"Capture the Agro Horizon"

The Foundations of an Agro Empire

You were my first love, from childhood to you I stuck.

Running through time’s labyrinth, from you I can’t desist.

I have always been in the farm for as long as I can remember. From a very tender age, perhaps 9 I had already been trained in the art of tilling the soil with a small hole. Everyone in my family was involved in the farming of staple crops like maize, rice, groundnuts and cassava. My dad always hammered on how “hard work was the way to success” and to him hard work could be measured with how much you toil on the farm. Even from a tender age I had my own slightly different idea of ‘working hard’ but damn, we did not argue with my father!

So we all went to the farm: my father, mother, uncle and siblings. Even my kid sis who was about 4 at the time still had to go to the farm. She preoccupied herself most times with looking for crickets or building sand houses while the rest of us did the real work. I envied her but damn, I had my chance! So for me I caught the ‘Agro Bug’ from a very tender age; agriculture simply hard a sheer fascination for me, I simply loved contributing to the production of a fraction of the meal we ate…but I sometimes detested the labour phase, especially with all the crude techniques we had to employ.

By the time I was in secondary school I was practically a ‘farmer in the head’. I recall how we had to cultivate groundnut on the class farm in my first year in school. I played an active role in sourcing the groundnuts and even weeding on that farm…too bad when the harvest came the Agricultural Science teacher invited his family members and they looted the entire harvest for themselves. But that did not discourage me. In my 3rd year in secondary school I cleared a bit of the family land and planted sesame seed. We had not cultivated the crop before and I was merely experimenting. I tilled the small piece of land by myself, bought the seeds, did the weeding and you should see how the plants grew so beautifully. Unfortunately one day, father woke up and decided to clear out the land with my crops (a month to harvest) because he wanted to erect a building there. It so bled my heart that silently I shed tears…I never thought then I could forgive him.

In my fourth year in secondary school I owned my own small poultry farm at home, using a battery cage system. I reared cockerels, broilers and turkeys. The income from the sales of my birds so empowered me I was tempted to ask my dad to grant me independence. I had some strange kind of emotional connect with my birds. Sometimes I would squat in front of their cages and observe them for up to 30 minutes. At some point I even went as insane as giving some of the birds names. I knew my birds and their simply knew me. When one of them drooped its head I ran to the veterinary doctor for medications…I practically pampered them.

At some point, when I entered the university I had to pause my involvement in agriculture due to time. The urge to return to it big time however kept nibbling at my brain cells all through my schooling days. Today I am exploring all the facets of agriculture and making details on a blueprint for an Agro Empire. The picture is taking shape and I am already recruiting an army of revolutionary farmers who will take the nation by storm.

I may be an engineer by training but I don’t see how it stops me from tilling acres of land with a tractor, cultivating cash and food crops and unleashing the wealth mine in the field that has so been neglected for long. Today many graduates still roam the streets looking for elusive jobs, yet some others irrespective of their discipline have picked up the gauntlet and are actively engaging in agriculture for profitable ends. An army of farmers are also been recruited under the organization, Youth Agric Revolution Initiative (YARI), a group I belong to.

It is simply the time to create an agro revolution…join the Poetic Farmer as we explore down to the final hues of the massive potential in this sleeping giant…

WELCOME TO ONE SWELL RIDE WITH THE POETIC FARMER