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INTRODUCTION
Formal land delivery systems throughout sub-Saharan Africa have generally failed to keep up with the demand of rapidly increasing urban populations, and as a result, urban residents have had to rely on a variety of creative mechanisms and relationships to attain access to land for housing and other livelihood uses. Land tenure in the cities of sub-Saharan Africa has been a subject of great interest to scholars, development actors and governments trying to reconcile static, colonial-style planning models with the various ways of viewing land and land-ownership in the region (Bruce Reference Bruce2000; Coldham Reference Coldham1995; Ikejiofor Reference Ikejiofor2006; Kironde Reference Kironde1995; Leduka Reference Leduka2006; Nkurunziza Reference Nkurunziza2007; Payne Reference Payne2004). Much of this work discusses land tenure through the framework of formal and informal rights to land, mechanisms for gaining those rights, and obstacles to both formal and informal mechanisms. However, almost all of this literature has focused on land tenure for housing, neglecting another important land use in African cities: urban agriculture. Open-space urban crop cultivation, one form of urban agriculture, is widespread throughout the region and millions of people depend on the products from these plots for both income and nutrition, despite constant difficulties of gaining access to land (Ezedinma & Comfort Reference Ezedinma and Comfort1999; Mlozi Reference Mlozi and Stromquist1994). In many cities open-space farmingFootnote 1 is either legally ambiguous or outright illegal, yet this widely visible practice continues to thrive, primarily on land that is not designated for urban agriculture.
This paper examines how access to land is attained and maintained by urban open-space farmers in Dar es Salaam, and the mutually beneficial relationship between urban farmers and the people who hold the tenure rights to the land on which they farm. The focus here is specifically on access, rather than tenure, so as to highlight various benefits that accrue to actors in the relationships between open-space farmers and landowners, rather than on informal or formal tenure to the land that generally focuses on a narrow set of benefits accrued by people with tenure rights (Ribot & Peluso Reference Ribot and Peluso2003). Open-space farming refers to agricultural activities that take place in the urban built-up environment on land that is either public or private, and that remains undeveloped. Examples of this land include hazardous lands, road or railway reserves, and land unsuitable for construction under power lines or in river valleys. Such cultivation should be distinguished from peri-urban farming, which takes place in areas technically inside the city, but on land that has not been surveyed or zoned, and on which population density is very low. Generally, much larger farms are found in the peri-urban area with a much wider variety of crops. Cultivation in open spaces is generally for commercial vegetable production, consists of anywhere between about ten to a couple hundred small plots, each only of a few square metres (Dongus et al. Reference Dongus2009). Open-space farming differs from home gardens because several farmers work at one farm, and each farmer has several plots, often depending on the number of years he or she has spent farming in that area. In Dar es Salaam, open-space cultivation occurs throughout the city in river valleys, on police land, on school properties, on road reserves, under power lines, on private company land and on university land. While open-space urban cultivation is legal at the national level (URT 1997), no place has yet been designated or zoned in Dar es Salaam for the practice. This means that companies and some government entities are allowing urban agriculture on their land in violation of city laws.
There are several important differences between open-space farming and housing that warrant an examination of land access specifically for farmers. First, while informal housing is technically illegal, the addition of one house or family to land already used for informal housing makes little difference visually to authorities. However, open-space farms are highly visible along roadsides, in river valleys that run through the middle of cities, and in other unused spaces in the urban environment. Being much more visible places farmers in open spaces at much higher risk of harassment or criticism. Second, while housing is certainly seen as a legitimate function of cities, planners and even the public often question the validity of farming in the city. Farms are seen as a waste of space, a loss of tax revenue, as polluting the urban environment with chemicals, and as a harmful way to grow vegetables and other foodstuffs because the urban environment is itself polluted. Third, because of the amount of space needed to farm, farmers must make agreements with large landholders,Footnote 2 generally much more powerful figures in the city, rather than on land that is unplanned or controlled by less powerful individuals.
While much of the literature on housing in cities focuses on land tenure, with regard to urban agriculture a focus on tenure limits our ability to understand the dynamic relationships between legal landowners and urban farmers who use the land. Focusing instead on access reveals the benefits provided to both landowner and farmer. Land access is the ability to derive benefits from land, whether economic, social or personal. The concept of access, as opposed to property or tenure rights, allows us to examine who actually benefits from land and what processes allow stakeholders to obtain those benefits (Ribot & Peluso Reference Ribot and Peluso2003). A focus on access reveals the ability of people to benefit as opposed to their right to benefit. The ability to benefit from that land depends on the relationships of power that govern access to the land (Ikejiofor Reference Ikejiofor2006; Nkurunziza Reference Nkurunziza2007). Landowners, just like farmers, obtain economic and social benefits from allowing farmers on the land. Other actors, including the state, can also benefit from this arrangement. This framework allows a more nuanced approach to understanding the benefits accruing to different actors from having urban land under cultivation.
