In
a
rural
area
around
250
kilometres
from
Zimbabwe’s
capital
Harare,
Kevin
(real
name
kept
anonymous
for
safety),
a
transgender
man,
is
rebuilding
his
life
through
tobacco
farming.
In
a
country
where
LGBTIQ+
people
face
discrimination,
criminalisation
and
social
exclusion,
cultivating
a
high-value
cash
crop
has
given
Kevin
something
he
had
long
been
denied:
economic
stability
and
recognition.
Gender
rights
organisations
report
high
levels
of
anxiety,
depression
and
suicidal
thinking
within
the
community,
often
driven
by
family
rejection
and
economic
exclusion.
For
Kevin,
relocating
to
a
rural
region
in
2024
was
a
strategic
decision.
Living
in
urban
areas
had
exposed
him
to
daily
discrimination
linked
to
his
gender
identity,
limiting
both
employment
opportunities
and
personal
safety.
“I
needed
a
way
to
survive
that
didn’t
depend
on
someone
else’s
approval.
People
think
we
have
nothing
to
contribute
except
sex,
forgetting
that
we
can
work
and
contribute
to
the
economy
like
anyone
else,”
he
says.
Tobacco
farming
offered
that
opportunity
because
it
operates
largely
within
Zimbabwe’s
formal
economy.
Unlike
maize
or
vegetables,
which
are
commonly
sold
through
informal
markets
vulnerable
to
exploitation,
tobacco
is
regulated
and
sold
through
licensed
auction
floors
or
contract
farming
systems.
By
obtaining
a
grower’s
licence
from
Zimbabwe’s
Tobacco
Industry
and
Marketing
Board
(TIMB),
Kevin
was
able
to
sell
his
crop
directly.
“Before,
someone
else
sold
my
tobacco
for
me
and
claimed
the
prices
were
low
or
payments
were
delayed,”
he
says.
“Now
I
sell
it
myself,
and
I
can
also
access
contracts
to
grow
tobacco
from
companies.”
“Queer
people
are
the
first
to
be
excluded
from
community
support”
This
formal
system
provides
a
crucial
layer
of
protection.
At
auction
floors,
tobacco
is
graded
according
to
quality,
not
the
farmer’s
identity.
“The
auction
floor
doesn’t
care
about
my
gender;
it
cares
about
the
grade
of
my
leaf.
For
the
first
time,
I
am
officially
recognised
as
a
farmer,”
Kevin
says.
That
recognition
means
bargaining
power,
predictable
income
and
access
to
inputs
and
contracts
–
forms
of
stability
that
are
rarely
available
to
LGBTIQ+
people
in
informal
sectors.
However,
tobacco
farming
is
capital-intensive
and
increasingly
affected
by
climate
change.
Kevin’s
first
season
was
marked
by
delayed
rains
and
a
lack
of
infrastructure
such
as
curing
barns.
To
manage
these
challenges,
he
joined Mother’s
Haven,
a
rural
initiative
formed
by
queer
women
and
transgender
men.
Tsitsi
Chiwa,
director
of
Mother’s
Haven,
says
the
initiative
emerged
as
climate
shocks
reduced
rural
livelihoods.“When
resources
become
scarce
because
of
drought,
queer
people
are
the
first
to
be
excluded
from
community
support,”
she
says.
“Agriculture,
especially
high-value
crops
like
tobacco,
became
a
way
to
secure
our
own
income
and
build
safety
nets.”
Through
the
initiative,
members
pool
resources
for
fertiliser
and
firewood,
reducing
individual
risk.
Still,
visibility
in
rural
areas
remains
dangerous.
Teddy
Munyimani,
programmes
manager
at
Gays
and
Lesbians
of
Zimbabwe
(GALZ),
adds
that
young
queer
people
face
higher
risks
of
anxiety,
depression,
trauma
and
low
self-worth,
particularly
when
they
return
to
family
or
community
environments
that
are
not
emotionally
safe.
“Many
experience
isolation,
enforced
silence
and
pressure
to
suppress
their
identity,”
he
says.
Lungelo
Ndhlovu is
a
freelance
journalist
based
in
Bulawayo,
Zimbabwe.
ndlovu.lungelo@gmail.com
Source:
How
a
transgender
tobacco
farmer
in
Zimbabwe
is
fighting
for
dignity