Sudan… When Agriculture Rises from the Ashes of War

Dr Al-Sadiq Ali Haj Al-Sheikh
In Sudan, the land remembers.
It does not forget the footsteps of those who crossed the fields one morning, nor the voices of women as they filled their water jars, nor the smell of the earth when the first rains arrived, nor the joy of the farmer watching the first green shoots make their way through the clods of soil.
Sudanese land knows its people. It knows that, despite all the weight of war, this people have never been far removed from agriculture.
That is why, when we speak of Sudan after the war, our conversation should not be confined to the cities that have been destroyed, nor to the roads, bridges and factories awaiting the hand that will restore them to life.
We must go further.
We must go to the land.
There, between the Nile and the rain, between the hoe and the tractor, between the wheat grain and the sorghum stalks, Sudan’s new story can begin.
The Farmer… The Man Who Remained Standing
The war did not take away Sudan’s cities and factories alone; it also took away some of the farmer’s sense of security.
Machinery was brought to a standstill. The prices of seeds, fertilisers and fuel soared. Roads were cut off. Markets were disrupted. Irrigation schemes were damaged. And many people were displaced from their villages and fields.
But the farmer remained waiting.
Waiting for a new season, new rains and a new opportunity to put his hands back into the soil.
And here lies one of Sudan’s greatest sources of strength: the farmer has not lost faith in the land.
A farmer does not see soil merely as soil. He sees bread for his children, a school for his son, medicine for his mother and a future for his home.
That is why saving agriculture must begin, above all, by restoring the farmer’s confidence.
The problem is not the land. Sudan is a vast, fertile country with diverse climates and abundant water, land, and livestock resources.
Yet the paradox is that a country with such enormous potential has remained unable to turn a substantial portion of its natural wealth into sustainable economic power.
And the problem has never been the land alone.
It has been policies, finance, management, markets, irrigation, weak processing industries, and the troubled relationship between the state and the farmer.
For this reason, the war, despite all its brutality, may place before Sudan a rare opportunity: to reconsider how it views agriculture itself.
We should not simply replant the past.
We should plant a new future.
The Agricultural Bank… From Financier to Partner
At the heart of this future stands the Agricultural Bank.
But what kind of Agricultural Bank do we want?
Do we want a bank to which a farmer comes seeking a seasonal loan, only to leave worrying about repayment before he has even begun worrying about cultivation?
Or do we want a partner that walks alongside the farmer from the first step in the field to the final step in the market?
Agriculture is not the moment when seeds are purchased.
It is a long journey that begins with the seed, followed by water, fertiliser, ploughing, harvesting, storage, transport and finally the market.
Finance should therefore extend across the entire production cycle.
More importantly, the concept of collateral must change.
How can we expect a farmer emerging from war, already burdened by losses, to provide collateral equivalent to what he has lost?
Perhaps the time has come for the crop itself to become part of the collateral, for farmers’ associations to become partners in financing, and for agricultural insurance instruments to be developed so that rain alone is no longer the force that determines the farmer’s fate.
When Farmers Unite… They Gain Strength
For a long time, Sudanese farmers have worked individually.
They buy individually, borrow individually, sell individually and face market fluctuations individually.
This raises their production costs and weakens their bargaining power.
But when farmers come together in genuine producer associations, the equation can change.
An association can purchase fertiliser in bulk, own tractors and combine harvesters, establish storage facilities, negotiate with banks, sell crops collectively and even contract directly with factories.
At that point, the farmer is no longer merely a producer waiting for whatever price the market dictates.
He becomes a partner in shaping the market itself.
But these associations must not be mere signs hanging above office doors.
They must be genuine institutions: independent, elected, transparent, and accountable to the farmers themselves.
The Gezira Scheme… A Memory of Water and Cotton
When we speak of Sudanese agriculture, the name Gezira emerges like an old poem known to every Sudanese person.
The Gezira Scheme is not merely a vast expanse of farmland. It is an economic and social memory, and one of Sudan’s largest irrigated agricultural projects.
But memory alone is not enough.