Research examining land delivery processes in African cities has focused on the informal networks and processes that underlie people's access to land, often on how informal institutions regulate land delivery. In places where there are community bonds, the method of land delivery can be quite formalised and mimic official processes, including obtaining information on plot availability, negotiating the land transaction with a recognised group of community leaders, demarcating plots and creating documentary evidence of land rights, which can sometimes be recognised by the city (Bruce Reference Bruce2000; Nkurunziza Reference Nkurunziza2007: 514–23). Trust is a vital component in many land transactions in cities (Ikejiofor Reference Ikejiofor2006). At the edge of a city, where informal expansion begins to encroach on peri-urban land, the local community may begin to break down as more strangers enter looking to buy land, and people may begin to act as individuals rather than a group in land transactions, leading to a breakdown in trust between members of the community (Briggs & Mwamfupe Reference Briggs and Mwamfupe2000; Strasberg & Kloeck-Jenson Reference Strasberg and Kloeck-Jenson2002). In both the built-up areas and in the peri-urban fringe, land that sits idle may simply be co-opted by people looking for space to build houses or plant gardens. Sometimes these claims are enforced by the community, and the person with legal tenure cannot even physically access their land (Kironde Reference Kironde1997, Reference Kironde2006). As many observers have noted, tenure security is not just a matter of legal or illegal, formal or informal, status; ‘security’ is a relative concept and a matter of perception as well as law (Payne et al. Reference Payne, Durand-Lasserve and Rakodi2009). It has as much to do with social relationships over time. Land delivery is not just a moment of agreement. An individual's security of tenure must be recognised through time by other possible claimants and by the surrounding community.
However, in the discussions of land delivery and land tenure mentioned above, the focus is on a one-way relationship, one that secures land for an individual or group through a variety of locally acceptable means. The terms access and tenure are often used interchangeably, but are rarely defined. This paper uses the concept of access forwarded by Ribot and Peluso (Reference Ribot and Peluso2003: 153) to distinguish between access as ‘the ability to benefit from things’ and property as the right to benefit from things. Rather than focus on the process of gaining tenure and how tenure provides legally or socially protected rights, a focus on access allows us to examine how multiple actors and stakeholders can derive benefits from a resource (ibid.; Sikor Reference Sikor2006). Social relationships, and the uneven power distributed through them, are important in this analysis. Powerful actors rarely provide access to a resource without some benefit to themselves. Often this benefit is analysed economically, but an economic lens restricts our ability to see the complexity of the relationships between actors.
This framework illustrates that property or tenure agreements are but one form of access. An analysis through the lens of access focuses on webs of social power to reveal that not only do people use a variety of methods to derive benefits from a resource such as land, but that granting that access is motivated by perceived benefits to the grantor as well as to the claimants. An individual or institution that grants access to open space farmers then has the ability to procure benefits from having that land put to some use.
The next section of this paper provides a brief background on urban agriculture in Dar es Salaam. This contextualises the legal issues and popular concerns surrounding the practice, and provides a brief summary of the economic and demographic characteristics of open-space farmers in this city. After an overview of the methods used in this project, I then present four case studies from open space farms throughout the city. Each of these open-space farms has a unique history and method of gaining access to land to engage in open-space cultivation. The benefits of access, and of allowing access, are discussed for each farming group, and for the entities that control that land. The paper concludes with a summary and discussion of how access to land in cities for urban agriculture, an important land use in African cities, reveals a wider understanding of the benefits derived from the practice than a focus on tenure rights would generally allow. The implications for cities attempting to incorporate urban agriculture into planning frameworks conclude the paper.
THE HISTORICAL CONTEXT OF LAND ACCESS FOR URBAN FARMERS IN DAR ES SALAAM
During the British colonial period in Tanzania, agriculture was limited in cities. The practice was allowed, but regulations limited the types of crops that could be grown and who could grow them (Mlozi Reference Mlozi2003). In 1928, British colonial authorities enacted the first by-laws on urban agriculture, which had three main objectives: prohibiting people of African descent from growing crops and raising livestock in cities; preventing the growing of crops taller than one metre in height (specifically excluding maize from production) to discourage the formation of malaria-causing mosquito habitat; and maintaining a clean urban environment and urban aesthetic by preventing indigenous Africans from growing crops and raising livestock in the open spaces of towns (Foeken Reference Foeken2005). These by-laws meant that Africans who wanted to grow extra crops had few options to do so as their home plot sizes were very small – a reflection of British colonial systems of urban planning that were closely linked to systems of racial segregation (Mougeot Reference Mougeot1994; Myers Reference Myers2003a, Reference Myers2003b; Smiley Reference Smiley2010). These planning models were premised on colonial ideals of racial difference: what the British thought were the natural needs and living conditions of various races (Smiley Reference Smiley2010). As a result, people of African descent often had very small plots, making it difficult to practice urban agriculture or livestock-keeping. Instead they illegally planted in open spaces or had farms outside the urban areas.
At independence in 1961, the laws prohibiting urban agriculture were ignored, and people were able to practice agriculture with greater freedom in cities (Mlozi Reference Mlozi2003). As the development priorities of the state throughout the 1970s turned towards rural self-sufficiency and development, farmers in the city were largely ignored (Conway Reference Conway2006). As the African socialism programmes implemented by the first president Julius Nyerere failed in the face of economic decline in the late 1970s, Tanzania experienced rapid and sustained rural to urban migration (Myers Reference Myers2005; Ojalammi Reference Ojalammi2006). Rapid economic decline following the global recession in the late 1970s, a war with Uganda to depose Idi Amin in 1979, and the implementation of structural adjustment programmes in the early 1980s, led to a re-emphasis on the highest and best use of urban land to attract investments and to the loss of the training and subsidies for urban farms that had previously existed (Chachage & Chachage Reference Chachage and Chachage2005; Mougeot Reference Mougeot1994). Development in agriculture became primarily focused on rural areas, where the government emphasised large-scale commercial production of export products such as tea, coffee, cotton and sisal (Maxwell Reference Maxwell1996). The economic restructuring imposed by the International Monetary Fund that swept across the continent in the 1980s and 1990s, and the subsequent failure of these policies, contributed to a steep rise in unemployment and informal sector employment across the country (Briggs Reference Briggs1991; Briggs & Mwamfupe Reference Briggs and Mwamfupe2000; Kironde Reference Kironde1995; Mlozi Reference Mlozi and Stromquist1994). People began moving to cities to look for work, but unemployment continued to rise as jobs disappeared as a result of privatisation.
