|
|
“Philip Gichuki
Wahome has no fear of Bt or the stem borer”
In Kenya, our aim
is to develop and deliver maize varieties resistant
to the major stem borer species to smallholder farmers,
and increase maize production and improve food security.
Philip Gichuki, 68 years old and father of nine children, and his wife Othaya, lead a hard life near Nyeri. His 6,800 square meters of soil, not much bigger than an allotment, are exhausted and produce only a little fruit. His thin little cow, tied by one leg so it does not run away, does not produce much manure, and there is only enough money for artificial fertilizer once a year. The persistent drought in recent times has also affected the usually green and fertile region around Mount Kenya.
Philip has sold his second cow, because there is only enough grass round the house and among the coffee plants on the edge of the field for one. The harvests are now even smaller than they used to be, and the yields are poorer, even though sowing can be carried out twice a year here, right on the equator.
Philip Gichuki willingly shows us his field. A few weeks ago he planted maize grains in the red earth for the second time this year – always several of them in the same hole, so he can be sure at least one will sprout. Now the young plants, some of them about 50 cm high, are getting in each other’s way.
Philip listens to what the courteous agricultural extension officer James Ouma Okuro has to say, and smilingly answers questions: yes, he usually does use the space underneath and between the maize rows, but only in the second season, when there is less rain and the maize usually stays thin. Potatoes, peas, beans, and yams then have enough light and air to do well as underseeds.
In the main season in spring, when there is enough regular rain, he only uses maize. In a good year he can harvest between 270 and 360 kilos on his land. That is at best only a fifth of what other farmers bring in, Ouma tells him. But Philip Gichuki doesn’t care. For him it is enough if he and his wife can eat their fill, and when he has a little left over to give his children, who have long since left home.
The Wahomes’ five daughters and four sons are their pride and joy. They were able to send all nine of them to school, and according to Gichuki they all have jobs. He’s not quite sure what they do, but he knows two of them are with the railways, and two others work in the hospital. To support his family, he worked as a bricklayer for many years, and his wife and children cultivated the field. The yield from the coffee trees topped up his pay. In the meantime the market has collapsed, and coffee is barely profitable for small-scale farmers at all.
This is why Gichuki is now never sure how much cash he still has for seed and fertilizer. He has never bought pest sprays, and he has never heard of Bt – Bacillus thuringiensis – which is causing such controversy in Europe and America. For sowing, Gichuki buys the hybrid maize variety that is normally used in the district, but only once a year. He fertilizes it as well as he can, his wife digs over the soil with her hoe, and the rest is left up to nature.
This time, nature does not seem to be very pleased with his efforts: the earth is dry, and on the leaves of the young maize plants the tell-tale white feeding traces of stem borer larvae are too obvious to overlook. But Gichuki doesn’t want to believe it. Aren’t the leaves nice and green? Doesn’t the maize look healthy? Yes. So far! The larvae have already eaten through to the delicate whorl; nothing more can be seen of them from the outside.
Whether only a dozen plants or a hundred are affected will become clear only at harvest-time. Philip Gichuki Wahome remains as composed as ever. He is counting on hope alone in the maize field, as usual – on principle in the first place, and second due to a lack of money and knowledge. Maybe the voracious pests will only attack a few individual plants, and leave him enough to live on.
|
|
|
