Labour migration and remittances in Zimbabwe

Labour migration and remittances have a long pedigree in rural Zimbabwe (see Bracking & Sachikonye Reference Bracking and Sachikonye2006; Maphosa Reference Maphosa2007, Reference Maphosa, Crush and Tevera2010; Mazwi Reference Mazwi2022; Thebe Reference Thebe2011), and are closely linked to colonial conquest, the creation of native reserves and subsequent land policies (Arrighi Reference Arrighi1970; Scoones & Murimbarimba Reference Scoones and Murimbabrima2021; Thebe Reference Thebe2018). The creation of Native Reserves proceeded together with the racialisation of territory (Ndlovu-Gatheni Reference Ndlovu-Gatsheni, Raftopoulos and Mlambo2009) and the coercive incorporation of the African population into the emerging capitalist system (Arrighi Reference Arrighi1970; Phimister & Pilossof Reference Phimister and Pilossof2017; Scoones & Murimbarimba Reference Scoones and Murimbabrima2021). While Native Reserves were identified and created for settlement by indigenous Africans, they were, in all purposes, created as labour reservoirs for agricultural, industrial and mining capital.

Much of the early literature on Native Reserves has highlighted the ‘reserve labour’ aspect and its significance to emerging capitalism. Bush & Cliffe (Reference Bush and Cliffe1984: 77) highlighted how the native reserves provided for the ‘reproduction of labour power, used elsewhere in the economy in capitalist production, on terms that make it available cheaply as form of some migrant labour’. Potts (Reference Potts2000) drew our attention to the development of a worker-peasantry, mainly migrant men who worked in urban areas, but also maintaining close links with the rural home, and ‘farmer housewives’ (mostly the women left behind to secure rural land rights). She was also unambiguous about the significance of remittances, pointing out that ‘the dependence of many, if not most, rural households on such remittances is fundamental to their survival’ (Potts Reference Potts2000: 808).

Along similar lines, Nyambara (Reference Nyambara2001: 776) found that when the Gokwe frontier opened for settlement in the 1950s, labour migrants would ‘book land’ by ‘leaving their wives [in the rural area], and then return[ing] to work’. He also noted that the practice was a common strategy of securing land access, and was a ‘well-established method of exploiting the flexibility of ‘communal’ tenure, which allowed rural households to combine rural and urban incomes’ (ibid).

In rural areas of Zimbabwe, labour migration was also an outcome of agricultural marginality (see Andersson Reference Andersson2007). If initially, labour migration was coerced (Arrighi Reference Arrighi1970; Johnson Reference Johnson1992), we cannot rule out the possibility of male labour migration as a livelihood choice as agriculture could not generate income for commitments such as taxes (Thebe Reference Thebe2021; see also Boehm Reference Boehm2003 in Lesotho). Scholars have documented how Native Reserves were designated in regions of marginal agricultural potential (Andersson Reference Andersson2007; Gwekwerere et al. Reference Gwekwerere, Mutasa and Chitofiri2018; Phimister Reference Phimister1988).

Others showed how African agriculture was systematically eroded through discriminatory policies (like the Maize Control Act of 1931) (Baudron et al. Reference Baudron, Andersson, Corbeels and Giller2012) and deliberate neglect (Bush & Cliffe Reference Bush and Cliffe1984). Some scholars have also drawn a relationship between labour migration and the demise of African agriculture, arguing that the neglect and failure of African agriculture worked to the advantage of the settler economy. The colonial state, by neglecting African agriculture, forced Africans into wage labour (see Potts Reference Potts2010). Africans, too, needed money to finance marginal agricultural activities, following the adoption of the plough (see Wolmer & Scoones Reference Wolmer and Scoones2000).

Alexander et al. (Reference Alexander, McGregor and Ranger2000), too, in the context of the former Shangani Reserves, brought the relationship between labour migrants and ploughs by describing new immigrants as ‘plough using people’. Along similar lines, literature on Zimbabwean agriculture in general has shown how agriculture is input-intensive, requiring extensive financial investments (Jayne et al. Reference Jayne, Chisvo, Rukuni, Masanganise and Rukuni2006). From this perspective, Cousins et al. (Reference Cousins, Weiner and Amin1992) highlighted how successful agriculture was linked to labour migration and investment of wage income into agriculture.

