Ive been staring at a blank screen for days now, pondering my next newsletter and what I want to share with you. You see, the problem is, addressing difficult topics on a small, intimate and ultimately insignificant blog like this, means that the author, for the most part ends up talking to like minded people and friends who already knows his heart, sentiment and perspective. Thus, it brings the risk of sounding like a rant to your inner circle and just stating much more of the obvious. Of course it also opens the writer up to serious scrutiny, online attacks and possible alienation. In my case luckily I don’t exactly have a massive following that I might lose, no shows or tours that might get cancelled and artistically not really much to lose. Basically the way it has always been. So for lack of a better term I might say that this month I am trying to take stock of what I am feeling, where I am at as an artist and where I stand as a man, business owner, farmer, friend and most of all… as an African. I won’t be trying to convince anyone or apologize or explain myself. This is purely personal and I am fully aware that there are many holes that can be poked through any statement I make in this newsletter. I guess I am trying to make sense of what I am feeling and have been experiencing lately.
In the Spring of 2021 events from the previous years culminated in a situation that demanded drastic measures. At the time I was fresh out of a divorce, my mom and dad were living apart and my sister, brother-in-law and the boys were in a difficult place brought about by years of challenges and exacerbated by the pandemic, drought and challenging times in our country. I will never forget my dad’s voice on the phone. I was washing dishes at my apartment in Johannesburg and hadn’t spoken to him in months. I could tell by his voice that things were serious. I had heard that tone of voice from him before, but not often. Once during the drought of 1991 when we harvested only sixteen cobs of corn out of nearly three hundred hectares planted and he still had them packed into a plastic grocery bag and chucked them onto the counter in my grandpas house with the deepest sigh I had ever heard and on the phone talking to me that bright Spring day. I was the only person in the family with the resources to save the farm and try and bring the operation back on track. The situation we were in was nobody’s fault. Everyone was working really hard, doing their jobs and trying their best but things had gotten away from us. It was time for a complete reassessment of our business and farming model. We needed administrative transparency, the employees needed to be formally contracted and compensated correctly. We had to invest in their well being as they stuck with the family for decades through hard times and it was the right thing to do. We needed the business to get on the books, operate legally and to manage risk, growth and sustainability. Most importantly I had to get the family back together and back on Tygerfontein. My family, every one of them, needed help and most of all they needed hope. I took a deep breath and told my dad that I love him and that I would call him back in a few days. I cashed in all my savings, consulted lawyers, accountants, financial advisers and banks. We settled the debts, consolidated loose ends and then I gave the word. I wanted everyone back on the farm. By then my folks were back together, the old farmhouse was renovated, my sister had moved in and my parents had started building their own house on the farm. We assessed the heard, got rid of old, open cows, surplus bulls and problem animals. We took stock, started preparing old cornfields to plant grass for extra hay and generally we gathered the family and employees and laid out the plans for the next five years. I had one opportunity to get this right and I knew I was going to make a lot of mistakes in the process and there would be setbacks, conflict and difficult decisions to be made. I also knew that I was going to need every bit of help that I could get. And man, did I receive help in buckets. From friends that drove out from the city to help with big projects to tradesmen and other farmers guiding, helping and supporting the family. You only know true gratitude once someone does something for you that you could never repay. There are just too many names to mention all of them here but I am paying it forward and I will forever be grateful. I hope my life and example will be a testament to my gratitude.
