Tag: Aga Khan Foundation

To Farm or Flee

The Climate Challenge Facing Syria’s Farmers

Rezak al Said pulls on a water pipe leading down to his well. Suddenly, there’s noise. A thrum of feathers flapping. Some birds burst out of the well, chirping as they pass. We smile. But Rezak’s situation is worrying. His well has been empty for months. “We never felt heat like this,” he says. “The area is becoming a desert. We are at a point of no return.” 

This year, Syria has faced a historic water and food security crisis. The livelihoods of 14.5 million people – two thirds of the country’s population – were threatened by reportedly the worst drought in over 60 years. With international efforts supporting the new transitional government, there are signs of hope. But the challenge is immense. 

“We used to have cows, sheep, turkey, duck, pigeon, vegetables, wheat and herbs,” says Rezak. “Then circumstances forced us to change.” He talks about the war, the extreme heatwave and the drought. Rezak has stopped trying to grow wheat himself, leasing out his land to others, and losing money in the process. Now he has sold off nearly all his poultry and livestock, including 230 sheep. With his grey hair and haggard face, Rezak seems older than his 47 years.

Rezak’s farm is in Jadoua village, a scattering of houses 20 km northeast of Salamieh, in Hama Governorate, central Syria. The landscape is flat and bone-dry; a patchwork of sand-coloured plots and occasional olive groves. It’s late afternoon when I visit, and the temperature has climbed above 40° Celsius.

Syria’s unbearably hot summers are being exacerbated by climate change. Since 1901, annual temperatures in Syria have increased by about 2°C, nearly 1 degree higher than the global average. By the end of this century, temperatures are projected to be as much as 6 °C higher compared with current levels.

Around the villages I visit, people remember greener times. Outside Lemsaraa, Hasan Yaghi recalled hyenas and deer roaming the land. Fadel Istanbuli described two streams near Bargan, as well as vineyards and abundant food. As a child, he would go for walks through natural forests of saf saf (willow) and zeuzafoon (linden). “It was like a heaven,” he said, raising his hands to the sky.

So much has changed. Under the Assad governments, intensive irrigation and thirsty cash crops like cotton were introduced, depleting the country’s groundwater. Today, Syria’s extreme heat means higher rates of water evaporation. With limited law enforcement, groundwater resources are being overexploited throughout the country. Illegal wells are everywhere. Annual average rainfall is expected to diminish by 11 percent over the next three decades. The outlook is desperate. Though some communities are trying to adapt to these challenges.

Aymen Qasem is wading waist-high through a sea of pepper plants. They grow voluminously in a 50-metre long polytunnel greenhouse. He starts picking the bright green fruits. Soon, there are too many to hold. Grinning, he offers me a handful.

Aymen is based in Taldara, located between Hama and Salamieh. Along with 7,000 other farmers in Syria, Aymen and his cooperative are being supported by the Aga Khan Foundation (AKF) with various assets and skills. In addition to the greenhouse, they now use solar power to pump water from a well, as well as drip irrigation and organic fertiliser. “Greenhouses are the future”, Aymen says, “they reduce heat and retain moisture”. I can see the benefits: the pepper plants inside the polytunnel are twice as tall as those in a field outside, yet they only require half the amount of water.

The Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) is working with the government to restore over 45,000 hectares of irrigation systems across Syria, helping nearly 70,000 households have access to water. Picture networks of canals once again channelling water into farming areas. “We have seen increases in cultivated land and improvements in food security,” says Jameson Zvizvai, the FAO project manager. His colleague, irrigation specialist Wael Al Derwish, adds that these measures have reduced tensions over water in areas such as Aleppo Governorate.  

The FAO project, funded by the UK, is also providing trainings, cash vouchers for agro-processing activities and stronger early warning systems. These activities are supporting tens of thousands of farmers across Aleppo, Deir-ez-Zor, Idlib, Hama, Homs, Latakia and rural Damascus. “The project is really a beacon of hope,” says Jameson.