Despite this lack of official support through land designation and extension services, Dar es Salaam, like many cities throughout the region, implicitly supported urban agriculture, though farmers were subject to periodic harassment by officials and police (Mlozi Reference Mlozi and Stromquist1994). In 2000, the Ministry of Lands and Human Settlement Development formally incorporated urban agriculture into zoning guidelines, making Tanzania one of only a few countries in Africa to legalise the practice (Hoogland Reference Hoogland2003; Mlozi Reference Mlozi2003; URT 2000). The policy states that the government needs to designate specific areas where people will be granted legal rights to engage in urban agriculture in a way that does not interrupt planned urban development. It also calls for infrastructure to mitigate environmental problems that influence or are caused by urban agriculture (URT 2000: 48). To date, however, none of these conditions have been met (and only recently have they been addressed). While urban agriculture was formally incorporated into the zoning framework, no space has yet been designated and the practice remains effectively illegal.
Several studies in the 1990s and early 2000s revealed just how widespread the practice was. As of 1999 (the last time an analysis was completed) about 650 hectares of land were used for open-space farming (Dongus Reference Dongus2001). The same study revealed that over time land is lost and other land claimed for farming, showing the variability of the practice in the urban landscape. As part of the Urban Vegetable Promotion Project in the mid 1990s, researchers estimated that about 50% of the leafy green vegetables consumed in the city came from open-space production (Jacobi Reference Jacobi1997). The same project revealed that the average open-space farmer made about 22,000TSh (US$38) per month.Footnote 3 For open-space farmers, urban crop production is often the primary source of income for a family, and if they have the ability to market directly to consumers rather than through middlemen, they usually receive a higher income (Kiango & Likoko Reference Kiango and Likoko1996).
However, with the recent global economic crisis and the increases in the cost of food, planners are beginning to recognise the importance of agriculture in the city. After the annual Farmers Day celebrations on 8 August 2010, the Regional Commissioner of Arusha, a city in the northern part of the country, called on urban planners throughout the country to set aside land for urban agricultural activities (Daily News: Online Edition 2010). As the city of Dar es Salaam commences work on a new Master Plan in 2011, defenders of urban open-space farming are lobbying for planners to set aside land for farmers in order to provide secure land tenure for the people the city relies upon to provide fresh vegetables every day. At the time of writing, a strong group of stakeholders, including farmers, agriculture extension agents, ministry officials and planners, are working with the Dar es Salaam City Council to come up with guidelines to determine land that would be suitable for urban farming.
Even though farms are technically illegal, open-space farms of a couple of acres to many hectares are in constant operation throughout the city, and they are an important component of everyday urban life. Farm produce is often sold to traders, who then sell it to vendors in the city markets. Many people also go directly to the farms to buy their vegetables straight from the plot, often watching the farmer harvest the vegetables they pay for. These farms are very visible on roadsides and often serve as important landmarks for navigating through the city. Despite their legally ambiguous activities, farmers as groups have been able to gain access to lands for farming through a variety of creative mechanisms. Several agreements with formal institutions have provided at least temporary land use for open-space farmers. However, without exception, all of the farmers are acutely aware that they are at risk of being evicted at the whim of the institution controlling the land.
In Dar es Salaam, open-space farming is primarily for commercial production. In contrast, home gardens, dominated by women and usually on isolated plots near a person's home, are primarily for subsistence production. While open-space farmers supplement their household diet with the vegetables they grow, their main motivation is to sell their crops to gain income for other needs, such as other foods, electricity, school fees or transport (Sawio Reference Sawio, Egziabher, Lee-Smith, Maxwell, Memon, Mougeot and Sawio1994). Open-space farming is primarily conducted by men, though many farmers claim that the number of women is increasing, and on some farms women outnumber men. Open-space farming also employs people from very poor backgrounds to people with middle-class lifestyles. Depending on the season, a farmer with many plots can make several hundred thousand shillings (the equivalent of several hundred dollars) a month. In a country where the minimum monthly wage for civil servants is 135,000Tsh (US$91) (Nyakeke & Kimboy Reference Nyakeke and Kimboy2010), which is not enough to meet the living expenses of many people, this is a good income to have. This is not, however, the norm. Many farmers can barely sell enough food each day to make ends meet, especially during the dry season when water is scarce, or during Ramadan when people in the city are buying less food.