While this pattern has persisted, we need to recognise the changes brought by the Economic Structural Adjustment Programme (ESAP) and retrenchments in the 1990s (Carmody & Taylor Reference Carmody and Taylor2003; Potts & Mutambirwa Reference Potts, Mutambirwa, Jussila, Majoral and Mutambirwa2019; Sachikonye Reference Sachikonye, Lindberg and Sverrisson2016), and the 1991/1992 and subsequent droughts (Andersson Reference Andersson2007; Bird & Shepherd Reference Bird and Shepherd2003). These led to a shift in this relationship. Today, labour migration patterns have changed, with increased cross-border migration since the 2000s (Crush & Tevera Reference Crush, Tevera, Crush and Tevera2010; Crush et al. Reference Crush, Chikanda and Tawodzera2015; Maphosa Reference Maphosa2007; Thebe Reference Thebe2011).

Out-migration to South Africa, as a result of job losses, is reflected in the rapid rise in national migration figures to about 700 000 between 1991 and 1995, and the growing popularity of the malayisha system (omalayisha), which transported both goods and cash remittances (Thebe Reference Thebe2011). Omalayisha further provided a perfect opportunity for cross-border migrants to change the rural landscape through investment – build modern homes powered with solar power – which has become a source of rural social stratification (Maphosa Reference Maphosa, Crush and Tevera2010; Thebe Reference Thebe2014).Footnote ⁷

COVID-19 regulations in South Africa and Zimbabwe

It is undeniable that the COVID-19 pandemic provided the greatest disruption to social life and human nature. After March 2020, when cases of the pandemic increased, countries in the SADC region implemented a cocktail of containment regulations, which completely changed social and economic dynamics, with both short- and long-term impacts on households, families and individuals (Adebiyi et al. Reference Adebiyi, Donga, Omukunyi and Roman2022). Many countries implemented lockdown regulations including imposing international and internal travel bans, as well as national border closures – decisions that disrupted movement and transportation linkages (Moyo Reference Moyo2022; Mushomi et al. Reference Mushomi, Palattiyil, Bukuluki, Sidhva, Myburgh, Nair and Nyasulu2022; Rutayisire et al. Reference Rutayisire, Nkundimana, Mitonga, Boye and Nikwigize2020). Others have argued that these restrictions, while effective and necessary in containing the pandemic, have severe impacts on migrant communities and migrant sending communities or countries (Rogan & Skinner Reference Rogan and Skinner2020; Zanker & Moyo Reference Zanker and Moyo2020).

In South Africa, the government adopted a strategic response, with a five-tier risk-adjusted strategy, with a hard lockdown implemented from March 2020. While there were adjustments to the levels when and where the cases declined and the delivery of health care services and systems were deemed adequate, other services and activities remained restricted. As in other countries impacted by the pandemic, most economic activities were suspended during Level 5, but essential and freight services including cross-border freight were exempted (Crush & Sithole Reference Crush, Sithole and Rajan2024; Moyo Reference Moyo2022).

Although Level 5 restrictions were later relaxed to Level 4 on 1 May 2020, travel restrictions remained – restrictions on cross-border and provincial travel, restrictions on personal interaction, prohibitions on any forms of recreation, and although public transport was allowed to operate, there were restrictions on carrying capacity (Crush & Sithole Reference Crush, Sithole and Rajan2024). While the government allowed most of the workers to return to work with the implementation of Level 3 on 1 June, employers and employees had to comply with strict health protocols (ibid). During lockdown, unemployment increased, resulting in livelihood and income losses, particularly by international migrants and informal sector workers, as the informal sector was severely affected (Crush & Sithole Reference Crush, Sithole and Rajan2024; Rogan & Skinner Reference Rogan and Skinner2020; Sithole et al. Reference Sithole, Campbell, Doré and Kozanayi2003).