Today, four years later, things are looking up for Tygerfontein. We are on track with getting off the grid by January, the herd has grown to a lean and mean unit of hardy, well adapted cattle that perform very well, season after season. We have improved infrastructure, ensured food security for the livestock and the humans that call Tygerfontein home. Vegetable gardens, our own grass fed meat, poultry and eggs and fresh water. Day by day we are moving away from government dependence. I try to inspire my work force, now a five man team, to look ahead, to take ownership of their piece of land they live on and to think about each other, look toward the future and to make good decisions. I try to set the example of hard work, respect for my fellow man and integrity. Doing the right things right even when nobody’s watching. Being on the front line as a farmer, small business owner and employer I am acutely aware of the corruption, incompetence and malicious intent of our government and some its employees. Ever increasing taxes, you see nothing of, squandered by fat cat government officials. Poor service delivery and a constant onslaught of crime, hate speech against farmers and propaganda on local news outlets make for an often tense and divisive situation. Desperate, hungry people with hardly any hope for a better future are being manipulated by the very government that had promised them for thirty years that things would get better and still is letting them down. People are told they are poor because they are a certain race or ethnicity and others are being blamed for the hardship of the masses based on the color of their skin. The government signed into law the Expropriation of Property without compensation Act and it is only a matter of time before people start taking what is not rightfully theirs. These things cast a dark shadow on the future of our country and its people. The government and other fringe actors vilify farmers and after every rally where hateful chants like “ Kill the Farmer” or “ One Bullet one farmer” gets blasted into the crowd a noticeable spike in farm attacks can be seen. I still stick to my opinion that farm attacks are not a race motivated phenomenon. Farmers live in isolation, often have firearms and cash in the safe and are far from help when disaster strikes. They are easy targets and they cannot depend on the police or government for protection. Also, it’s important to remember that everyone on a farm is affected by a farm attack. The workers, mostly black, their families as well as the employers are brutally attacked, raped and killed. It shocks the community to its core and destroys hope and dreams for everyone. At Tygerfontein we look after each other. We have systems in place and my employees understand what is at stake. Tygerfontein provides a job and a future, however insignificant it might sound to the outside world, to two young men who would otherwise be on the street and unemployed, victims of South Africa’s almost 70% youth unemployment rate. It also provides a home and a safe haven to my two loyal, older employees who made this beautiful place their home. They are my family and I would die for them, the same way I would for my friends and my blood family. Id like to think they would do the same for me.
Dealing with all of this made me realize how disconnected and short sighted people have become. People are so easy to manipulate and control and many never verify any information or news. Sheep, groomed for the slaughter. Selfish, overweight, spoiled and entitled. Victims of comfort and excess. People that don’t know where their food comes from. People who’d rather protest about the situation in other countries than look around and make a difference in their own towns or communities. I will no longer be told that I am not an African. I am an African. I am fifth generation on Tygerfontein. For a Hundred and Forty years the Barnard clan have worked hard on that place and sacrificed. We had no hand outs from anyone. My great great grandfather moved North from the Eastern Cape to get away from British oppression, survived, fought and traded with the black tribes of the interior who by the way were also not indigenous to South Africa and finally settled where we still are today in 1885. My Great grandfather again fought the British in 1899 to 1901, my great grandmother and the kids were imprisoned in concentration camps like thousands of other Afrikaners. Some were shipped off to St Helena and they returned to burnt down farms and nothing. Against all odds they kept the farm in the family. My Grandpa left to go work in the city as a sixteen year old in a slaughterhouse to save the farm. My dad went to work in the goldmines, fought in Angola and worked his whole life to provide a home for us and to keep the farm. Through all generations there were strong, resourceful women who took care of their families. Fought and dreamed with their husbands and provided for the kids. The women like my two grandmothers, my mom and sister, suffered and sacrificed the most. They stand by us through thick and thin and they pay the highest price. Today I am working abroad to continue the legacy. No handouts, no strings to pull. No easy day. That is how it should be. I am no longer going to apologize for being a farmer or an African. I won’t be told that I am a racist just because I speak out about a corrupt government. I won’t be called a racist just because I am proud of my heritage and history. It is doesn’t mean I agree with everything and I know there is a lot that was wrong and still is wrong with my people. But a lot of us are trying hard to be better. I won’t be made to feel bad about who and what I am. I will not tolerate other Afrikaners sowing seeds of hate and discrimination in my presence. Especially not in the world of music and songwriting. Music is there to bring people together. I believe we can all exist, dream and build together. Divided we will fall, that is a sure thing. I don’t blame the Afrikaners who leave because of the situation in our country. Things are really bad. And it does not look like it’s going to get better anytime soon. But I am not leaving. South Africa is my home. Its people are hard working and good at their core for the most part. They have been let down and abandoned by a corrupt government. I have hope for us all. We just have to take ownership of our responsibility and hold people accountable for stealing our hopes and dreams. We have to start valuing the lives of our fellow citizens again and lead by example. Not only think about today or our immediate needs and desires but also about the repercussions of our actions and the future of our fellow citizens and loved ones. We have to lead with love and an open heart, not reciprocated hate or intolerance. We should hold on to our values, mutual respect and be tolerant towards each other.
“ Born down in a dead man’s town, the first kick I took was when I hit the ground
End up like a dog that’s been beat too much, till you spend half your life just to cover it up.
I was born in the USA ( RSA), Born in the USA ( RSA) !!!!!!!!
Im forty years burning down the road
Ive got nowhere to run, Ive got nowhere to go !!!
Born in the USA (RSA), Born in the USA (RSA) !!! “
With my utmost respect to The Boss !!
JB
