Care for children, the sick, infirm and dying is at the core of social reproductive labour, very often carried out by women. In our interviews in A1 land reform areas, women frequently emphasised the caring roles of children, sick relatives, and so on. This had major impacts on their lives, practically and emotionally, causing stress and anxiety as they sought different types of treatment from diverse sources. The costs of treatment, travel, and time away from farming meant income suffered, sometimes leading to businesses closing or harvests being missed.
Nearly every interview had one or more examples of a caring role being taken on in the last few years, sometimes over very extended periods. The emotional toll of looking after a loved one, and then them ultimately passing, was significant for many, marking a significant period when other concerns with agricultural production became less significant in people’s lives. The labour of care, along with the emotional investment in caring, often goes unnoticed, rarely discussed in studies of agriculture and land reform. It happens quietly behind closed doors at home, or away at hospitals and clinics. But these periods are significant in people’s lives, shaping what is possible more widely. Care is not limited to reproductive care duties but intertwined with farm production and community work. The highly gendered labour of care as a central part of social reproductive work, therefore, needs much greater attention in discussions of land reform outcomes.
Caring in times of sickness
FB from Mvurwi reflected on how she had to invest in the support of her sisters when they were sick, and subsequently the children of one of them after she died.
It was a tough time when my siblings were sick in 2022. I had to help financially, and all the money went towards medicines. I used to help cut gumtrees for sale to make money, and I used that money to pay for my sister’s treatment. One of my sisters had a husband, but he was useless and often drunk. Since my sister died, I now take care of her children in Centenary, where they stay with their grandmother.
MM from Mvurwi commented on how caring took away from farming, and used up resources:
I had a setback when my mother was sick, and I had to send money home, but she eventually passed on. When all this happened, I had already sold my tobacco; sometimes bad luck happens, and we must divert funds. A relative who stays close to here also got sick and almost died this year. I used to go and visit him to the point that I had to take him to the hospital for treatment. He was my mother’s son, my brother, so I got him treatment, and he got better.
NA, also from Mvurwi, was a carer for several years, which affected her nascent business:
My mother was sick for two years. I took care of her when she was not well. I was living with her here until she passed on. We used to take her to the hospital, and my father would send money; I would assist financially whenever I could. I was the one accompanying her to the hospital in Harare, it was tough times when she was sick. We had a tuck shop that went out of business because the money from it was used to take care of her. As a result, we were not able to restock. I also struggled to produce anything on the farm during that time because of constant travel to try to get treatment for my mother.
Mr M’s wives from Masvingo district reflected on the challenges of looking after their husband when he was sick:
While he was not well, our lives and work in the field were disrupted, especially financially, as the money that was there had to be used for his treatment and X-rays. We also help our relatives with finances in case of health issues. If we have money, we go and see our father-in-law when he is sick, then come back; we do not nurse him.
In the same way, a number of other informants commented on the impacts of ill-health in the family:
When there are health issues in the family, it can get expensive and affect work in the field, as you will need to give proper attention to the sick person. My mother used to get sick, and the young boy I stay with is currently sick and needs money for the hospital every month. (SZ, Mvurwi)
We used to stay with both our in-laws here when they got sick and subsequently died. I used to take care of them when they were sick, but their relatives were fully involved, assisting with medicine and hospital bills. They died here, but they were buried at their homestead. (Mai M, Gutu).
Mai M from Masvingo district has been struggling with an undiagnosed chronic sickness in an adopted son, causing stress and worry:
I have taken care of sick people, for instance, when my son was coming from work, he had stopped talking. He is not my biological son; he is my brother’s son, but I have raised him since he was young, when his parents passed on. It really broke my heart; we are busy trying to get him treated. He is 22 and not yet married. We tried to get consultations the traditional way, but we still do not know what the problem is. We thought that maybe it was drug abuse, but it was not. He has been sick for three months now, and we did not go to the hospital because we believe it’s a spiritual issue.
My husband got sick in December 2008. I used to take him to the hospital in Bulawayo, and then he was admitted to Maphisa. He got better and was discharged and sent home. He was told to stop drinking, but he never stopped. I do not know how the alcohol affected him; he was re-admitted at Maphisa and then passed on in August 2009. My husband sold one cow to cover his medical bills. I was the one taking care of him in Maphisa, and I hired someone to look after the children while I was away. My child, who is deaf, is better now, but it was a struggle when she was young. Now she can do all chores on her own: cook, do laundry, and bathe herself. When she was younger, she used to get sick a lot and get admitted multiple times. There was also an orphan child. I took care of her until she had her own child, but she got sick and died. It’s good that I have family here with me, and people do not do as they please because my sons are here (SM, Matobo district).
One of my sons, the lastborn, once got really sick. His hand started hurting, and his skin began peeling, leaving him with no flesh. We took him to the hospital, but they couldn’t help him. He got better in Nkayi, where he got help; he got sick for almost half a year. I had to go to the bank for a loan. I took 5000 in a loan because Mpilo Hospital needed money. I took him to a prophet in Nkayi, where he managed to get help. He came back recently from Nkayi. When my husband was sick, I took care of him for a year before he passed away, back then it was better because medical bills were not that expensive. I also look after the children when they’re sick because their mothers are not working. (BN, Matobo district).
