“I thought, “So long as we maintain brotherly relations with the North, we’ll never go hungry.” After all, Niger State alone is bigger than the entire South-West, and Kano State boasts a population larger than that of the entire South-East.”
There was a time when tales of hunger and food scarcity sounded distant, almost unreal. I used to believe—quite strongly—that as long as Nigeria remained one united and indivisible entity, the North would always produce enough to feed the rest of the country. With its vast landmass and booming population, the North seemed destined to be our eternal food basket.
I thought, “So long as we maintain brotherly relations with the North, we’ll never go hungry.” After all, Niger State alone is bigger than the entire South-West, and Kano State boasts a population larger than that of the entire South-East.
In fact, I once seriously considered marrying a woman from the North—Katsina State, to be precise. My reasoning was pragmatic: if the ever-assertive Yoruba or Igbo decided to antagonise the North and, in retaliation, the North cut off the food supply, I could simply relocate with my wife to safer, food-secure territory.
But alas, life always has a way of proving us wrong. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that the day would come when the North itself—the so-called giant food producer of Nigeria—would cry out in protest over hunger. What a twist of fate! What an irony of unimaginable proportions!
If I had been more observant, I might have noticed the signs. The violent clashes between herdsmen and farmers in the Oke Ogun Region of Oyo State during Governor Lam Adesina’s administration were ominous.
Former Governor Rasheed Ladoja, a visionary in his own right, responded to the crisis with long-term thinking. He sent young Oyo State graduates to Israel—a desert nation that miraculously feeds itself and exports food—to study greenhouse farming. For context, Israel spans a mere 22,145 square kilometers, of which 21,671 are desert. Yet they’ve turned sand into salads!
These graduates returned with life-saving knowledge. They brought with them the concept of greenhouse agriculture—a revolutionary idea that planted the seeds of food sustainability in Oyo State.
Former Governor Ladoja remains one of the most intelligent and forward-thinking leaders to ever govern our dear state. If not for “àwọn aṣeburúkú ṣe rere”—those mischievous agents of disruption—who derailed his administration, Oyo State would have been light-years ahead today.
Many of our so-called leaders took decisions without foresight, as though they would reign forever. They forgot one simple truth: power is fleeting, but the judgment of the Almighty is eternal. Our Creator is Supreme, and He recalls whom He wills when the time comes. May the souls of our departed leaders rest in perfect peace. May Allah forgive them their shortcomings and grant them mercy beyond the grave.
Today, it is that same greenhouse farming that is keeping Oyo State afloat. Governor ‘Seyi Makinde, our current helmsman, has not only embraced it—he’s expanded it. Under his administration, Oyo has reached a new level of agricultural independence. We no longer have to beg the North for onions, tomatoes, or peppers. Imagine that! Once upon a time, a protest in Kano would cause pepper prices to quadruple in Ibadan. Now, thanks to strategic planning, we are no longer at the mercy of distant suppliers.
But make no mistake, the recent protests in the North over hunger are a loud, blaring siren. It is a message wrapped in desperation and pain. If the North—the same region we all once looked up to for food—is now starving, then who is safe? The South+West must take this as a serious wake-up call. We must triple our investment in mechanised and modern agriculture or risk unimaginable catastrophe.
There is fire on the mountain. You may not see the flames yet, but the smoke is rising. Food insecurity is no respecter of tribe, region, or religion. If we do not act now, we may soon find ourselves in queues, begging for grains. A word, they say, is enough for the wise.
•Mogaji Arisekola writes from Ibadan.
