Spare a thought for farmers in white highlands

There is something therapeutic about visiting the countryside. It reminds us of our roots.

The shaggs, with no parks in the city, can be our park, you can breathe, avoid the choking exhaust, noise and meet innocent people; often familiar from relatives to neighbours you have known all your life. 

 More importantly, in shaggs, you meet the reality, not textbooks. You see the start of the supply chains. In the city, we see the end.

You can milk a cow, not buy packaged milk. You can see potatoes flowering, not chips. You can see a river, not bottled water. You can see trees, not furniture.  You can see life as nature intended. 

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In shaggs, you see genuine efforts that individuals make to earn an honest living under the mercy of nature. No wonder religion is so powerful in the shaggs. You need faith that it will rain and someone will buy your fresh produce. 

On my recent visit to the white highlands, I came face to face farmer‘s predicament; hailstones.

The specific place visited is not disclosed for security reasons. We know drought and floods. What of hailstones that tear off the leaves of maize, potatoes and even napier grass? Some fruits, such as plums, had their flowers shredded by hailstones.

Lack of rain kills crops. What of hailstones? In the past, as we grew up, frost or sub-zero temperatures destroyed crops and made visitors‘ faces darken and “peel off.”

Temperatures below 10 degrees Celsius are common in the white highlands. It’s no wonder mzungus loved the place, building mansions that are now getting rivals as land prices push Karen and Runda to the countryside. 

Farmers are helpless against the forces of nature. No wonder few youngsters want to be farmers. That’s why governments support farmers for national pride and food security.

Yet and sadly, farmers are at the lowest level in the financing chain. I even found that hides from cows or sheep are thrown away in the white highlands. No market, I was told.

It’s time the government, the financiers, voters and even academics spent more time at the start of the supply chains, focusing on small-scale farmers and correcting market failures.

Are you a small-scale farmer? How have nature and man conspired against you? Talk to us.

Follow The Standard
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on WhatsApp

There is something therapeutic about visiting the countryside. It reminds us of our roots.

The shaggs, with no parks in the city, can be our park, you can breathe, avoid the choking exhaust, noise and meet innocent people; often familiar from relatives to neighbours you have known all your life. 

 More importantly, in shaggs, you meet the reality, not textbooks. You see the start of the supply chains. In the city, we see the end.
You can milk a cow, not buy packaged milk. You can see potatoes flowering, not chips. You can see a river, not bottled water. You can see trees, not furniture.  You can see life as nature intended. 

Follow The Standard
channel
on WhatsApp

In shaggs, you see genuine efforts that individuals make to earn an honest living under the mercy of nature. No wonder religion is so powerful in the shaggs. You need faith that it will rain and someone will buy your fresh produce. 
On my recent visit to the white highlands, I came face to face farmer‘s predicament; hailstones.

The specific place visited is not disclosed for security reasons. We know drought and floods. What of hailstones that tear off the leaves of maize, potatoes and even napier grass? Some fruits, such as plums, had their flowers shredded by hailstones.

Lack of rain kills crops. What of hailstones? In the past, as we grew up, frost or sub-zero temperatures destroyed crops and made visitors‘ faces darken and “peel off.”
Temperatures below 10 degrees Celsius are common in the white highlands. It’s no wonder mzungus loved the place, building mansions that are now getting rivals as land prices push Karen and Runda to the countryside. 

Farmers are helpless against the forces of nature. No wonder few youngsters want to be farmers. That’s why governments support farmers for national pride and food security.
Yet and sadly, farmers are at the lowest level in the financing chain. I even found that hides from cows or sheep are thrown away in the white highlands. No market, I was told.

It’s time the government, the financiers, voters and even academics spent more time at the start of the supply chains, focusing on small-scale farmers and correcting market failures.

Are you a small-scale farmer? How have nature and man conspired against you? Talk to us.

Follow The Standard
channel
on WhatsApp