By Jonathan Jibrin
There was a time when the mention of Igala land evoked the image of endless farmlands, overflowing barns, and hardworking farmers. Agriculture was not merely an occupation; it was our identity, our heritage, and the foundation of our economy.
From Ibaji to Dekina, from Omala to Ankpa, from Olamaboro to Ofu, from Idah to Bassa, farming was a way of life. Every household cultivated one crop or another. Every community had vast farmlands. Hunger was uncommon because our people produced what they ate and ate what they produced.
It was this enormous agricultural potential that attracted one of the most significant agricultural interventions in Nigeria’s history—the World Bank-supported Ayangba Agricultural Development Project (AADP). The project revolutionised agriculture in Igala land through extension services, improved seedlings, subsidised fertilisers, animal husbandry, veterinary services, and rural development programmes. Farmers received regular training, modern farming techniques were introduced, and agricultural productivity increased significantly.
Beyond government intervention, private agricultural investments also flourished across Igala land.
Who can forget the famous Ojedegbe Farms at Ikefi? The Ochala, Odawn Farms at Egume, Abowa Farms, Alfa Farms, which became household names in commercial agriculture? The Achema Farms at Ofokopi, which provided employment and boosted local food production? Or the ambitious AMC Farms at Ojuwo Ocha, an agricultural venture promoted by General T. Y. Danjuma (Rtd) and anchored by the renowned agricultural expert, Dr. Emmanuel Onucheyo?
The Arewa Textile Farm around Abejukolo was into large-scale cotton farming.An initiative of the industrialist, late Chief PS Achimugu.
These were not ordinary farms. They represented hope, enterprise, innovation, and the promise that agriculture could create wealth while feeding our people. Many of these farmers became owners of Mercedes lorries (911) and ventured into the business of haulage.
Sadly, today, they have all become shadows of what they once were. Most have gone moribund, leaving behind abandoned fields and memories of better days.
Sadly, that glorious era is gradually fading into history.
Today, one disturbing reality confronts us: Igala land is steadily losing its status as one of Nigeria’s food-producing regions.
The rapid expansion of cash crop farming, especially cashew cultivation, has transformed our agricultural landscape. Vast portions of fertile land that once produced yam, cassava, maize, beans, guinea corn, vegetables, and other staple foods are now occupied almost entirely by cashew plantations.
There is no denying the economic value of cashew. It has empowered many families and improved livelihoods. That achievement deserves recognition.
But no society can survive on cash crops alone.
Money can not be eaten.
People who abandon food production eventually become dependent on others for their daily survival.
Today, many households in Igala land buy virtually every food item they consume throughout the year. Apart from the resilient farming communities of Ibaji, renowned for their rice and yam production, much of the food consumed across Kogi East now comes from outside our land.
Perhaps the most painful irony is what we now witness across many of our communities.
As insecurity and bandit attacks have displaced farming communities in parts of neighbouring states, many hardworking farmers have relocated into Igala land in search of safety and fertile land. They have put these lands to productive use, cultivating the food crops that fill our markets.
There is nothing wrong with anyone seeking refuge or earning an honest living through farming. Indeed, our culture has always welcomed peaceful coexistence and hospitality.
What should concern us, however, is that while others are making productive use of our fertile land, many of our own people have gradually withdrawn from food production. The painful irony is that we increasingly depend on food produced on lands we once cultivated ourselves.
This should awaken us.
Our fertile land has not failed us.
Our climate has not failed us.
Our rivers have not dried up.
What has declined is our collective commitment to agriculture.
The decline extends beyond crop farming. There was a time when households commonly reared goats, sheep, poultry, and livestock, which served as food, income, and insurance against difficult times. Today, domestic animal rearing is steadily disappearing from many communities, reducing household nutrition and economic resilience.
Food security is not merely an agricultural issue; it is a matter of economic independence, social stability, and human dignity.
The global food crisis, rising inflation, insecurity, and climate change have all demonstrated that no society should depend almost entirely on others to feed its people.
This trend must be reversed.
The Kogi State Agricultural Development Project (ADP) must be repositioned to once again become the engine of agricultural transformation in Kogi East. Extension officers should return to our communities. Farmers should have access to improved seedlings, quality livestock breeds, subsidised fertilisers, veterinary services, affordable credit, and mechanised farming support.
The government alone can not do it. Traditional rulers, community leaders, religious institutions, cooperatives, and youth organisations must lead a new agricultural renaissance. Farming must once again become a source of pride and prosperity.
Every family should be encouraged to cultivate food crops. Every community should promote livestock production. Every young person should see agriculture not as the occupation of the poor but as the enterprise of the future.
Our forefathers handed over to us fertile land that fed generations.
They left us rivers that never ran dry.
They built an economy rooted in the soil.
The responsibility of preserving that legacy now rests with us.
History will ask one simple question:
How did a people blessed with some of the most fertile land in Nigeria become dependent on others for the food on their tables?
May our answer be found, not in excuses, but in a determined return to the farms.
The time to act is now.