Rebuilding the scheme does not mean restoring the canals exactly as they were, returning to the same crops, or reproducing the past like a photograph.
What is required is a scheme that is more efficient, fairer, and more competitive.
A scheme in which the farmer is a genuine partner; in which water is properly managed; maintenance is regular; finance is available; and the market is ready before the crop reaches the warehouse.
We do not want to return Gezira to yesterday.
We want to take Gezira into tomorrow.
Water… The Other Story
In Sudan, we cannot speak about agriculture without speaking about water.
The Nile flows, and the rain falls.
But the question is not always: Do we have water?
The harder question is: Does the water reach the plant when it needs it?
A canal swallowed by silt cannot transport water efficiently.
A pump without energy comes to a standstill.
A network without maintenance gradually becomes a relic of the past.
That is why the irrigation battle is not simply a battle to find water; it is a battle to manage water.
And it may well be one of Sudan’s most important battles in the years ahead.
Water that does not reach the roots on time is like water that never arrived at all.
Rain-fed Agriculture… When Livelihood Hangs from the Sky
Sudan has another kind of farmer — more patient and more exposed to risk.
He is the rain-fed farmer.
He places his seeds in the soil and then raises his eyes to the sky.
When the rain comes, hope comes with it.
When it is late, everything else is delayed.
And when it stops halfway through the season, everything the farmer has invested is placed at risk of being lost.
That is why it is not enough to tell the rain-fed farmer: “Plant.”
We must give him better seeds, better agricultural extension services, more flexible finance, insurance against climate risks, and access to roads, storage facilities and markets.
We cannot ask the farmer to fight alone against the rain, the market and the financing challenge all at once.
From the Field to the Factory
If Sudan wants agriculture to become the engine of the economy, it must stop viewing the crop as the end of the journey.
The crop is the beginning.
Sesame can become oil.
Groundnuts can become an industrial product.
Cotton can become textiles.
Livestock can become processed meat, leather and dairy products.
Grains can feed a vast food-processing industry.
Only then does agriculture begin to move the real economy.
A field that feeds a factory, a factory that employs workers, a lorry that transports the product, and a bank that finances the entire cycle are all parts of a single economic wheel.
What Do We Need After the War?
We need a new agricultural policy, not seasonal decisions.
We need an Agricultural Bank that is closer to the farmer.
We need strong and independent producer associations.
We need to rehabilitate the major irrigation schemes.
We need better water management.
We need agricultural insurance that protects farmers from rainfall and climate fluctuations.
We need roads, warehouses and functioning markets.
And, above all, we need to put the farmer at the heart of agricultural decision-making.
We cannot write the future of agriculture from a distance from those who actually cultivate it.
Ten Steps Towards Tomorrow
Make agriculture a central pillar of Sudan’s reconstruction programme.
Rebuild the agricultural financing system around the production cycle, rather than seasonal loans alone.
Transform the Agricultural Bank into a genuine partner in production, marketing and processing.
Empower farmers’ associations to access collective finance, mechanisation and marketing.
Rehabilitate the major irrigation schemes, foremost among them the Gezira Scheme.
Establish an effective agricultural insurance system.
Modernise water management and agricultural drainage.
Give rain-fed agriculture attention commensurate with its scale and importance.
Link agricultural production to industry and exports.
Make the farmer a partner in decision-making, rather than merely an implementer of decisions.
Let Us Plant Sudan Again
After all this devastation, perhaps Sudan does not need a miracle.
It needs to reorder its priorities.
To return the land to the farmer, water to the land, a route for the water, a market for the crop, a factory for the market, a worker for the factory, wages for the worker, and security to the family.
Then the wheels of the economy can begin to turn.
The greatest scene we could witness after the war would not simply be a city whose buildings rise again.
It would be a village coming back to life; a farmer returning to his field; a tractor cutting through the soil; a canal once again carrying water; and a tiny seed pushing its way towards the sun.
That seed may seem small.
But within it lies an entire nation.
Sudan does not need to import its future.
Sudan can grow it.

Shortlink: https://sudanhorizon.com/?p=17706