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