BBQ Magazine is delighted to publish an extract from Bulelwa Mabasa’s book, My Land Obsession: A Memoir.
I remember the feeling I had when I received the WhatsApp message inviting me to attend the GIBS Business School colloquium on land as a delegate. Apparently, my twelve years of involvement in the land reform arena as a black woman and attorney were not good enough to land me an automatic speaking slot at possibly the most attended and notable land colloquium. I was furious. I told the person organising the event that I was head of the Land Reform, Restitution, and Tenure practice at one of the top five firms in the country, and I believed I had value to add to the conference as a speaker. When I looked down at my WhatsApp reply, I felt nauseous at having asserted myself in this way.
I am glad I did, because it was at this GIBS land colloquium in 2018 that I unleashed my full self: the girl from Meadowlands had come into her own.
I had prepared a speech on national land policy and legislative gaps in restitution, redistribution, and land tenure. Aware of the gravity and importance of the opportunity to add my voice to the discourse, I was not going to hold back.
The moderator called me up to the stage. I took a deep breath as I scanned the more than 100-strong audience. I looked down at my notes and cue cards. I decided I was not going to rely on them. This moment called for me to speak from the heart–something that is counter-intuitive for a lawyer.
I began to speak about my personal journey, tracing it to 511K, through to school, university, and ultimately law practice. Something intangible, spiritual, and deeply personal was responsible for the words I was uttering. I spoke about the cases, the people, and the challenges they had encountered.
When I returned to my seat, the applause was so loud that I knew this moment was the genesis of something bigger than me.
As I walked out of the conference at the end, I was congratulated by senior ANC officials, who pulled me aside to enquire if I would be interested in attending the upcoming ANC Land Summit.
Two months later, I was afforded a slot at the ANC Land Summit to provide my views on whether or not the current Constitution made provision for expropriation without compensation.
The conference was filled to capacity. The atmosphere was abuzz with hope and promise, but it also had a sense of urgency. I appreciated being in the same space as respected intellectuals, academics, lawmakers, and activists dedicated to exploring possible solutions to land reform.
I had decided I would bring to light the challenges of limited to no real land rights for the majority of poor people in South Africa. These were people living in informal settlements and backrooms in many townships. They were people whose names and addresses do not appear at the Deeds Office. These were poor people living in rural areas, often spoken for by traditional leaders, and with insecure land rights in the form of permissions to occupy. These were women, sisters, wives, and girls who could be evicted from land as a result of patriarchal practices.
I outlined the plight of land claimants who were trapped in decision-making issues within trusts and Communal Property Associations. The CPAs are legal structures created by legislation that provides that once land claimants are awarded the land after a successful claim, they elect among themselves a leadership structure that takes decisions on how to regulate the use and possible investment of the land.
In practice, communities often battle with in-fighting as a result of discord. In the context of land claims, communities invariably involve hundreds and thousands of people. The expectation that they must act as a homogeneous collective in making decisions is not only dangerous but it is also counter-intuitive.
Many years in practice had taught me that the expectation placed on communities to act communally almost always resulted in years of unresolved litigation, broken families, and sometimes even death. I bemoaned the fact that although research and statistics had proven that over 80% of South Africans were moving to cities and urban areas in pursuit of proximity to economic opportunities, our redistribution policies were heavily skewed in favour of farming, agriculture, and rural occupation.
When tracing the trajectory of the metamorphosis of these policies, I wondered why it was that there was still no legislation that informed South Africans who land was being awarded to, where the land was, and the purpose for which it was being used.
It was the last day of the Land Summit and President Ramaphosa closed the conference. He did not speak for long, as we were told he had another engagement to attend. Seated next to me was a younger woman, clad in ANC regalia.
We struck up a conversation, and she related to me how she intended to join the Johannesburg Bar after her part-time legal studies. As President Ramaphosa was being ushered out of the auditorium by his security cluster, the woman next to me, armed with youthful exuberance, looked in my direction, spontaneously grabbed my hand, and charged towards the president to take a selfie. Before I knew it, the president was stretching his hand out to greet me. My lips moved faster than my brain. ‘Mr President, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Bulelwa Mabasa, attorney, director, and head of Land Reform, Restitution, and Tenure at Werksmans Attorneys. I am delighted to have partcipated in the Land Summit. Please take my card. I am availing myself to assist and contribute my thoughts and experience. There is an urgent need to focus on this issue in a meaningful way.’
The president’s security team was becoming visibly agitated, signalling him to make his exit. Ignoring the pressure, the president looked into my eyes: ‘I know who you are! I have followed and read your work. In fact, I saw your interview the other night on TV. I will be in touch. Thank you for your contribution!’
He was then whisked away. I was indebted to my acquaintance for having nudged me to seize a moment that would change the trajectory of my life, of my career.
Bulelwa Mabasa is an author, attorney, director, and head of the Land Reform, Restitution, and Tenure practice at Werksmans Attorneys.