Seeking out treatment can be challenging. Different options – from hospitals to prophets to traditional healers offer different options, but they all cost money. A number of different institutions are relied on, often in sequence, but in the end, drawing on support from the family and wider community is important. JZ from Mvurwi commented on what happens if people in her family get sick:
When we get sick, we go to the hospital; if it fails, we go to prophets, and if that fails, we consult traditional healers. We do attend church activities, whether it’s church or weddings, but you only go where you’re invited. Unity in the community is important; we hope it continues, as we all need each other. For instance, when there are funerals, we all show up in different ways to ensure that everything goes well.
Multiple demands on time: juggling childcare and farming
In discussions, women frequently commented on the challenges of combining childcare with farming and the multiple demands on their time. In the land reform areas, farming requires more labour – there are larger areas, and often labour-intensive activities associated with irrigation, tobacco production, and so on. As Mrs C from Mvurwi commented:
It was difficult to balance childcare and farming. If the child gets sick while you’re working on the farm, you abandon work and get help for the child. I then focus on the child until they’re better before I go back to work. I did not have much assistance with house chores because the girls were still young. I would wake up very early and start preparing food for the children and for them to go to school, then start preparing for those already on the farm before I join them in working. I always made sure to collect water in the morning when I woke, so I left the house with enough water to use in the evening. Life became easy when my oldest daughter was in grade 3; she could now do basic house chores. My oldest son knew how to do house chores, but they were needed in the field, so we had to rely more on my daughter. Since all my children have left the house, I take care of two of my relatives’ children who passed on. I don’t have hired help; I still wake up early and do the housework before going to work in the fields.
Mrs C relies on her extended family to help:
My daughters-in-law do assist at the farm, but they don’t help with household chores; they have their own homes. When there is a sick person, though, they do come to see the sick and help us on the way forward with treatment. Sickness is part of life; it’s easier when you’re united, and you’re able to deliberate and come up with solutions. If it is needed, you should be able to contribute with others and pay hospital bills.
Networks of care: support in old age
As people age, children grow up and move away, and maybe one parent becomes ill or dies, the need for support from others increases. Networks of care connecting children – sometimes in far-flung places in the diaspora – and parents in the land reform areas are vital. Care may be through financing medicines, or as simple as keeping in touch by phone. Mai M from Gutu district reflected on the importance of family connections in old age:
My children still look after me even when they’re far. They call constantly to check on me, and when they can’t reach me, they find ways to ensure they hear my voice. My daughter-in-law is the one staying with me since I have issues with my leg. During the holidays, my oldest granddaughter comes, and on big holidays, my children all come here to celebrate with everyone.
In the same way, Mrs M, also from Gutu district, relies on her children, while also looking after them. Family cohesion is frequently mentioned in interviews as essential for caring support:
I was sick in July, my children are the ones who were paying for my treatment, and I even went to Murehwa for care at private hospitals. My children are taking care of me, so I cannot complain. I used to take care of my son when he was sick; his wife was helping, too, while my second-born was financially assisting. My father-in-law also came back here in 2014 when he was sick. I cared for him from August until he passed away at Gutu Hospital in September.
Looking after a home is hard work, especially for ageing women with younger grandchildren around, but the wider family care network is essential, as now widowed Mrs M explained:
Life was easier when my husband was around; it’s hard raising a family on my own. Here I stay with my grandchildren and my two boys, you see here. It’s not wise to stay alone these days because there are so many viruses going around; you can just get sick and die. I was once very sick and could not do anything; all my children had to come here to look after me, even the married ones. My son in South Africa used to send money. If you just called him and told him I was unwell, he would send money. My daughters also send money whenever it’s needed.
Some people do not have relatives to support them or prefer not to ask them, but have resources to hire help for looking after the home, with people coming to live in the role of caretakers, incorporating them into the family in the absence of others, as Mai N from Gutu district explained:
I have help from the couple here. I pay them to take care of the place even when I am away. I pay them in cash, and I also give them maize to take home after harvest. They have been living here for 2 years and are originally from Buhera. I had a different caretaker before the current one, who lived here for five years. The current caretakers are our relatives. I treat the caretakers like they’re my children, so we cook together and live as one family.
Reciprocity and community care
Care extends beyond the domestic spaces. Women have been historically well known for taking care of the environment and participating in collective community care practices such as income savings schemes and labour pooling. In Gutu, reciprocal and rotational labour networks were noted in several interviews in A1 farms. This collective care sustains households that struggle with income and labour constraints.
Mai MH in Gutu explained “We didn’t have anything to help with farming; we had only one cow and a calf. We used the little we had to farm; we made ridges and pulled the plough while I had my child on my back. We managed to harvest well, the following year we collaborated with Mai Makumbe, she had cattle but did not have a plough, so we would work on my field and then move to hers until we were done”.
Mai M from A1 self-contained plot in Gutu noted that, “Some of the challenges we have had is drought due to limited rainfall and shortage of money. We now do savings clubs but we started them recently. We contribute $1 per week; we are about 20 people and involve buying blankets and then my daughter in-law is in the $4 one which has almost 40 people. We share money after six months; you basically get back what you would have been contributing after six months”
Caring labour is frequently demanding, falling on individuals, mostly women, but, as many commented, drawing on community and family networks of care and support is essential. This makes investing in social relations so important as a route to mutual aid and collective solidarity at times of difficulty. Understanding these social relations that constitute the labour of care is essential when understanding the transformation of land reform areas in Zimbabwe. Such networks may be hidden, mobilised only at certain times, but caring labour is fundamental to how social reproduction shapes the possibilities of success for different people in land reform settings.
This is the sixth 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.