might even be abused. But if he wants to stay here, I will marry him instead of me leaving my land.”
Not all single women are so confident and self-reliant, however. JS observed that divorcees have trouble in the community, being judged and discriminated against:
People with failed marriages are looked down upon in the community; if they see you with a man, they always assume that you have taken someone’s husband. If you’re a single mother they will judge you and accuse you of things you did not do…if you want to be part of a certain leadership position in the community, you struggle to get support from other women, as they think you will steal their man, you’re given a character that is not yours because you do not have a husband.
Women frequently lose out during divorces, and living independently can be harsh, as SS explained:
Most women lose everything when marriage fails. They just walk away without anything, even though they’re taught that when marriage fails, you need to share. I left everything behind when my marriage failed. I did not even bother with maintenance because courts can be expensive and time-consuming. There’s no respect for leaving your marriage; you are treated like you’re nothing. Sometimes they blame you for the divorce. When you do not have a man, you’re nothing, and no one respects you, even in the community; you can even start being called names. You can sometimes be called a prostitute, and you just make peace with it because there is nothing you can do. Sometimes, when you want to borrow a plough from the man of the house, you have to do it through the wife because if you talk to the husband, you would be accused of wanting their husband. Women do not trust a single mother around their husbands.
FY had similar experiences as a single woman, but sought support from a spiritual Apostolic church for the discrimination being faced, both within the family and the wider community:
Sometimes they look down on people like us, calling us prostitutes, and you get judged for circumstances beyond me. I just put it to the Lord and ask Him to sustain and protect me. I grew up in the Salvation Army, but I joined Masowe through a neighbour who felt that the way my father was treating me needed a spiritual intervention.
In the past, failed marriages were frowned upon, and women who returned home were often not welcomed. This has changed, with many daughters living with parents as single mothers, contributing to the home and farm, as Mai M from Gutu district explained:
When your daughter comes back, you need to accept her back. Now society has changed, so when women come back from their marriage, they’re accepted back. She will be at home. People act like not having a man means you’re nothing; they look down upon you and think that you cannot achieve anything. I have no energy to fight people over the way they treat me for not having a man. People will respect me when they see the work and achievements I make on my own. A man is important in the family, but when things happen outside God’s will, you just need to soldier on.
In Mvurwi, similar trends were noted, as described by JS, “My parents accepted us back home without any problems. My sister started living at my parents’ house in 2015.” Her sister brought her husband to her father’s homestead and he now acts as the ‘son’ that her parents do not have. In the past, this would be frowned upon and deemed to be against ‘culture’ especially in the context of patrilocality.
Violence and abuse within marriages was reflected on by a number of informants, with women living at their husband’s parents’ home being vulnerable:
The moment the money finished, the violence started again. I got pregnant around that time; I was 14 years old, and my child is currently 26. This was caused by the situation that was at home. The violence that happens in marriage, it makes me think it’s better to stay alone. I got married again because of my condition [disability], and I needed help. Sometimes it ends up being the same as being alone, as you see this heap of grass, and the work done in the household falls on me despite my health struggles.
There has been a significant benefit for me as a woman coming here. Now I have enough space to keep my chickens, but I still do not have my freedom. I am still being told what to do by my husband; he always has a lot to say, so I still don’t have freedom. My mother-in-law has since passed on. I never ate meat when I stayed with my mother-in-law. When they cooked chicken, they would only give me the head and feet. Even while I was here, that was still the case. I was told to keep the chicken for my mother-in-law and to give that piece whenever I see her… If anyone cooks, they will dish for themselves. I don’t fight to dish meat that I did not cook. I eat what I am given. Sometimes my husband would threaten to kick me out, claiming I should leave his land. I had to learn to respond by telling him that this is our children’s place.
A husband’s relatives may perceive that they ‘own’ both the wife and her property when a husband dies. Struggles over inheritance, despite formally progressive inheritance legislation in favour of women, were a repeated theme across our interviews. With more property accumulated on land reform farms, widows are especially susceptible to depredation by relatives, as MM from Mvurwi explained:
I bought a generator for the farm, a pump, and a stand in Mvurwi so I can stay; all those pumps and generators were taken away from me when my husband died. My husband’s family took everything, even withholding and refusing to sign for pension payments from 2012 to 2015. The stand I bought was from the farm labourer. I ended up selling it because the husband’s relatives were up in arms about my wanting the inheritance, even though I’d worked for it.
Moving to the land reform areas was often seen as an escape from predatory relatives who are jealous of the success of those in the resettlements, as Mai M from Masvingo district explained:
I am lucky that we moved away from relatives, which makes it difficult for them to come here and claim my husband’s things. When they come here to visit children, they get hurt that we are doing well and that they cannot take over my late husband’s things; they even start assuming that I killed my husband and am now enjoying the work of his labour. It’s a good thing they’re far away because I do not have to constantly deal with them, and they can’t claim the inheritance or influence children or workers. My husband’s older brother wanted to inherit this place, but it’s good that they’re far away; they can only admire but do nothing about it.
Cultural norms around relationships between men and women change slowly. While there is a wider acceptance of single women – no longer universally condemned as ‘witches’ or ‘prostitutes’ – the ability to survive independently in a patriarchal society is very reliant on the attitudes of men and older women, both within the wider community and within families. Generational differences in attitudes are very evident in many homes, with older men and women from a husband’s family often oppressing younger wives. In polygamous families, disputes between wives add to this.
Land reform has offered a space for independence and potential freedom, but this may not be realised if violent and abusive husbands, co-wives or other relatives exist. Navigating these relationships affects how both production and social reproduction tasks are approached and balanced. While cooperative, supportive relationships exist, the opposite is also experienced. Cultural norms around marriage, divorce, separation and living as a single woman therefore have a major impact on what is possible for whom.
This is the fifth blog in the series on social reproduction and land reform. This blog was written by Sandra Bhatasara and Ian Scoones, with inputs from Tapiwa Chatikobo and Felix Murimbarimba. It was first published on Zimbabweland.