I arrived on the farm last Monday, finally being able to leave the Middle East after months of uncertainty brought on by the war in Iran and the subsequent fallout. It felt great stepping out into the winter chill of Tygerfontein and surrendering to the loving embrace of my parents, sister, brother-in-law and nephews. To shake hands with my employees and seeing their bright smiles and friendly eyes. I scanned the yard and I could see the effort put in by my team to maintain the buildings, tend to the gardens and keeping the property looking professional and representative of our company values. In the holding pens, the goats were kicking up a fine afternoon dust cloud and I could see the cattle herd grazing along the ridge in the distance. I was home again. What a privilege.
Settling into daily life and work routine on the farm after spending months in Doha can be a bit overwhelming. Everyone wants to tell you their story, share their concerns and ask your advice. Months of news come at you in waves and it gets hard to process everything as well as respond in the appropriate way with limited perspective to everyone that need or expect it. You drive through the farm, starting with the fences, walk and assess the herd, take notes and make to-do lists. You see all the things out of place, things to rectify and projects that need attention. You follow up on projects completed while you were gone and somewhere in all of that you need to unpack, organise and try to get some sleep. You’ve got people to see, appointments to keep and all the while you get filled with the feeling of dread when you realise that this break will be over before you know it. You get anxious and wonder if you’re really on track with this whole business. You don’t know where to begin… and then you realise that the farm, the business, you as a person are in a state of becoming and that is how it should be. To get comfortable with the constant change and accepting that the work will never be done. That all you can do is your very best.
This past Saturday morning I hit the road real early. It was six below zero and the sky was filled with stars. An expanse of light that took my breath away as I stared up at the Milky Way. I headed South East bound toward the coal town of Newcastle to visit my good friends on Wykom Farm a few miles out of town. In the dark, my Roadtrip playlist going, I snaked along the two lane highways of the Free State and Kwazulu-Natal, past the sleepy country towns and the landscape that at times resembles Texas or Oklahoma. Herd of cattle, men on horseback riding the fences and breathtaking vistas of my beloved country. I sang song ideas into my iPhone and experimented with melodies and stories. I was welcomed with warm smiles and good coffee. Alanka had a pot of stew and some butternut soup going and while playing with little Ben we stoked the fireplace, water heater and coal stove to ensure the house and water was warm before another winter night fell on the farm. We talked and laughed. Reminisced and got each other up to date with our busy lives. We played guitar and cried, then retired to our warm beds. Exhausted but hearts filled with gratitude and love found only in shared adversity and constant mutual investment.
Too soon I had to say my goodbyes but with promise of a swift return I turned my truck toward the town of Dundee and checked the map for the road that would take me to the Blood River Battlefield. I always wanted to see it. The events of 16 December 1838 are documented, contested and often teeter on controversy but for me, an apolitical African I felt it necessary to visit the site, see it for myself. Like the battle of Little Big Horn, accounts vary. You don’t have to choose sides to be deeply moved by what happened there. It was part miracle, part slaughter. A thought provoking trip through the atrocities of European expansion and exploitation in Africa and the hardship endured by those longing for their own piece of land and freedom from oppression. The Free State and Natal were some of the most contested regions in all of Africa. Different African Tribes moving South into the interior. Dutch and British moving North. Tribal Wars, Wars over gold, cattle and land. Thus place is filled with the ghosts of legendary characters like Shaka and Dingane. Andries Pretorius and Dirkie Uys. No matter what side you stand on there is a story for you. It was a once in a lifetime experience.
I pointed the pickup Westbound and with a full tank of diesel, Willie Nelson in the speakers and a ribcage full of gratitude I put my foot down to make the farm by sunset. Last light found me pulling into Tygerfontein and after a lovely meal with my parents I retired to my shotgun shack for some well deserved shuteye. A whole new week awaits. Work to do, friends to see, songs to write. I’m on a roll and I’m going to keep on going.
JB