In Zimbabwe, similarly, COVID-19 restrictions became a source of livelihood deprivation, and rural families that depended on remittances bore the brunt. As others have shown, in Zimbabwe remittances (both national and international) are key to the survival of rural households (Bracking & Sachikonye Reference Bracking and Sachikonye2008; Maphosa Reference Maphosa2007; Thebe Reference Thebe2011). As in South Africa, lockdown measures in Zimbabwe ‘disrupted work, economic life, income sources and livelihoods of most families’, as both sectors of the economy operated below capacity and some organisations and markets closed shop (Tom & Chipenda Reference Tom and Chipenda2020). Furthermore, lockdown regulations applied to urban areas more than rural areas, while travel bans were enforced through patrols and roadblocks on major highways (ibid).Footnote ⁸

Besides, when the South African government reopened its borders, the Zimbabwean government maintained its closure of the Beitbridge border post, which opened opportunities for illegal movements including smuggling of both humans and goods, and any ‘other quasi-legal activities across the formal [border]’ (Moyo Reference Moyo2022: 783).Footnote ⁹

Households, remittances and food security

Throughout much of the early lockdown period, two different types of households could be identified, in terms of the impact of the freeze on remittance movements and food availability. In some households, the situation could be described as critical and bordering on a crisis. In others, the situation remained stable, but difficult since the experience was entirely new and different from the past.

Of the 50 households studied, 37 indicated that they used to receive regular monthly remittances, 5 were receiving bulk remittances, while for the remainder, the remittances were irregular and not always guaranteed, before the policy changes. For some, particularly those who depended on monthly supplies, the situation became more pronounced as they reported experiencing food scarcity. These households, which were by far in the majority, mostly received smaller consignments for a month’s consumption.

As would be expected, they had last received supplies in February, just before the lockdown. The majority were supported by migrants who were working menial jobs, and despite remittances being a major source of support, the wages were very low. A significant number of households were not receiving monthly remittances, and among these were households that were receiving bulky supplies, mostly three times during the year. By her admission, MaNgwabi only received supplies only three times in a year: ‘my sons only send or bring goods mostly during major public holidays (Christmas, Easter and Heroes in August), and these would last us for months’ (MaNgwabi int). She went on to explain: ‘When the lockdown happened, we had received our last delivery in December 2019, and were expecting the next delivery in March or April, which unfortunately never arrived’.

Nevertheless, the system of remitting adopted by these households meant that their situation was significantly different from that of others. The bulk remittance strategy meant that these households were not immediately affected by the lockdown, but the effects became evident later as the freeze in cross-border movements continued. A small number of migrants were expecting to visit the rural homes and take remittances with them during the Easter holidays. They had not visited during Christmas because of work commitments. It is quite common for migrants to only take remittances with them when they visit home, and these visits mostly happen during public holidays or on their annual vacation leave days.

The freeze on the movement of cross-border remittances, however, was not the only contributor to a lack of remittances. Some migrants in South Africa had also lost income due to lockdown regulations. The majority of migrants from the area were employed in sectors such as hospitality, with no stable income, and these sectors were affected the most.

One migrant, and a head of household, who had a wife and five children in one of the villages, indicated that he lost his job as a waiter. Some of the migrants, who were infected by the virus, got incapacitated. Notwithstanding the situation, income was lost, and remittances could not reach the rural households. When asked about their food situation, the common responses were: ‘goods were stuck on the other side of the border’; ‘no one could bring them across’; ‘my children lost their jobs and struggled to survive in South Africa’; and ‘goods were sent and they never arrived…were confiscated by police’.

Several authors have also identified similar challenges, which became common among migrants in South Africa, thus affecting households in the receiving country (e.g. Sithole et al. 2025). Although this literature is not specific to rural households, we should not deny that the impact of the regulations was felt beyond the national borders where the migrants lived.

Alternatives and associated challenges

To better understand the food availability situation of cross-border migrant households in this former labour reserve, it is necessary to explore the alternatives that became available and the challenges associated with such alternatives. At first sight, there appear to be available alternatives, both for migrants to send remittances home and for their households to access food. But the issue was not that simple.

The movement of goods from South Africa involved new methods, which were new and risky (see Moyo Reference Moyo2022). Omalayisha had found new ways of moving goods across, either through smuggling or by operating haulage trucks. Either way, these methods were unreliable. The cross-border migrants I interviewed indicated that they were under pressure to send food items home, and omalayisha were actively canvassing for clients. However, the whole process was risky. Of the migrants who took this route, not all were successful, as goods were either not received at all or were delivered with some missing items.

Goods that were delivered were often delayed, and as one of the recipients remembered, ‘some goods were delivered damaged, or spoilt’ (MaNcube int). Furthermore, the migrants told of goods being confiscated by customs officials or police. More commonly, during the lockdown period, there were smuggling activities as people and goods continued to move between Zimbabwe and South Africa (Moyo Reference Moyo2022; Mutendi & Chekero Reference Mutendi and Chekero2023). Despite restrictions on cross-border movements, the South African-Zimbabwean border remained permeable, and transporters continued to exploit the situation to develop smuggling routes (Moyo Reference Moyo2022).

