United they stand

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United they stand

IF there is one heart-warming thing that The Fiji Times team discovered during a survey of the sugarcane growing area over the past few weeks, it is this.

Apart from a few isolated incidents of disputes, there is a sense of brotherhood and unity within canegrowing families and communities that is refreshing and a reminder of how Fiji used to be in days gone by. During the survey in Rakiraki, we heard stories of how canefarming families still used the barter system — if one planted root-crops and another went out fishing, an exchange would be done which resulted in both being able to enjoy hearty and wholesome meals.

In flood-prone parts of Tavua, neighbouring farmers worked together to move livestock, household goods and family members to higher grounds when heavy downpour threatened to break river banks.

In Ba and Lautoka, farmers harvest each others’ cane and even share a tractor to ensure more cane is cut and transported.

Farmers who had plenty shared with those who were in need and there was an unspoken sense of gratitude that reverberated throughout the cane belt.

Even within farming families, the extent that children went out of their way to find work outside of cane farming to bring much-needed cash and groceries home and pay the bills was refreshing.

And then there were stories told by struggling canegrowers who were lucky enough to go abroad and forge a new life for themselves. Even though they had shaken the cane dust off their feet, many did not forget their humble beginnings and often sent money to relatives looking after the family cane farm. Rishi Prasad is one of those who had to tend to his family’s 21-acre farm at Naisoso, Nadi.

“They went overseas and gave us the farm to look after — they are lucky, but we are the lucky ones too because we have a house to live in and planting cane gives us something to do,” the 80-year-old said.

Mr Prasad has been planting sugarcane for 60 years. He said about two decades ago, he was part of a 14-member gang. Today he is one of four left cultivating cane.

“We used to produce more than 2000 tonnes here, but as the price kept going down, people started leaving. Most of the land here is freehold, a lot of farmers began subdividing and selling land because it became very hard to survive on canefarming alone.”

His son, Sarwan Kumar, helps him on the farm and he says the industry has taken a nosedive over the past four years.

“What we spend on labour, transport, fertiliser and chemicals makes it very difficult to make a profit,” the 53-year-old said.

As united as they are in raising concerns about the same issues —— cane price, labour shortage, cane payment system, transport costs and rising land rent — they are also united in the view that the industry has a future if things are changed for the better and if they are allowed to participate in the decision-making in areas that affect them the most.