Contrary to popular belief, people who engage in open-space cultivation are not recent migrants to the city (Rakodi Reference Rakodi1988). Indeed, they are usually people who have tried their hand at various jobs and found that they could not survive on the meagre income they received, and turned to farming for a more stable supply of money and food. More important, however, people need time to establish the necessary social connections to secure a space within an open plot (Foeken et al. Reference Foeken, Sofer and Mlozi2004; Maxwell Reference Maxwell1995; Mlozi Reference Mlozi1997; Mougeot Reference Mougeot1994; Sanyal Reference Sanyal1985; Sawio Reference Sawio, Egziabher, Lee-Smith, Maxwell, Memon, Mougeot and Sawio1994). Most of the farmers interviewed in this project gained access to plots through family members, connections from the village who were already farmers, or because their daily activities brought them through the farms where they were able to develop relationships with farmers over time. Urban administrators, however, continue to see urban agriculture as a practice of poor, recent rural migrants. City administrators commonly frame farms as a temporary measure practiced only in times of economic distress (Obia Reference Obia1992). Framing urban farming as an activity of distress, or someone falling back onto rural roots, only serves to make it easier to ignore the practice as a valid activity in cities, an exception to the city rather than a part of the city.
The main products grown in the open spaces of Dar es Salaam are leafy green vegetables: Chinese cabbage, figiri (Swiss chard), maboga (pumpkin leaves), matembele (potato leaves), and sukuma wiki (collard greens). However, open spaces are dominated by mchicha (amaranthus sp.), a type of spinach that is important in local cuisine (Dongus et al. Reference Dongus2009; Sawio Reference Sawio, Egziabher, Lee-Smith, Maxwell, Memon, Mougeot and Sawio1994). The value of mchicha varies considerably throughout the year. Towards the end of the rainy seasons and a few months after, people in the city can grow mchicha on any open space, and farmers are unable to sell all of their produce. However, during the driest parts of the year and the beginning of the rains, mchicha is more difficult to grow, and open-space farmers can charge more and make more money from the vital plant.
Despite the increasing success of urban farms and the relative stability of urban farming as an income source, insecure land tenure lies at the heart of many of the troubles farmers face in the city, and is often cited as the main reason why they are unable to improve their farming practices. The government fund for development of agriculture will not provide money to farmers with insecure tenure because they cannot guarantee the farmers will be there for a definite amount of time, meaning that the investment could be wasted (Ilala Boma int.). Farmers throughout the city experience water problems: from scarcity in dry periods to excess during the rainy season in low-lying areas. Pollution from untreated wastewater is also a serious problem on farms near rivers. When the rivers flood, they spread untreated water over the farms and contaminate wells. Without secure land tenure, farmers cannot invest their own money in digging deeper wells that can be sealed, or permanent drainage systems that do not have to be re-dug each time it rains.
FARMS AND ACCESS: FOUR FARMS IN DAR ES SALAAM
The field research for this case study was part of a larger project carried out during seven months in Dar es Salaam between May and November 2010. The data presented here are derived from data collected from four open-space farms in the city: Tazara-Mchicha, Msimbazi Valley, Wakulima wa Mboga-Temeke (WAMTE) and the Drive-In Group. Tazara-Mchicha and Msimbazi Valley farmers are located in the municipality of Ilala,Footnote 4 WAMTE is in Temeke, and the Drive-In Group is in Kinondoni. These four groups were selected from a larger case study on urban agriculture and urban spaces because they represent the three municipalities of the city, and a diverse range of groups with regard to group cohesion, farming practices, land tenure and demographics. The data presented here are derived from semi-structured interviews with farmers, agriculture agents and planners, in addition to data on land-ownership history provided by the Ministry of Lands and Human Settlements Development. The following sections discuss the four farms, the history of their use as farms, the various agreements they have with legal land holders, and how these impact their use of the land for agriculture. In each case, I show how various actors can derive benefits from the land. This analysis could include a wider range of actors benefitting from the farms, including people who walk around selling tea and food who find ready customers on the farms, or who sell seeds or farming implements. For the sake of simplicity, I focus on the farmers, the government, and the legal land holders.
The location of the four case study farms in Dar es Salaam. Farms are not shown to scale for the purpose of illustration.
Wakulima wa Maboga Temeke (WAMTE)
The vegetable farmers of Temeke are located near the municipal offices of Temeke in an industrial area of the city. The land of about 3.7 hectares occupies a shallow valley that easily floods during rains. The land is also adjacent to a large Christian cemetery and the main police station for the municipality; a few police officers even have plots on the farm. All of the farmers belong to an informal group of fifty-five people, of whom only two are women. The group's main purpose is first and foremost to find a place to farm where its members have secure land tenure, and to access funding to develop their farming techniques. The farm has around 150 plots that are unevenly distributed between farmers. Generally the number of plots that a farmer has is related to the amount of time he has been practicing at the farm, and the availability of plots when that particular farmer arrived. Some farmers have over thirty plots, while some have only a few, which certainly impacts their ability to profit from urban farming.
The area of the WAMTE farm was left unclaimed by any government or private entity for several decades after independence in 1961. During this time, women of the Zamoro tribe, a group that has historically been located near the original settlements of the city, were planting rice on the plot. Because the area lies in a shallow depression, and the water table is but a metre or two below the surface for most of the year, the area flooded easily during the rains, making it ideal for rice cultivation. In the 1990s, many of these women began to leave farm-work, mainly because they were finding the work more difficult as they got older. At the same time, vegetable farmers from Basila, another farm nearby, were moving over because the Basila land had been bought by an investor who had forcibly removed them from the land. Many of these farmers began asking the Zamoro women if they could plant vegetables along the edges of the farm in areas not flooded by rains. Gradually more farmers arrived, and more of the Zamoro women left. Individual farmers established relationships with the Zamoro women, so that as the women left, they turned their area over to the new vegetable farmers. These farmers gradually removed the vegetation from the area, allowing water to run off and the soil to drain, making it more suitable for vegetable cultivation.
