I recently wrote about veld fires and the devastating consequences they have for farmers. Many of these fires are believed to be started deliberately, often by people hunting with dogs who burn the veld to make it easier to catch their prey. Whether they realise the damage they cause or simply do not care, the outcome is always the same: Farmers lose livestock, infrastructure and the grazing they depend on to carry their animals through to the next rainy season.
By Lebogang Mashala, Editor at African Farming
Wildfires are a growing global challenge, but South Africa faces a particularly alarming crisis. Fire Protection Associations (FPAs) have repeatedly warned that the country’s ability to prevent and combat veld fires is being undermined by declining government support.
According to the North West Department of Agriculture and Rural Development’s report on the 2024 fire season, the province experienced “unprecedented devastation”. More than 424 000 hectares were destroyed, with cumulative and long-term economic losses estimated at more than R3.03 billion. The fires ravaged agricultural land, displaced communities, claimed human and animal lives, destroyed infrastructure and vehicles, and raised serious concerns about food security.
Also read: From our editor: Winter’s silent war on South African farmers
When tragedy becomes personal
Just days after writing that column, tragedy struck much closer to home.
A veld fire swept through my own place, destroying most of my irrigation pipes and leaving behind damage that will take considerable time and money to repair. I still do not know whether the fire was deliberately started or whether I simply became another victim of circumstance. Either way, the loss is deeply painful.
After sharing my experience, I was overwhelmed by messages from farmers across the country recounting their own experiences. Some had lost grazing that would have sustained their livestock through winter. Others had watched animals perish or seen years of investment disappear in a matter of hours. Their stories were heartbreaking, but they also revealed just how widespread this crisis has become.
Also read: How to assess and treat livestock after a veld fire
Looking beyond government
For years, we have understandably directed much of our frustration towards government. Farmers have every reason to question the lack of investment in fire prevention, the limited resources available to Fire Protection Associations and the inadequate relief provided to victims of veld fires.
Those concerns remain valid.
However, as more reports reached me, I was confronted by an uncomfortable reality: Perhaps we also need to examine our own role in this crisis.
This is not about absolving government of its responsibilities. Rather, it is about recognising that not every fire starts because of weak policy or insufficient resources. Some fires begin because ordinary people make careless or deliberate decisions that destroy the livelihoods of others.
I recently watched a video shared in a farmer group from my home village in which someone reported witnessing another farmer allegedly setting the veld alight. At that moment, I realised this is about far more than disaster management. It speaks to something fundamentally wrong in our behaviour as citizens and neighbours.
Also read: Increase in veld fires threatens food prices and farm production costs
A crisis of values
One response to my social media post captured this reality in a way that has stayed with me. A friend wrote:
“South Africa is a nation of arsonists. I stayed in Botswana for three years. The land there is driest during winter, but you’ll never see veld fires like we do in South Africa. I guess citizens of Botswana have a better appreciation for grass because it provides feed for their cattle. Note that almost every Lesego, Tumi and Nkareng has cattle or a relative who owns cattle. Sharp contrast to the situation here at home where only a handful of people own animals.”
Whether one agrees entirely with his assessment or not, his observation raises an important question: Have we, as a society, lost our appreciation for the value of grass and the livelihoods it supports?
Grass is not merely dry vegetation waiting to burn. It is livestock feed. It is income. It is food security. It is school fees. It is the foundation upon which many farming businesses survive. Every hectare lost represents months, sometimes years, of hard work reduced to ash.
Building instead of destroying
This conversation is particularly important for black farming communities. Across the country, thousands of first-generation farmers are working tirelessly to build viable agricultural businesses under often difficult circumstances. Every breeding cow lost, every fence destroyed and every hectare of grazing burnt makes that journey even harder.
We cannot champion agricultural transformation while tolerating behaviour that undermines those who are trying to succeed.
Government must certainly strengthen fire prevention programmes, invest in Fire Protection Associations and provide meaningful disaster relief.
But government cannot stop someone from striking a match. That responsibility belongs to all of us.
We need communities that report arson instead of protecting offenders. We need traditional leaders, municipalities, schools, churches and community organisations to educate people about the devastating consequences of veld fires. We need every South African to understand that protecting our natural resources is not solely the responsibility of government – it is a shared responsibility.
As black South Africans, we have a responsibility to do better. We cannot build our communities by destroying each other’s livelihoods. Every fire has consequences. Every loss pushes a family backwards. Every act of arson delays the progress we all claim to seek.
If we truly want to leave a stronger agricultural sector for future generations, protecting our land must become a shared commitment.
Because every hectare we save today is an investment in tomorrow’s harvest.
Also read:
When municipalities fail, farmers pay the price
Turning youth potential into agricultural success
Policy continuity matters more than political personalities