Remitting cash through semi-formal channels also occurred from South Africa. Cash remittances had probably, on the whole, became the most feasible way. Access to these channels by migrants was not difficult: first, the requirements were easy to satisfy (see Chauke and Thebe forthcoming); second, migrants were already patronising these channels even before the lockdown, and some had accounts with institutions such as Mukuru; and third, agents representing these institutions were active among the migrant community, recruiting clients.

Some study households had received cash remittances, as an alternative to goods during the same period. However, the money was of no value since goods were not easily available in local shops, and when they were available, ‘the pricing was often exorbitant’ (MaGumede int). Although recipients could easily receive the money in United States Dollars, which was the preferred currency, they still could not travel to cities where goods were available and affordable because of restrictions on inter-provincial travel. In the rural area, however, even the black market that dominates the Zimbabwean food market is not available, which ultimately rendered the cash remittances worthless. In fact, according to one individual, ‘there was no difference between one with money and the one without, as both faced starvation’ (MaZondo int).

In addition, government food relief programmes were inaccessible to some households. I was informed that humanitarian food aid has always been politicised and only awarded through selective criteria, which singled out households with cross-border migrants for exclusion. The background to the exclusion could be inferred from the following excerpts:

Such criteria ultimately closed the door for households that were receiving cross-border remittances. Only a few households, mostly those headed by the elderly and those known for the lack of cross-border support, benefited from the programmes. The community actually prevented these households from accessing any food assistance programmes.

These households also faced a strong disincentive to enlist for food relief, knowing that they fell outside the qualification criteria. However, some people blamed these households: ‘Some households that received remittances never availed themselves for consideration, preferring instead to purchase their grain requirements’ (MaNdlovu int.).Footnote ¹⁴

As a way of accommodation, a parallel government food programme was introduced, where grain was made available for people to purchase at subsidised prices. However, people said the programme was chaotic, characterised by erratic supply of grain, capture of the programme by those with connections, favouritism and plunder. Consequently, it became difficult to access this assistance for many people, as shown below:

In other words, households that required food remained outside the programmes. This, of course, had a negative spin-off on households, with cross-border migrants who had lost goods. The government also failed to provide enough quantities of grain. As a result, some households were left without food, while the cost of feeding oneself increased dramatically as food prices sky-rocketed. There were also complaints that the maize that was provided had gone bad and was fermenting.

Case Study 1: Enough food reserves (MaNgwabi)

Gogo MaNgwabi’s household was an ideal modern home, with a female head. People in the village described her as humble and generous. Others recognised her household for its material wealth and social standing in the community. Her family owned a second home in the City of Bulawayo, had a modern brick-built house in the rural area, and had managed to educate children (2 with higher degree qualifications) and occupy high-paying jobs in South Africa, while one of the two remaining daughters held a number of mining claims in Zimbabwe. The children owned a fleet of expensive vehicles. The grandchildren, whom she had brought up, also lived in South Africa, and two of them were in professional occupations.

Since the death of Mr Mahlobo, who worked for the City Council in Bulawayo in 1993, the household had been supported by children and other members working in South Africa. They provided financial and material support needed by the household, making sure that the elderly woman was comfortably catered for. Thus, access to cross-border remittances allowed her household to achieve food self-sufficiency even when crops had failed.

The household mostly received bulky supplies, which migrant members brought during public holidays, while those remaining in Zimbabwe provided supplementary goods, ensuring that the household did not run out of food. In six months following the lockdown, the household never received cross-border remittances, although the old lady indicated that she had enough food stock from previous deliveries. The supplementary supplies from the city were only received in February, just before the lockdown.

This contrasts with the common situation at the time, as found, for example, in other households in the community, where food supplies dried out, creating a crisis situation. However, the situation with the containment regulations was new, and the old lady feared that if it continued for a long time, the situation could change. She explained:

She also indicated that she stressed a lot during the period about her two sons, who had contracted the virus, but had survived. A loss of any of her sons would have killed her, and probably brought changes to her household. She explained: ‘I did not know how I would handle it; they are my everything……, they filled their father’s gap, and no one can tell that I am a widow’.