Several people noticed that the farmers’ activities were ‘improving’ the land. First, by removing tall vegetation that could hide thieves,Footnote 5 people felt the area was safer to walk through. Second, allowing the water to drain off made the area more suitable for development. Indeed, an outside investor saw the improvements of the new vegetable farmers, and began making inquiries about purchasing rights to the land. He had an offer to purchase, but uncertainty existed as to who actually held rights to the land. The farmers became caught in the middle of a conflict between the municipality of Temeke and the Temeke police station, who both claimed that the land belonged to them. After some legal wrangling by both claimants, the police station successfully established their claim. However, they offered the land to the investor for double his original bid and his interest faded. The police station, to establish their territory, built a barbed-wire fence around the perimeter of the surveyed plot. The fence remains and contains most of the small plots, although some plots exist just beyond the perimeter near the roadsides and the cemetery.
When the farmers were questioned about their access to land and the relationship with the police station, they all showed concern about their insecurity of land access. The police in Tanzania do not have a reputation for being even-handed or fair. The farmers all insisted, however, that the relationship with the police was positive and beneficial, although further questioning revealed that the relationship also had to be positive for the police. If the farmers complained about the police, they felt that they would probably lose their access to the land, and the income necessary to their families’ survival. Indeed, there were rumours that the police planned to expand their offices into the farming area, though these seem for now to be intended more to keep the farmers in line than as actual plans.
However, there are benefits for the farmers from being adjacent to police land. Theft on farms is very common, especially in seasons when vegetables are scarce in the city, but monitoring it is difficult. When the farmers are able to catch the thieves, they have strong connections with the police that allow them to hand the person over. The proximity to the police station can serve as a deterrent to theft, though this only underscores the need for the farmers to maintain a good relationship with the police. WAMTE's access to land is tenuous, even though they have been using the land for a little over ten years. Their arrangement with the police station is entirely dependent upon the ‘goodwill’ of the chief of police of the Temeke district (WAMTE group leader int.). Their ability to maintain good relations, at least on the surface, is vital for the continued access to the land they depend on for their livelihoods.
The police also benefit from allowing the farmers to use their land. Most importantly, the farmers’ continued presence keeps the land dry because they maintain the environment, especially by keeping it drained to reduce standing water. This makes land more suitable for future building projects they may have and reduces the labour needed to clear and drain the land. The nicely organised and drained land also makes it more attractive to potential investors. Should the police decide to sell the land, its economic value will have been enhanced by the farmers’ activities. Their ability to benefit, however, is due to their power not only as landowners, but as police with corrupt reputations that keep the farmers from complaining or even questioning them on their long-term goals.
Msimbazi Valley
The Msimbazi River is the main waterway through the city of Dar es Salaam, and the valley it creates runs slightly south of west if you follow it inland from the Indian Ocean. Three thousand farmers engage in urban farming in this valley. The area in this case study is to the east of Kawawa Road, one of the few main thoroughfares to run north-south in the city. The valley is surrounded by informal settlements literally squeezing the valley from the sides. Annual flooding keeps people from building in the valley floor itself, which is also a hindrance to any commercial or industrial development. This entire valley is by far the largest open space farm in the built-up area of the city.
The group in this case study consisted of fifty-five farmers, about ten of whom were women. In the 1960s the area consisted only of brush with a path that led people to Kariakoo Market. Julius Nyerere, the first president of Tanzania, handed this land over to Zaramo women to cultivate rice paddy. The women cleared the land, which was notorious for having large snakes and thieves, who would wait for people as they walked to the market. They cultivated for a number of years until the early 1980s when Nyerere's presidency ended. A company claimed the land and told the women that they needed to go farther upstream if they wanted to continue paddy cultivation, and the area near Kawawa Road was turned into a palm wine plantation. In the late 1980s the land was reclaimed by the ruling party of Tanzania, Chama cha Mapinduzi (party of the revolution, or CCM). The land was managed and controlled by the business arm of the CCM, Shirika la Uchumi na Kilimo Tanzania (corporation of economics and agriculture of Tanzania, or SUKITA), which began managing the land. It took down many of the palm trees, but left several standing and hired local youths to continue to manage the trees, including climbing them to cut off the coconuts that hinder the creation of palm wine, and tapping at the top of the tree, where new fronds emerge, to collect the liquid.
The legacies of all these land-ownerships are still evident today. A few Zamoro women switched to vegetable gardening when they were told to stop rice cultivation. When the land was drained for the palm trees, several people, including the Zaramo women, were hired to clean up the debris created by the trees. Those workers asked the company and then SUKITA if they could plant small vegetable plots around the palm trees. They were allowed to do so and to this day, part of the agreement for the farmers to remain on the land is that they keep the area clean from palm tree debris. The main concern in the valley is over access to clean water. The Msimbazi river is highly polluted from industrial waste, a product of a complete lack of enforceable environmental regulations, and from untreated sewage and solid waste from the densely packed informal settlements immediately adjacent to it (Mwegoha & Kihampa Reference Mwegoha and Kihampa2010). The farmers have been ordered not to use the river water, and have a series of wells linked to small troughs that bring water close to farmers and reduce the distance they need to carry their heavy loads of water.