Syria’s government is being supported by other organisations, like the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), on water and energy. President al-Sharaa’s nascent administration is also trying to tackle overexploitation of water reserves by amending legislation. But after the 14-year civil war, sanctions and a devastating recent earthquake, the Syrian state is at ground zero. To address the needs will take decades. There is little time.

Many are fleeing the countryside. “Migration is a hot topic,” says Ziad Ghaibor, from Al Qareb, east of Salamieh. “Our nightmare is that the situation continues like this year. If so, I think maybe a third of the village will leave in the next two years.”

Towards the end of my time with Rezak, we discuss the future and what hope there is for his children. I ask him a question: what helps him escape the stress. He falls silent. Then he pinches his nose. I realise he is crying.

To clear the air, we go out into Rezak’s back yard. His pigeon tower, with pipes splayed out from conical earthen walls, glows orange against the setting sun. Inside the tower, Rezak gathers up a slender white pigeon. Its breast bulges in his firm hand. He smiles.

I wonder now, if his pigeons, capable of flight and oblivious to the human condition, were the answer to my question.

From Hunger to Hope

Kenya’s transition to sustainable food production

Farmer PETER IRUNGU JOROGE, 52, adds his home-made compost into the soil on his crop-growing plot in Muranga County, central rural Kenya, June 28, 2023. © AKDN/Georgina Goodwin

Justus Ndemwa is sitting on an empty plastic water canister. He looks away. His voice is soft and faltering. “For five years the rains have failed,” he says. Some days, the 72-year-old, who suffers from anaemia, eats only rice or beans. He is not alone. Now because of the high cost of food and the impacts of climate change, millions of Kenyans face hunger every day. As the situation persists, something, surely, has to change.

Ndemwa and his three children live in a brick and mud hut no larger than a double bed in a field a few miles from Kauwi town in Kitui County. The landscape is sparse: the odd failed corn field, thorny scrub and patches of dry grass. The family lives largely off handouts from people in Kauwi. Ndemwa is waiting for cash transfers from the World Food Programme. Otherwise, he prays. “I pray so much,” he says, “more than five times a day.”

Increasing numbers of people in Kenya are experiencing hunger, partly because of food shortages and prices being far above their five-year average. In addition to the lack of supply, food price rises are also due to the lingering effects of the COVID-19 pandemic, which caused labour shortages and constrained supply chains. On top of this, the war between Russia and Ukraine thwarted fertiliser supplies. It also prompted countries to impose food export controls. Energy price volatility has also created problems for farmers globally.

In this choppy geopolitical context, some agribusinesses in Kenya are buffering farmers’ risks while maintaining food production. One of the largest exporters of green beans to Europe, Frigoken, for example, has for decades created contracts with each of the tens of thousands of smallholders growing the crops. Well before the harvest, the company agrees on a pre-set price with each farmer for their beans, thereby assuring them a reliable market. Frigoken helps the farmers access inputs like fertiliser on a credit basis. It also exposes the growers to technical knowledge through training programmes delivered by extension workers. As such, both the farmers and the company boost their yields and income.

In his lush plot in Muranga County, surrounded by banana and eucalyptus trees, Peter Joroge shares his success growing beans with Frigoken for the past decade: “In the beginning,” he says, “I would get 80 to 100 kg per unit annually. But it has gradually increased to 200 kg per unit. I wish my parents had farmed the way I do,” he adds, “because I would have gone to school for longer.”

As well as supporting them with growing cash crops, Frigoken also helps farmers produce staples such as maize for their own consumption. This strengthens smallholders’ household food security alongside their longer-term viability as food producers.

At the Frigoken processing factory in Nairobi, meanwhile, 85 percent of the workforce is women. Staff receive decent pay, health care and pension plans. There’s even a crèche. Contrary to perceptions of corporate agribusinesses exploiting workers to maximise profits, Frigoken supports them and incurs their risk while delivering a commercial return.

