Farming should be safe, but in Nigeria it can be deadly.
It’s so dangerous, in fact, that a report released on June 15 by an all-party parliamentary group in the United Kingdom asks a provocative question in its title: “Nigeria: Unfolding Genocide?“
Thousands of Nigerian farmers are murdered each year, according to human-right groups such as Amnesty International-and all we want to do is protect our land so that we can grow the crops our families need and our country requires.
As a rice farmer in Nigeria, I’ve seen this problem up close-and I’m trying to solve it with technology.
The Middle Belt is home to some of the richest farmland in Africa, but we fail to realize its full potential for dozens of reasons, including an inadequate infrastructure, a lack of investment, and systems of production that have yet to enter the 21st century.
Worst of all, however, is the violence that comes when an irresistible force meets an immovable object.
Rotimi Williams and a Fulani herder.
The irresistible force is made up of Fulani herders. Each winter, during the dry season, they leave the Sahel region of Africa in search of new grazing pastures. They bring their cattle into Nigeria’s agricultural zones. That’s where they meet the immovable object of Nigerian farmers.
Clashes are inevitable.
Many people outside of Nigeria interpret the broader conflict as primarily religious. The Fulani are Muslim and most of the farmers in this part of Nigeria are Christian. While it’s true that the fighting can take on religious dimensions-we’ve witnessed radical Islamic groups such as Boko Haram terrorizing Christians-it really comes down to a quarrel over access to the limited resource of land.
Climate change has made the tensions even worse. Because the grasslands of the Sahel are turning more arid, the Fulani are driving their cattle further south and staying longer than they once did.
And the deepest cause of all may be poverty, which people in the developed world often fail to understand. They wonder why anybody would battle to the death over access to fish ponds, which is a routine occurrence in the struggles between farmers and herders. The truth is that the rich don’t want to die-but the poor have nothing to live for, and they’re more willing to risk or even lose their lives.
Whatever the sources of the mayhem, Nigerians must find creative ways to stop it. We can’t achieve genuine food security unless we reduce the violence.
Today, the app’s main feature is a panic button. When farmers feel threatened, they push it. This alerts the local police and military, who can jump into action. It urges hospitals to prepare for casualties.
In time, the app will morph into a rural farmer economic development tool. With data on everything from maps of farms to grazing routes, we’ll build a body of information that will help us shift from a period of conflict to a period of conflict resolution. For instance, making it easier for farmers to secure insurance policies. They’re a standard feature of agriculture in the developing world, but rare in Nigeria-and to become better farmers, we need a robust market for insurance.
As we’ve released Resolute 4.0, we’ve hardly wiped out the violence-but I’m convinced that we’ve saved lives.
The next step is to put the app into as many hands as possible.
Farming everywhere involves risks, from the uncertainties of the weather to the menace of weeds and pests. But you shouldn’t have to risk your life to grow crops. With the smart application of new technologies, we may make farming a little bit safer and food security a realistic goal.