Vea la versión en español a continuación

Chocolate has been getting a bad rap lately, for everything from deforestation to child labor and underpaid farmers who grow the cacao and never taste the chocolate. Fortunately, that’s not how they grow cacao in Bolivia.

I’ve been hearing about El Ceibo for 30 years. This umbrella organization of 47 cooperatives and over 1,300 cacao growers has been putting cocoa powder on Bolivian grocery shelves for some time, and in recent years they have been making fabulous chocolate bars. So, I was glad to get a chance to go spend a week with them not too long ago.

I went with José Luis Escobar, an agronomist who has known El Ceibo since the 1990s. El Ceibo’s headquarters are a campus of neat brick buildings, in the small town of Sapecho, in the Alto Beni region, La Paz, in the humid tropics of the Bolivian lowlands. The campus has offices, a lab, and meeting rooms, but also buildings to process cacao, and solar dryers with wheels so the drying cacao beans can be quickly rolled under a roof during a sudden shower. The walkways between the buildings are lined with cocoa trees with beautiful red, purple or golden pods.

Javier Marino, the sub-director of Ceibo’s technical wing (PIAF), showed us their nursery, also in Sapecho. Javier grew up on a nearby cocoa farm. After going away to get a degree in agronomy, he came back home and began to work at El Ceibo. 95% of Ceibo’s employees are cooperative members, or their children or grandchildren.

At the nursery, workers (all from cocoa-growing families) were busy mixing soil, sand and compost to fill the plastic bags to plant cocoa seeds. To meet the growing demand for cacao trees, El Ceibo is planning to sell half a million cocoa seedlings this year. The cocoa seedlings are of varieties that tolerate diseases like monilia, caused by a fungus. Tolerant varieties help farmers produce organic chocolate, without chemicals. Ceibo is also building a factory to produce biological fungicides and organic fertilizers.

El Ceibo has more than 10 extensionists, many of whom are cacao farmers, as well as professional agronomists. The extensionists visit each of the cooperatives that make up El Ceibo, and teach farmers to manage cacao and its diseases naturally. By nature, cocoa trees grow in the forest, in partial shade. The extensionists teach farmers to plant fruit and native forest trees among the cocoa. All the trees, even the cocoa, are pruned to let in light and air, to prevent diseases. El Ceibo agronomists explain to farmers that growing cacao with other trees also helps to manage the extreme temperatures of climate change.

El Ceibo maintains a model agroforestry plot at their nursery, where cacao grows under the rainforest trees. Some farmers have adopted agroforestry, but all of them have at least some forest trees growing among their cacao. Some of the trees are forest giants, so El Ceibo has a team of experts who visit farmers, to prune the tall trees. The pruners climb the trees safely, with ropes and harnesses. By cutting off the lower branches, the big trees cast just the right amount of shade, and the trees don’t have to be cut down. Years later, the trees can be harvested for timber, and then replanted.

All of this agronomy is paying off. In just eight years, El Ceibo has more than doubled its yield of organic cocoa, from an average of 450 pounds per hectare to 1000 (from 200 kilos to 450). To handle the increased volume, two years ago El Ceibo built a new collection center and processing plant near Sapecho. Trucks pull in with the harvested cacao beans, sent by the farmers. Before drying the cacao beans, El Ceibo ferments them in large wooden boxes, to bring out the best chocolate aromas, flavors and colors, and to get a higher price.

El Ceibo exports some cocoa butter through a German organic and fairtrade company, GEPA, and sells cocoa beans to chocolate-makers in Switzerland. But 70% of their production is for Bolivia. El Ceibo has a chocolate plant in the big city of El Alto, six hours away, staffed by grown children of cacao farmers.

Ceibo also has a shop, that opens onto a street in Sapecho, where you can buy general hardware, and special cacao-growing tools, besides the chocolate candies and cookies that El Ceibo produces. A sign in the shop reminds the cacao farmers that if they show their membership card they can buy the chocolates at a discount.

I met Jesús Tapia, a cacao-grower who has been a member of El Ceibo for 40 years. For the past two years he has also been the second vice-president of the board of directors. Like all of El Ceibo’s leaders, don Jesús was elected by the general membership. El Ceibo started 47 years ago, when a group of cocoa farmers decided that they could sell their own cocoa, and cut out the middlemen. These dealers would buy the cacao on credit, but could be slow coming back with the money. Cooperatives don’t always last very long, especially large umbrella organizations that bring together dozens of cooperatives. But here in Bolivia, the cacao farmers sell their produce at a fair price, create jobs for their co-op members, grow rainforest trees, and they have their own chocolate shop.