The SUKITA corporation has access to several benefits from the farming activities. Because there is little potential for development of the land due to flooding during the rainy seasons, the value of the land does not primarily lie in maintaining it for future sale. Instead, the farmers maintain the land to reduce the ground litter on the palm plantation, such as falling fronds and coconuts. Further, having farmers constantly present means more security for the valuable crops of palm wine. The farmers know the local youth employed to climb the trees and tap for wine, and would be sure to chase off anyone who did not work for the company.
At the time of initial interviews, Msimbazi farmers were the least concerned in this study about land tenure. However, throughout 2010 several articles were published in the local newspapers about the dangers of eating produce grown in the valley. A study by the Ardhi Institute claimed that not only was the water high in heavy metals, but that the soil and even the vegetables themselves carry toxic loads of lead, chromium and zinc (Mwehoga and Kihampa Reference Mwegoha and Kihampa2010). One newspaper article in English was entitled: ‘Death lurks in that plate of vegetables: public in grave danger as experts warn of toxic greens on sale’ (Kalokola Reference Kalokola2010). This was the first of several articles highlighting the pollution problems at the Msimbazi farms. The farmers, however, claim to rarely use the water from the river, as it is fairly obvious that it is dangerous both to their crops and to themselves (Msimbazi farmer int.). In the months that followed pressure increased on the city, and the agricultural extension office in the district of Ialala specifically, to close down the farms at Msimbazi. On follow-up visits in August of 2010, several farmers told me that agriculture agents had been coming around to tell them to stop farming, and this is the official policy of the office. However, the agents are fully aware that people depend on this activity for food and will not stop. In September 2010, I was riding by on a local minibus and saw police harassing and beating several farmers who had been pulled out of the valley. The area of the city with the most secure tenure, the best land, the ideal location where no building could occur, and where a mutually beneficial relationship with the landowners had assured them of their access for years to come, is now in danger of constant harassment by police and government officials due to environmental problems created elsewhere.
Tazara-Mchicha farmers
The Tanzania-Zambian railway company, Tazara, has its main station and repair yards off Nyerere Road on the way to the airport from the city centre. The area along Nyerere Road consists primarily of large industrial plants and factories. The land that the farmers cultivate is owned by the railway company and follows a shallow valley formed by a drainage stream. They occupy a strip of land running away from Nyerere Road, comprising about seventy acres. There are approximately forty farmers in the group that cultivates nearest Nyerere Road, about three quarters of whom are male. In the dry season when water is a limiting factor on crop growth, only about twenty farmers are able to cultivate in the area.
In the early 1980s, a few people wanted to grow some crops on the land adjacent to the railway repair yards. They approached Tazara and asked for access to the land. The railway company agreed because the land was not being used for any other purpose. At the beginning of this relationship, farmers were charged 50TSh per day (only a few cents in US$) to use the land. They also allowed farmers to use the water that flows through the farmland. The farmers were required to clear the land, however, which took a great deal of time and effort. From the beginning, farming was fairly successful, though strained during dry seasons. Over time, however, the water in the drainage stream, which was the only water available during the dry season, became increasingly polluted. Indeed, during site visits in June and July 2010, it could be different colours each day, ranging from milky grey to greenish-grey one day, to a red tinged grey the next, depending on what was being dumped into it by the railway company and other upstream industries. The farmers recognised the dangers to themselves and their crops of using this water, but had few other options. They dug several wells, but each time the rainy season arrived, the wells would become contaminated by flooding. When the farmers complained to their landlords, Tazara also recognised the problem and stopped charging the farmers rent. However, the farmers have had to continue to deal with the water issue, digging wells further from the stream and hauling heavy water cans back and forth to their plots.
In August 2010, due to increased public awareness of the harmful effects of polluted soils and water on the vegetables grown in the city, agriculture extension agents came to Tazara to divert the flow of water away from the farmers. While much of the concern was about the pollution in Msimbazi Valley, the public was also aware of the pollution issues at the mchicha fields at Tazara. The farmers were grateful for the actions of the agriculture agents, which meant they could dig wells that were not at risk of becoming contaminated by the heavily polluted water. This enabled them to tell their customers that they use clean water and that their vegetables are safe to eat. However, at the same time, a large parcel of Tazara land was purchased by an investor. Several farmers relied on this piece of land for their livelihoods, as well as for football pitches used by farmers and the community for recreation. On a follow-up visit, the need for a secure place to farm was reinvigorated and several farmers were very concerned about their future in that place. While Tazara has been one of the more hospitable agents to grant access to farmers, everyone is aware that this is a private company, which needs to put its resources to a profitable use.
However, Tazara has repeatedly told the farmers that the relationship is beneficial for them (Tazara-Mchicha group leader int.). When the farmers originally came in and cut down the shrub land to create open spaces for their plots, Tazara immediately saw a reduction in the amount of theft at the adjacent rail repair yard, and Tazara claims that the presence of the farmers reduces the likelihood of thieves breaking in. The land for farming is also adjacent to housing for Tazara workers, so the people who move through the farms each day to go to work or to school feel safer. Like the police station, Tazara has added value to the property by having farmers on their land. The land looks organised and if Tazara were to sell it, the amount of work needed to build on it has been reduced by the farmers’ activities. Tazara stands alone as the one land rights holder who has responded to farmers’ requests. When farmers complained about the water pollution, Tazara eliminated the fees for farming, which illustrates that they, too, recognise the benefits they receive from the farms.