Yet beyond the fallout of the pandemic and the Ukraine war, there’s another factor causing hunger in Kenya: climate change. According to data shared by the Kenyan meteorological department, average annual temperatures in Kitui County have risen by 1.9°C over the past 40 years. That’s more than double the global average. Combine this heat with a prolonged lack of rainfall and no wonder crops are struggling to grow.

According to the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC) analysis covering the period between March and June 2023, there were 5.4 million “acutely food insecure” people in Kenya.  These people would often go a day or more without eating anything at all. The main cause was drought; in the worst areas, the rains had failed for at least four successive years. This is why the number of people facing such severe hunger had risen steadily since 2020.

In this desperate situation, farmers, technocrats and politicians must respond to environmental as well as financial challenges. Fortunately, some initiatives offer hope.

Rosemary Waweru is hoisting a four-metre-high stick into the foliage of a colossal avocado tree. Soon they begin to fall. Thump. Thump. In less than a minute, eight oval fruits have thudded to the ground. She gathers them into a pile, smiling. As large as ostrich eggs, their skins gleam emerald green.

The buxom 62-year-old manages her own three-acre farm in Kiamuchwe, a village in Kirinyaga County. The countryside is dense with plots of maize, peas, barley and wheat as well as cash crops like avocados, mangoes and bananas.

Waweru is now crafting her own natural plant-based pesticide as well as a fertiliser made by fermenting chicken feathers in water. She has adopted these practices through the Maendeleo project, a pilot launched in 2022 as a collaboration between the Aga Khan Foundation (AKF) and Frigoken. In switching from chemical to organic, Waweru’s methods are improving her soil, plant and native species health.

“Regenerative agriculture is about giving back to the soil,” says Leigh Winowiecki, a soil scientist at CIFOR-ICRAF in Nairobi. “For far too long, we have been taking soil for granted. We need to think of soil as our bank account, we cannot continue to draw from it without giving back.”

In Kenya, the Maendeleo project is giving back. At a national scale, the practices adopted by farmers like Waweru could regenerate entire ecosystems and regulate the water cycle. They can also mitigate greenhouse gas emissions: by dropping chemical inputs, the Kenyan is also helping to reduce the emissions that occur from the manufacture and transport of these synthetic products.

Waweru’s new farming practices are not just greener; they’re also more productive. Her trees have gone from producing an average of 250 avocados each year to over 350 today. Better still, now that she produces them naturally, she sells them for up to double the amount she could before.

In less than two years, Maendeleo has had extraordinary results: average maize yields amongst the initial 2,500 farmers targeted in Kirinyaga and Embu counties have grown by 30 percent, while coffee production has jumped by 60 percent. Farming ecosystems are flourishing.

The farmers under the pilot have virtually no input costs anymore. This is the main reason why they’re saving around 20 percent on bills for each crop cycle. Another saving comes from fewer medical bills. Before going organic, many farmers were visiting clinics regularly to treat illnesses caused by exposure to synthetic pesticides.            

Regenerative agriculture is healing bodies as well as the land. It is cheaper for farmers and potentially more productive. Maendeleo is now attracting “huge” interest from research institutions, donors and the private sector, says Didier Van Bignoot, the AKF global advisor in sustainable agriculture, food security and climate resilience. Over the coming years, it plans to reach three million smallholder farmers in Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda.

Yet the road to end hunger is long. Millions of Kenyans are suffering every day. Tackling such widespread deprivation requires decades-long investments into the building blocks of society: education, health, infrastructure and social protection. But agriculture, too, matters. As Peter Joroge implied, good farming has always been central to development.

As I write this, some months after visiting Kenya, I remember my impressions from that final day visiting Kitui County. Herders leading bony cattle along dirt tracks. Threadbare fields of maize. Clouds overhead, but no rain. Most of all, that conversation with Justus Ndemwa. It was so muted. Words seemed pointless.

Though some extraordinary initiatives are changing things on the ground. Regenerating ecosystems and sustaining livelihoods, they are helping food systems to flourish. Donors, government and business need to get behind them. Not with more words, though; with action.   

Published in the Telegraph and Aga Khan Development Network on World Food Day, 16 October 2023.