As restrictions on cross-border movements and internal mobility continued, it was to be expected that the household’ food situation would change, and with changes in remittances from goods to money, consumption habits would change. The issue that the household had to address then was how and where to source food, given that it was also excluded from the humanitarian aid list, and in the words of the old lady, ‘the maize supplied by the government was bad for consumption due to fermentation’.

Case study 2. Food crisis (Judith Madlala)

A typical cross-border migrant household in the study was that of Ms Judith Madlala. It was an ordinary home of three traditional mud and thatch huts, headed by a single woman (Judith) in her early 50s, who lived with her late sister’s two children (a son and a daughter) and five grandchildren from her sister’s two daughters. She had assumed headship of the household after her sister (Lilian), who had returned home after a failed marriage, died. Judith had never married, had no children of her own, and had never lived anywhere except in the village.

Her household, just like her family of origin, was considered poor by community members due to a lack of assets such as cattle, which are the main source of draft power. Her father worked in Bulawayo until the 1970s, but returned home to begin a new life after losing his job. Together with her siblings, six brothers and two sisters (some with their own homes in the community), she never managed to complete primary school.

Her late sister’s elder daughter (Ntombana) was married in South Africa, but had left two children (both from different men) behind. She occasionally visited her children and brought food, but in most cases, she sent money and groceries through a cross-border transporter (umalayisha), who had a home in the community.

Judith, herself, was a vegetable vendor, mostly selling wild fruits and berries to passing motorists. Judith still ploughed the family fields with the assistance of her two brothers, who owned a herd of cattle, but the land was poor, and Judith remarked that they never really derived any benefits from the fields. In a way, the household was supported by a combination of remittances from South Africa and proceeds from her vending activities. However, remittances sent by her sister’s daughter were the only sustainable means of support.

For three months before the lockdown, she had not sent anything, and Judith had been expecting groceries for the Easter holidays. Unfortunately, the borders closed, omalayisha stopped operating, and nothing was delivered. In the meantime, the family ran out of food: the harvest was poor, she could not sell fruits and vegetables, and remittances had ceased. Judith remembers how she moved around seeking grain or maize meal loans from neighbours; these grain loans had to be repaid once she had received her own grain. Her sister’s daughter had promised to find alternative ways to send goods. In July 2020, she had sent goods through omalayisha, who were smuggling goods through undesignated exit points along the Limpopo River. However, the goods never arrived. She said she was informed that the goods were lost in transit.

She enlisted in the government food aid programme, which was implemented to provide temporary relief during the lockdown period. The programme, however, did not cater for households with cross-border migrants. With some assistance from community members, who understood and sympathised with her situation, she had received a bag of maize, but this only lasted a month as she had to repay the grain loans. She was able to find work at MaNgwabi’s homestead and managed to get maize meal as payment, but this also did not last long.

The Judith Madlala case is clearly unique and departs from the model migrant labour household where a man, who is often the head of household, provided the necessary support. Certainly, her sister’s daughter had no obligation towards the household and only provided support because of her two children. As such, remittances were not regular as evidenced by the three-month lag before the lockdown period. In typical migrant labour systems, remittances sustain households, in combination with agricultural production, but in the context of agricultural marginality, remittances assume a more significant role. While it is easy to blame the household’ situation on changing regulations, it is also important to ask whether the situation would have been different, had the remittances been more regular?

Case study 3: Alternative channels, but no food access (MaNkala)

Like most labour migrant households in the community, this was well-supported through remittances from South Africa. It was one of the few with male heads providing remittances. The man worked in South Africa and only came home for short periods, which left his wife (MaNkala) as the de facto head.

By local standards, the household could be considered rich, with a herd of cattle, a modern cement brick house, a scotch cart, helpers and a second home in the City of Bulawayo. Taking advantage of the availability of relatively cheaper products and diverse channels of remittances, the man was able to maintain a steady flow of both goods and cash.

For a household that had small fields, the man sent goods every month. In a migrant labour economy, remittances and access to income from the wage often compensate for the lack of land and production from the fields. As others have shown, land in these communities has no agricultural value and does not define household status, since wealth accumulation is premised on men making money from migrant labour (Boehm Reference Boehm2003; Thebe Reference Thebe2017).

When the men visited during major public holidays, he would bring larger quantities of goods because he had a van. He had last visited in December 2019 and was expected again in April 2020, but the visit never materialised. He also had not sent any substantial amount of goods in the months preceding April, hoping to bring the goods himself. This means that the household’s food supplies were already low, and in July 2020, the situation reached crisis levels.