Drive-In group
The Drive-In group consists of fifteen people on Old Bagamoyo Road very near the American Embassy. The farms are located on road reserve land right next to the often-congested two-lane road for about one hundred metres along and about thirty metres in from the road. The farmers primarily grow mchicha, with a few other leafy greens, such as pumpkin leaves. The people who began farming in the area in the 1980s lived and/or worked as house help or guards in the adjacent housing (Drive-In int.). Most started by clearing the land, which was formerly used as a trash dump, and they primarily grew cassava and other staple crops for home consumption. After the bombing of the American Embassy downtown in 1997, the new embassy was built down the road, displacing not only a drive-in movie theatre, but also several farmers who were using that land. A few moved down the road to the current Drive-In site. As more farmers began growing crops, the demand for water increased. As there is no natural watercourse through the site, farmers had to rely on water from DAWASCO, the city water company. However, the use of municipal water for farming is controversial. Even though the farmers were paying for the water, the surrounding community put tremendous pressure on them to stop using it. Water supply in Dar es Salaam is not reliable, and many people felt that using it on crops rather than for household needs was a waste.
The farmers at Drive-In organised themselves to go to the USAID office at the US embassy to ask for money to dig a permanent well. Through a series of circumstances unclear to the farmers, they wound up with a thirty-metre deep sealed well with an electric pump and a storage tank funded by the World Bank (Drive-In group leader int.). Like many projects in the city, this project occurred around election time when the CCM begins sponsoring projects to gain political support, and the sealed well is an advantage enjoyed by no other open-space farm in the city. Shortly after the well was installed, the farmers organised themselves to register their group (professional groups are supposed to register with the city, which can also provide them with a platform to request funding). They are registered, but the city keeps reminding them that they could lose their farms, or at least part of them, when the city decides to expand Old Bagamoyo Road. The city has also told them that they cannot grow permanent trees or tall crops, such as corn or mangos, because these will serve as a hiding place for thieves. At the same time of registration, the city also encouraged them to grow leafy green vegetables, rather than home staples such as cassava, because the greens would bring in cash income. According to the farmers, the agriculture agents said this was to help the farmers ‘develop themselves’, though they were unclear as to what exactly this meant.
The land here is owned by the municipality and as the Drive-In Group has formally registered with the city, there is a reliable communication link between the farmers and the city. It means that the city has been very clear that the farmers may be forcibly removed from the land. However, the land being under agriculture has several benefits for the city. First, as in other places, the farms remove hiding places for thieves, reducing potential violence or theft to citizens. Second, the land is well maintained and the farmers continually organise themselves to remove trash from the area, reducing unsightly litter that the municipality is trying to discourage. The farms are also green spaces, and the city council is encouraging the three municipalities in the city to set aside green spaces. Finally, keeping the area in farming means that if the municipality does expand Old Bagamoyo Road, it will not have to demolish other types of informal structures as the farms inhibit people from building on the land.
A final note about urban farms and electoral politics. The ruling party as of September 2010 is the CCM, and its support is very strong in many informal sector activities. Conversations with farmers reveal a wide level of support for the CCM, despite the increase in poverty and continued high rates of unemployment. The Drive-In group has a small CCM stand, similar to those scattered about the city that serve as gathering places for the CCM members in the community. Support for the CCM seems to be correlated with fears that if you do not support the CCM, you are more likely to lose your access to land. These rumours are borne out by numerous stories that people in the informal sector tell about people who support opposition parties being harassed by government officials. The farmers are unable to pick up and move their farms if city officials come to harass them – hence their staunch support for the political party that dominates government now. The elections of October 2010 loosened the CCM's grip on power, though it remains dominant. It is uncertain what the impact on farmers will be. For now, the government party that controls the land is able to derive political support by allowing the farmers to retain their use of government lands.
The four case studies presented above illustrate two points. First, farmers draw on diverse methods of securing at least temporary access to land in cities and the relationships that have historically governed that access to land. Too often, access to land for open-space farming is seen rather simplistically; farmers are seen as squatters, gaining illegal access without anybody having the power or will to remove them, except in times of seemingly random acts of harassment. Second, using the lens of access rather than tenure to examine the relationship between rights-holders and the farmers and users of the land reveals a wide variety of benefits to various stakeholders (farmers, rights-holders, the government). These cases represent complex relationships with land and the benefits that accrue to various stakeholders. This framework not only illustrates peaceful relationships between farmers and landowners, but also shows the diverse networks of power that operate in the interstitial areas of formal urban planning. The farmers’ fear of eviction is very real, and they know that they are at the mercy of those who hold the power to remove them (peacefully or forcefully). Instead, the intention here is to try to illustrate how thinking about land uses can provide benefits to various parties that reach beyond current ways of imagining top-down urban planning frameworks imported from the West (Robinson Reference Robinson2002, Reference Robinson2006). Urban planning in Dar es Salaam could reimagine the purposes and uses of urban space in the city to represent the realities of how the city actually works, and support emerging urban forms that have been well integrated into the life of the city.
