The quiet extinction of Nigerian farmer

Nigeria may soon discover, too late, that the collapse of farming is not merely an agricultural problem but a national emergency capable of deepening poverty, insecurity and social instability across the country. What is happening today in the agricultural sector, particularly in northern Nigeria, should alarm every serious policymaker because the nation is gradually weakening the very people responsible for feeding over 200 million citizens. Across the North, farming is not simply an occupation. It is the economic foundation of millions of households and the backbone of rural survival. In states such as Katsina, Zamfara, Kaduna, Kano, Jigawa, Sokoto and Kebbi, agriculture sustains entire communities. Yet the Nigerian farmer today faces perhaps the harshest environment in modern history: insecurity on the farms, unbearable production costs, unstable government policies, collapsing market prices and growing uncertainty about the future. The federal government’s decision to open borders and encourage large-scale grain importation as a response to rising food inflation may have appeared compassionate on paper, but its impact on local farmers has been devastating. Farmers who borrowed heavily to cultivate rice, maize, millet and sorghum suddenly found themselves competing against imported grains entering the market under arrangements many Nigerians still do not fully understand. One of the most troubling aspects of the policy remains the lack of transparency surrounding the importation programme itself. Nigerians deserve to know who imported the grains, the exact quantities involved, the prices paid and the subsidy arrangements attached. To hand over the importation of millions of tonnes of grains to selected contractor/contractors without full public scrutiny is, to say the least, reckless in a country already battling trust deficits and economic hardship. Public suspicion deepened further when imported rice was reportedly rebagged with the portrait and insignia of the President before distribution across parts of the country as relief material. In several communities, citizens openly questioned whether food policy was gradually becoming an instrument of political branding rather than a genuine strategy for sustainable food security. Even more disturbing are widespread allegations that portions of the same grains later resurfaced in markets under different commercial labels for resale to the public. Whether fully proven or not, such perceptions have severely damaged confidence in the management of agricultural interventions. Ironically, many Nigerians maintain that locally produced rice is superior in taste, freshness and quality to some imported alternatives now flooding the market. Nigerian farmers have spent years struggling to improve local rice production despite poor infrastructure, insecurity and limited government support. Instead of protecting these farmers, policy now appears to expose them to unfair competition from imported products supported by foreign economies and more stable currencies. The greatest tragedy is that the Nigerian farmer is being crushed at both ends. While imported grains depress local market prices, the devaluation of the Naira has made farming itself almost impossible. Modern agriculture in Nigeria depends heavily on imported inputs linked directly to the dollar. Fertilizers, herbicides, pesticides, improved seedlings, irrigation equipment and spare parts have all become outrageously expensive following the collapse of the Naira. A farmer who once purchased fertilizer at manageable prices now spends several times more for the same product. Herbicides have become unaffordable for small-scale farmers. Diesel prices have turned mechanised farming and irrigation into luxuries. Transportation costs continue to rise because fuel affects every stage of agricultural logistics. Yet after enduring these crushing expenses, farmers often discover during harvest that grain prices have fallen below production costs because imported food has distorted the market. Insecurity has worsened the crisis beyond imagination. In parts of Zamfara and Katsina States, many farmers reportedly negotiate access to their own farmlands with armed bandits. In some communities, portions of harvests are surrendered as informal levies before farmers are allowed to cultivate safely. The Nigerian farmer now faces a frightening reality: risk of kidnapping on the farm, heavy costs for fertilizer and transportation, months of uncertainty, and then selling produce at a loss. No nation can survive such contradictions for long. What makes the situation more dangerous is the growing perception among many northern communities that politics is being played with agriculture and livelihoods. Every election cycle appears to bring emergency food interventions, politically branded distributions and sudden importation policies, while the structural problems facing local farmers remain unresolved. Such actions may temporarily create political excitement, but they steadily destroy confidence among producers expected to guarantee national food security. The fears of Nigerian farmers are not unfounded. History offers painful examples. Haiti remains one of the clearest cases. Trade liberalisation policies in the 1990s opened the country to heavily subsidised imported rice, destroying local rice production and pushing rural communities deeper into poverty. Years later, even some international actors admitted that the policy badly damaged Haiti’s agricultural sector. Similar patterns have appeared in several developing countries where governments relied on imports to reduce urban food prices while neglecting domestic producers. The immediate political benefits often gave way to long-term dependence, unemployment and food insecurity. Nigeria is dangerously close to repeating the same mistake. Today, many farmers openly question whether agriculture still has a future in the country. Some have already reduced cultivation because they fear another flood of imported grains as political activities intensify ahead of future elections. Others refuse to expand production because they no longer believe government policies protect local farmers. The atmosphere in many farming communities is one of frustration, exhaustion and hopelessness. The irony is painful. Nigeria possesses vast arable land, favourable climate zones and millions of hardworking farmers, yet the people producing food are becoming poorer each season. Those who cultivate the land carry all the risks while others profit from import waivers, emergency contracts and politically managed interventions. A country that destroys its farmers, destroys its future. Nigeria cannot claim to fight poverty while impoverishing those who feed the nation. It cannot speak of food security while discouraging local production through inconsistent policies and opaque importation programmes. It cannot continue exposing local farmers to imported competition while ignoring the devastating effects of currency devaluation, insecurity and rising production costs. The country urgently needs transparent agricultural policies, protection for local producers, massive investment in rural security, affordable agricultural inputs, low-interest financing and stable pricing mechanisms capable of protecting farmers from sudden market shocks. Above all, government must stop treating agriculture as a political tool and start treating it as the foundation of national survival. The Nigerian farmer does not ask for charity. He asks only for fairness: the opportunity to cultivate his land, harvest his crops and sell his produce without being ruined by insecurity, inflation, import manipulation and politics masquerading as economic policy. If these warning signs continue to be ignored, Nigeria may soon discover that the collapse of farming is not just a northern tragedy. It will become a national catastrophe.