The husband used Mukuru to send money, providing the household with the opportunity to purchase food. However, local shops had limited stock, and with a hard lockdown in place, she could not access the urban food market. In August, the man sent goods through umalayisha, but the consignment was confiscated en route. This placed the household in a precarious situation, without any food supplies.

At face value, the case of this household seems to replicate the argument by scholars for food sovereignty. After all, if the household had fields and had produced its own food, the impacts of the changes in regulations would have been minimal. However, the situation is more complex. For instance, the household had cattle, small fields and had access to labour in the form of employees, and it could easily have produced its own food, if the natural conditions permitted. Its dependence on the market for food access was not a question of choice, but that of necessity.

Case study 4: Jobs lost in South Africa (MaDube)

MaDube was widowed and middle-aged. Originally from the southern region of Zimbabwe, she had married into one of the pioneer families in the community. She had been a de facto household head since the early 1980s when she got married because her husband worked in Bulawayo, only coming home for brief periods. He had died in early 2000, leaving her with six children who were still at school. After completing secondary school, four of her children (3 sons and a daughter) migrated to South Africa, leaving her children in her care. This necessitated regular support.

After their migration, the household had reduced its farming activities due to labour constraints and persistent rain failure. It was only engaging in marginal farming activities, producing maize and other vegetable crops for immediate consumption. Thus, it became overly dependent on support from the children, who provided regular cross-border support.

When her household ran out of food items, she would get food loans from a network of households that loaned each other food while waiting for their next delivery. She would repay the same amount she had borrowed once she gets her delivery. These food loans were an important short-term food access facility. As such, in February 2020, she had loaned 2kg of sugar from MaNgwabi, after her stock ran out, which she intended to repay in March once her children sent goods from South Africa.Footnote ¹⁷ However, there was no consignment in March. The South African government had locked down the country before the month ended, and her children had not received their salaries to send the much-needed remittances.

This was the first time she had missed a delivery and failed to repay MaNgwabi’s food loan. Furthermore, her children were employed in industries that were most affected by the lockdown, and the two sons had lost their jobs after their employers closed shop. This left the household without any form of material and financial support, in debt and without any food. In July, two of the children were still without jobs, but her daughter had managed to send money for her to buy food. However, there was no food to buy.

This household’s case proves that although migration can be seen as significant to poverty reduction, the reality is rather complex. Poverty reduction – which is achieved through migration – is highly dependent on migrants being successful in getting jobs. In this case, the pandemic led to loss of jobs and, therefore, loss of income. This means, even without the closure of the border, the sons had lost the capability to send remittances.

Interpreting the case studies

The cases discussed above are important for any understanding of the significance of remittances for the food status and survival of cross-border migrant households. These households clearly represent a new generation of households described elsewhere by Thebe (Reference Thebe, Ndlovu-Gatsheni and Mhlanga2013) as having disengaged from the Zimbabwean economy,Footnote ¹⁸ whose livelihoods heavily depended on migrant labour to either Botswana or South Africa (see also Maphosa Reference Maphosa2007). These households depend on an uninterrupted flow of remittances from across the border. As the study has shown, any disruption of the cross-border remittance system impacts on their food provision and status, and threatens their existence.

As much as farm households in low rainfall regions are vulnerable to natural shocks, the study shows that households that rely on remittances are equally vulnerable to economic shocks, and for cross-border migrants, their vulnerability extends to immigration laws and regulations. The cases further illustrate the vulnerability of cross-border migrant labour households to the volatility of foreign labour markets. Such households often have no fallback options locally since their livelihoods are based abroad.

Without access to this key aspect of their survival, the households have relatively little chance of accessing food. As we have seen, with the blockage of this avenue, such households tend to sink into poverty, unless if enough investment was made locally from cross-border receipts. Judith Madlala and MaDube’s households, for example, had made no investments, and neither had they maintained sufficient stores of food, and the fall from grace was more pronounced as they found themselves facing a food crisis.

The households had to find alternative sources of food in a very hostile environment, where even other households selfishly blocked their food access locally. In their quest for survival and to navigate the tough regulations, which blocked the usual channels of food access, some of these households were forced into illegal and often risky methods, mainly through smuggling, to achieve food access.