The lens of access illustrates the benefits to land rights holders of allowing farmers to use the land. Farmers provide areas free of trash, which is rare in this city with few enforceable litter laws, and where trash lines most of the streets and open spaces. There is also a perception that urban farmers remove hiding spaces for thieves in the city who might either break into a neighbouring facility or rob people who walk through these open spaces on their way to markets, business or school. The municipalities do not allow farmers to plant crops that could hide a person, such as maize, mango trees and sugar cane (though there are a few dispersed exceptions to this), increasing the visible security of the place. The people who have the power to regulate what happens on urban land gain political support as long as they can guarantee farmers their access to land. Formal owners of the land, whether company, individual or government, are essentially guaranteed that more permanent structures, such as houses, will not be built on the property by people looking for available space in the city for residences or shops (Maxwell Reference Maxwell1996). Finally, the land under farming is an investment that increases the future value of the land by keeping it clear of brush and looking organised.
However, none of these benefits for landowners translates into truly secure tenure for the farmers, as the power relationships between the actors are highly uneven. While landowners may derive some benefits from the land, they have the ultimate power to drive farmers from the land when they need to use it for a different purpose. Further, with the law on their side, they can easily ask for, and if necessary pay for, the police to come in and harass the farmers to chase them off the land. The farmers’ activities that keep the land clear, drained and looking clean, increasing the value of the land, can actually hurt the farmers themselves by making the land look more attractive to potential buyers. At the time of this writing, I know of no specific instances of this, only rumours and concerns from farmers that the increased economic value, specifically in actions associated with draining water from wetlands therefore making land more developable, could end up hurting their long-term tenure security. As disproportionate power rests with the ability of private and state actors to forcibly remove farmers from the land, it is important to highlight that these relationships are not peaceful and secure, nor are they understood by any party as such. The farmers are at the mercy of the city and private interests to mobilise state resources to evict them at will, and they are aware that such evictions might not be peaceful.
Insecure land tenure has a significant impact on farming practices and land use. One example of this is in the types of vegetables they grow. Leafy greens such as mchicha, pumpkin leaves, potato leaves and Chinese cabbage can be planted and harvested within four to six weeks. Many farmers explain that while these are also important vegetables in local diets, the other advantage is that if they find out that they will have to leave the land, they can ask for just a few more weeks to harvest their last crops and if they do not receive that permission, they will not lose too much investment. The lack of formal tenure also limits other investments that farmers can make. While the literature does call into question whether formal land tenure leads to investments and improvements with regards to housing (Payne et al. Reference Payne, Durand-Lasserve and Rakodi2009), open-space farmers in Dar es Salaam are convinced that if they had formal tenure they would be able to deal with their second most difficult issue, which is access to consistent and clean water. The water table is not far below the surface in most of the city, but farmers need sealed wells to prevent contamination from polluted water during regular floods. Several agriculture agents suggested that urban farmers access District Agriculture Development Plan (DADP) funding, a programme that funds agricultural projects in cities throughout the country. However, the Ministry of Agriculture will not provide DADP funding for people or groups who lack formal tenure rights, as the money could end up being wasted if farmers are forced to leave their land (Dar es Salaam int.). Most of these funds end up in the peri-urban areas where land tenure is easier to obtain, particularly for the thousands of middle and upper-class urban residents who have farms in these areas to supplement their incomes.
Governments and development agencies tend to push for formal, legally recognised land tenure, so that land and housing markets will operate more efficiently (Jenkins Reference Jenkins2001). However, researchers have shown that many governments are incapable of keeping up with formal land delivery processes, and have questioned the assumptions that legal land tenure is more beneficial (Kironde Reference Kironde1995, Reference Kironde2006; Payne et al. Reference Payne, Durand-Lasserve and Rakodi2009). The process of informal land delivery is generally faster, more efficient and locally is often more socially accepted. However, research that has focused on land tenure, whether formal or informal, has hidden some useful alternatives by not examining the two-way relationship that a lens of access provides. I have highlighted several benefits of allowing urban open-space farms for landowners. A focus on access reveals that economic values are enhanced, and many perceived dangers associated with urban life, particularly theft and litter, are avoided by allowing farmers to use land. These benefits complicate the one-way focus on the legal benefits of land delivery.
This paper has also shown the variety of creative ways in which people who engage in urban farming are able to obtain large pieces of land for what is a highly visible and legally ambiguous land use. Secure tenure is a paramount concern for farmers, and extension agents and planners struggle to find ways to accommodate the land that farmers need. By providing some basic incentives to individual or corporate bodies to set aside land for farmers and highlighting the benefits that occur through the process, the city can take the burden off itself in finding land for farmers. This ‘third way’ of land tenure has already been proposed for land tenure for housing in Nairobi. Formal purchasing of land combined with informal subdivision increased the economic benefits received by poor communities (Hendriks Reference Hendriks2008). In Dar es Salaam, there are already schools that host farmers from the surrounding communities, designated green spaces for environmental preservation that are used for farming, and farming is already mixed in with other land uses. As the city of Dar es Salaam begins to take steps to zone spaces for urban farming, it can benefit by looking beyond static zoning models that see specific spaces in cities for a single use, and can learn from the emergent urban forms that are already well integrated into daily life to construct cities that better represent the realities of how people use urban spaces.
