Food Sovereignty: moving from theory to practice
Part 2. Learning From Farmers in Guinea-Bissau
March 1st, Guinea-Bissau
After goodbyes and a quiet drive back to Bamako, I board the plane for Bissau where I will meet with staff from Tiniguena, an organization Inter Pares has worked with since 1993. Tiniguena - essa terra e nossa ("this land is ours") works with rural and urban communities to conserve the country's biodiversity, and to ensure that natural resources are used for the benefit of those who live there. Through tireless effort, Tiniguena managed to create important protected areas in Guinea-Bissau's delicate coastal ecosystems. It has also worked with farmers to encourage agro-ecology and to recuperate and promote sustainable farming practices in a country ravaged by civil war.
Only a short distance west of Mali, Guinea-Bissau feels like a world away. In this small emerald-green country, I am greeted in Portuguese by Nelson Gomez, a Guinean agronomist who is the coordinator of Tiniguena's agricultural work. Nelson has also just recently returned from Nyéléni. Sharing a cold drink, we are both curious to learn from each other's experiences. Nelson recounts passionately how farmers from Asia, Latin America and Africa exchanged experiences on a wealth of ecological farming practices. He learned how in India, farmers cover their seeds with neem leaves to prevent pests from eating them. The neem leaves, which contain a natural insect repellent, are also rendered into a mixture that is sprayed unto crops. Nelson says there are many neem trees in Guinea-Bissau, but that this practice is not known here.
Guinean farmer holding a local variety of pigeon pea.
Nelson is worried about the rapid loss of seeds occurring in West Africa. During workshops where different seeds would be presented, farmers would often say, "Yes, years ago, we used to cultivate this variety or that one." The farmers also discussed genetically modified seeds, what farmers in Guinea-Bissau call sementera bidado - which literally means "impostor seeds," or "seeds whose nature has changed." According to Nelson, as genetically modified seeds replace farmers' local varieties, the seed and the knowledge of this seed is lost. In the future, he says, this will be a problem as they will have to depend on others for seeds and they will also have to purchase fertilizers and pesticides. Nelson believes a way to fight against this threat is for farmers to understand the consequences of farming GMOs, and to try to recover farmers' varieties, multiply, and continue to grow them.
March 2nd, on the way to Canthanez
The next day, I travel with Augusta Henriques, the director of Tiniguena, from Bissau south to Canthanez, a region that lies on the border with Guinea-Conakry. Sitting in the back of a truck on a bumpy road that cuts across ancient forests, Augusta explains that Canthanez is a very special part of Guinea-Bissau. There is a strong sense of resolve and autonomy in the region, and the people here have also developed very sophisticated agriculture. With the breakout of civil war in 1998, however, much of this was disrupted, and farmers began practicing slash-and-burn agriculture. Tiniguena is working with these farmers to remember and recover sustainable practices that do not encroach on the forest. They are also working with local farmers to recover varieties of rice that have been forgotten or lost. So far, twelve varieties have been recovered and are now being multiplied and redistributed to farmers.
March 3rd meeting with farmers in Canthanez
In the morning we walk to a small farm surrounded by giant trees. A woman shows us the rice seeds that she keeps in her granary. She names them as cablack, soron, n'pas, som, atahan, yaca, and n'conto. All these rice varieties have a different taste, we are told. Some varieties grow faster than others; some are planted in rain-fed areas, whereas others are salt-tolerant and are planted in mangrove areas.
She explains to us the importance of having a diversity of seeds, as rain patterns have changed in recent decades. "Compared to my grandfather's time, it does not rain as much and the soil does not retain much of the rain, so we are cultivating another variety of rice, one that grows more quickly."
From the farm we travel to a nearby town to visit a banco do cereal, or community grain bank. Many different varieties of rice are stored here. As Nelson explains, the grain bank serves as both a store for food in case of hunger, and as a dynamic gene bank. Each year, farmers borrow seed from the grain bank and return a portion of their harvest. As opposed to a traditional seed bank that stores seeds indefinitely, these seeds are preserved but are still used by farmers and thus continue to evolve in their local context, and through selection and breeding, new varieties are developed.
March 4th: Building appreciation for farmers' varieties
In the town of Cabedu, farmers are gathered as Augusta and Nelson facilitate a discussion. Using photos that depict the richness of plant diversity, crops, and foods, they ask farmers to reflect on what their seeds mean to them. Some farmers mention commercials they have seen on television or heard on the radio about the merits of imported seeds and fertilizers.
Augusta brings the discussion back to the basic principle of control. Using India as an example, she explains how cotton farmers who abandoned their own seeds for imported genetically modified seeds have suffered devastating losses: the cotton has not produced; the soil has lost its productivity; and the uncultivated plants that served as an important basis for nutrition and fodder for animals have disappeared with the application of herbicides. Crippled by debt, tens of thousands of farmers in India have committed suicide by ingesting their own pesticides. "This is why it is so important for you to control your own seeds and continue to eat your own foods," Augusta says.
| Reviewed July 31, 2009 |  |
Publishing Policies |
