Amidst Cassava, Banana Trees, Passion Fruits, and Mango Trees, I See a Light
Maria Schiffer with Agronamist John Lodungokol in his garden in Karamoja.
I've been back from Germany in Uganda for three weeks now. When I landed and reached my hotel room, tears ran down my face. I don’t know what I was expecting—a welcome party or a rolled out red carpet? The reality of being back in Uganda was that it’s just me, living out of my suitcases and from my small savings, working in the midst of climbing a steep mountain. After eight hours of desperately needed sleep, I realized: Wait a moment, Maria, there might not have been trumpets sounding and confetti on my arrival, but it doesn’t mean I’m alone. There are so many people on that same mountain, working towards reaching that beautiful peak and seeing the light. And I have you! You’re reading this story unfolding right now—thank you for that!
So this is how the story continues:
I rolled up my sleeves and fed my sourdough starter, and a couple of days later, I held my first class on how to make sourdough bread—something I never imagined I would be doing. I’ve realized that I don’t need to know it all; I just need to be the bridge that connects people, experts, ideas, and different worlds. I don’t need to reinvent the wheel but to be the person who builds a vehicle that moves forward. To find those parts and pieces of the puzzle, I needed to move. I need to create a strategy.
I started meeting and connecting with people around the capital city of Kampala and the rural region of Karamoja who could be possible contributors or part of BODY&SOIL. Not a day goes by that I’m not pitching my idea to someone—actually, to anyone who lends me their ear. At the end of some of these days, I can’t hear my own voice anymore(🤣).
In my imagination, it’s all there already—a center tailored for the African continent, built on indigenous wisdom combined with the latest nutritional knowledge in food and agriculture. A place for education, an academy in nutrition to nurture the BODY and the SOIL in Africa.
And these are some of the highlights that I gathered and learned, which I want to share with you today!
The regenerative farmer Laureene Reeves Ndagire on her farm on the outskirts of Kampala.
My first stop was the regenerative farm "Eran" on the outskirts of Kampala. Although there are a few others, it was the first of its kind that I’ve seen in Uganda. It is a family-run business on 40 acres of land, managed by a passionate woman and mother named Laureene Reeves Ndagire.
“One of the biggest challenges here is getting people to understand what organic farming means,”
Laureen said. The concept that you can farm without chemicals and even without tilling the soil—both regenerative practices that minimize disturbances to the trillions of soil-dwelling organisms that supply the roots with nutrients and utilize nitrogen—is totally new for many. For that, you need diversity—more than just occasional crop rotation. You utilize everything nature gives you, even weeds, which can be used as mulch or animal feed. During my afternoon with Laureen, I also learned how black soldier flies break down food scraps into fertilizer and how rabbit urine can serve as a natural pesticide. Additionally, I discovered that dried okra seeds can be made into a tea (more like a coffee) that can naturally cure ulcers. Which is a big problem, especially where people live off of an unbalanced diet.
The black soildger flies that compost food into fertilizer.
Dired okra seeds.
A few days later, I met Nancy, who has built a small herb garden called “Herb Gardening and Wellness” on her own. Word is getting around in the capital city that you can buy herbs from her, and her business is growing due to high demand. One thing that stood out to me was that most of her herbs, such as parsley, basil, and thyme, originated from across the globe. Although she also had some indigenous plants in her garden, she admitted it was hard to find information on local herbs.
Nancy from “Herb Gardening and Wellness” in her garden in Kampala.
“The problem here is we are not good at telling our own stories.”
Dr. Kalule Okello David, principal research officer at the National Semi-Arid Resources Research Institute (NaSARRI), told me. "To understand why this is, you have to recognize that knowledge in most communities is passed down through oral storytelling. The elders would teach their children about the medicinal properties of foods and herbs, as well as conservation practices, through these stories.“ He further explained that with growing urbanization and the adoption of more Western foods, these medicinal plants, along with various species of grains and other crops, are not being passed down and are therefore being forgotten. There are projects specializing in documenting medicinal plants, and this week I’m meeting with one of the researchers to explore solutions more deeply.
And then just yesterday, I stumbled upon a permaculture farm. I hadn’t planned to spend much time there; it was just meant to be a quick stop, but I ended up spending four hours talking to John Lodungokol. He is a passionate agronomist who, on just a few acres of land in one of the most arid regions of Uganda, has built a green paradise, proving that if you grow with diversity, you can grow anywhere.
John Lodungokol practices permaculture on his farm in Karamoja Uganda.
“In agriculture, you can do anything,” he says, “but the will needs to be there.”
In his garden, he harvests rainwater and uses practices such as grafting (creating a new tree from different plant cuttings) and the three sisters principle (growing maize, pumpkin, and legumes together to create synergy). Scattered among fields of fruit and nut trees, he had planted the indigenous tepary bean, a nitrogen fixator that is ready to harvest in one month. Today, this super nutritious bean is disappearing from the markets.
Seven different indigenous types of sorghum growing in Uganda.
The indigenous Kiapple growing in Karamoja.
He proudly showed me the seven different varieties of local sorghum growing next to each other, of which only three are commonly grown in the region. Then there was the indigenous Kiapple tree, which is used for fencing villages for security against raiders from different clans. The more Kiapples are grown, the safer the environment. Currently, women and cattle keepers cut thorny trees for fencing their homesteads and kraals. A leading cause that has gradually brought deforestation and climate change to Karamoja. If more Kiapples are planted, they would refrain from cutting down the rest of the surrounding nature around them. Additionally these trees that they are now cutting down for firewood and fencing many of them also have medicinal properties!
With this simple example, maybe you can understand the importance of a holistic approach to healing not just the soil but also the body.
Next week, I’m moving from rural Karamoja to Kampala, where I’ll be meeting with more experts and researching solutions that can be integrated. I'm on the lookout for a starting points to build demo gardens, train trainers, and develop school gardens, all with a holistic approach. How the picture will look in the end is written in the stars. One thing is for sure: I see a light and I’m going to keep climbing the mountain.
You know how they say, “If it doesn’t scare you, you’re not thinking big enough”? I’m thinking pretty damn big. Thank you for being here!
Maria
