There are moments in life when a simple conversation opens a floodgate of buried memories.
That was my experience one afternoon in the office when colleagues began discussing farming — particularly the menace of nsanson and a mysterious plant called ateaa.
To my surprise, a colleague dismissed my contribution, insisting I had never stepped foot on a farm.
Little did he know that long before suits and office desks, I had walked barefoot through thick brushes, encountered snakes, and bent my back over stubborn soil in the scorching sun.
For the benefit of readers who may not know, nsanson (Stinging Nettle/Urtica dioica) and ateaa (Cowhage/Velvet bean/Mucuna pruriens) are infamous plants whose leaves unleash a brutal, itchy-burning sensation when they brush against your skin.
I have tasted the wrath of nsanson many times.
It is terrible — your skin feels like it is on fire, your nerves scream, and every instinct in your body tells you to scratch what you must never scratch.
Yet, ironically, I have never seen ateaa before, nor have I experienced its sting.
But farmers tell me nsanson is nothing — absolutely nothing — compared to ateaa.
Its burning sensation, they say, can humble even the toughest farmhand.
And still, farmers endure this every day.
They walk through thickets of these vicious plants, face stinging rain and scorching sun, trudge through mud, and confront snakes and other reptiles — all just to put food on our tables.
The very least we can do, in honour of their toil, is to ensure the fruits of their labour do not go to waste.
Yes, I may not have grown up as a “farmer” by profession, but I was raised by parents who combined the rigours of teaching with the dignity of farming.
They were strict, committed Presbyterians —”Basel-trained” educators — who believed that no child of theirs would grow up without understanding the value of the land.
They rented homes close to farmlands, not because they needed to, but because farming was a philosophy for them — a practical life subject no school could teach better.
So when issues concerning farmers come up, it is not theory to me. It is lived experience — raw, thorny and unforgettable.
That is why the recent protest by farmers and processors in the five northern regions hit me with painful force.
According to the Wednesday, November 13, 2025 issue of the Daily Graphic, rice farmers, processors, cooperatives, miller, and women grain traders took to the streets of Tamale to draw national attention to the worsening challenges in the grain industry.
They lamented the absence of a ready market, the glut of local produce, the invasion of cheap imports, and the failure of promised purchases of local grains.
Local rice
The picture they painted was tragic. Over a million tonnes of paddy rice worth GH¢5 billion lying unsold in farming communities.
Major millers shutting down because substandard, cheap imports had taken over the shelves. And livelihoods of more than a million farmers hanging by a string.
When I read that grains contribute almost 20 per cent to our national GDP yet the entire value chain is on the verge of collapse, I did not know whether to be sad, angry, or simply ashamed.
Maybe I felt all three. For how long can a nation watch the very hands that feed it bleed?
The Daily Graphic again reported on Thursday, November 13, 2025 that truckloads of onions valued at GH¢3.1 million have gone to waste at the Adjen Kotoku Onion Market in Accra.
Yet again, along the Tema-Sogakope road one would come across huge pile-ups of watermelon that get rotten.
Ghana is 68 years old as an independent country. In that time, other nations — Japan, Singapore, South Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong have moved from developing to developed status.
We, on the other hand, still behave as though storing excess food is some kind of advanced science.
As though no one told us that bumper harvests require preparation, not panic.
Even more heartbreaking is the fact that nearly six decades ago, President Kwame Nkrumah built massive silos outside the Tema Harbour and in other parts of the country specifically to store strategic grain reserves. Successive governments have added some silos too.
So how is it that in 2025, our farmers are crying because they have too much food?
What happened to our planning? To our systems? To our priorities?
Yet amid the frustration, a glimmer of hope emerges.
President John Dramani Mahama’s launch of the Nkoko Nketenkete initiative aimed at distributing three million birds nationwide to benefit 60,000 households is a bold step toward reviving the poultry sector.
It is innovative, ambitious, and capable of injecting life into rural economies if properly driven.
My only concern, and a genuine one, is how effectively the team around the President will execute this flagship programme. Because the President’s intentions are clearly good, and any fair-minded observer cannot miss that.
He deserves the support necessary to turn those intentions into concrete transformation.
Some assurances
The recently presented budget also provides some reassurance particularly its recognition of the urgent need to address postharvest losses.
The government’s decision to purchase excess produce and channel part of it into school feeding programmes is commendable.
The pledge to operationalise Farmer Service Centres with machinery and technical support is a long-overdue intervention that can significantly ease farmers’ burdens.
A crucial component of the budget was Dr Ato Forson’s announcement of an immediate GH¢200 million allocation to the National Buffer Stock Company.
This is intended to mop up surplus grains and protect farmers’ investments.
Farmers across the country will welcome this with relief.
But I cannot help asking a difficult question: Why must farmers first protest before we act?
Do we not have a system to monitor agricultural output and forecast bumper harvests? Must we always wait for crises before moving?
Ghana is not poor in ideas.
We are rich in vision, rich in policies, rich in pilot projects, and rich in promises.
What we are poor in — painfully poor — is consistency and implementation.
Yet I believe, like many Ghanaians do, that our nation can rise.
We have a President who has shown the willingness to act.
A budget that attempts to provide direction.
And farmers whose resilience, despite their suffering, continues to feed this nation.
But we must proceed with cautious optimism.
This is not the first time a "hopeful budget" has been read, nor the first time great agricultural promises have been made.
What matters now is action — bold, unrelenting, coordinated action.
Ghana’s farmers deserve more than applause.
They deserve a system that works after 68 years of independence.
Happy Farmers Day in advance.
The writer is the Night Editor of the Daily Graphic