Acknowledgements

I’m indebted to José Luis Escobar, and to Misael Condori for introducing me to El Ceibo, and for their patient explanations. Thanks to José Luis Escobar and Paul Van Mele for reading and commenting on a previous version of this blog.

El Ceibo Cooperative Federation Ltd. (El Ceibo) has given technical assistance to its members since the 1980s. In 1993 El Ceibo created the Program to Implement Agroecology and Forestry (PIAF), which carries out research and development for the cooperatives.

Scientific name. Monilia is a disease caused by the fungus Moniliophthora roreri.

EL CEIBO: BUENOS AGRICULTORES, BUEN CHOCOLATE

Por Jeff Bentley, 9 de junio del 2024

Últimamente el chocolate tiene mala fama, desde la deforestación hasta el trabajo infantil y los agricultores mal pagados que producen el cacao sin jamás probar el chocolate. Afortunadamente, en Bolivia no se produce el cacao así.

Hace 30 años que oigo hablar de El Ceibo. Esta central de cooperativas, que agrupa a 47 cooperativas de base y más de 1.300 productores de cacao, lleva tiempo vendiendo cocoa en polvo y otros productos en sus tiendas y supermercados bolivianos. En los últimos años salieron con unas fabulosas barras de chocolate. Por eso me alegró tener la oportunidad de pasar una semana con ellos.

Fui con José Luis Escobar, un ingeniero agrónomo que conoce al Ceibo desde los años 90. La sede de El Ceibo es un campus de edificios bien construidos, de ladrillo, en el pueblo de Sapecho de la región de Alto Beni, La Paz, en el trópico húmedo de las tierras bajas bolivianas. El campus tiene oficinas, un laboratorio y salas de reuniones, pero también predios para procesar el cacao y secadores solares corredizos para meter los granos de cacao bajo techo rápidamente en caso de una lluvia sorpresiva. Las aceras entre los edificios están bordeadas de árboles de cacao con hermosas mazorcas rojas, moradas o doradas.

Javier Marino, el sub director del brazo técnico de El Ceibo (PIAF), nos mostró sus viveros, también en Sapecho. Javier es de la zona, y es hijo de productores de cacao. Tras egresarse como ingeniero agrónomo en la ciudad, volvió a casa y empezó a trabajar en El Ceibo. El 95% de los empleados de Ceibo son cooperativistas, o sus hijos o nietos.

En el vivero, los trabajadores (todos de familias cacaoteras) mezclan tierra, arena y abono para llenar las bolsas de plástico donde sembrar las semillas de cacao. Para satisfacer la creciente demanda de cacaoteros, este año El Ceibo venderá medio millón de plantines de cacao. Los plantines de cacao son de variedades que toleran enfermedades como la monilia, causada por un hongo. Las variedades tolerantes ayudan a los agricultores a producir chocolate ecológico, sin químicos. El Ceibo también está construyendo una fábrica para producir fungicidas biológicos y abonos orgánicos.

El Ceibo tiene más de 10 extensionistas. Muchos producen cacao, además de ser agrónomos profesionales. Los extensionistas visitan cada una de las cooperativas que componen El Ceibo y enseñan a los agricultores a manejar adecuadamente el cacao y sus enfermedades de forma natural. Por naturaleza, los árboles de cacao crecen en el bosque, en sombra parcial. Los extensionistas enseñan a los agricultores a plantar árboles frutales y forestales nativos entre el cacao. Todos los árboles, incluso el cacao, se podan para dejar entrar la luz y el aire, y así evitar las enfermedades. Los extensionistas de El Ceibo explican a los agricultores que cultivar cacao junto con otros árboles ayuda a manejar las temperaturas extremas del cambio climático.

Desde hace años, El Ceibo mantiene un modelo agroforestal en su vivero, donde el cacao crece bajo los árboles del bosque. Algunos agricultores han adoptado la agroforestería, pero todos tienen al menos algunos árboles forestales entre su cacao. Algunos de los árboles son gigantes del bosque; por eso El Ceibo tiene un equipo de expertos que visita a los agricultores para podar los árboles altos. Los podadores trepan a los árboles de forma segura, con lasos y arneses. Al cortar las ramas bajeras, los grandes árboles dan justo suficiente sombra y no es necesario talarlos. Años más tarde, los árboles pueden ser cosechados para madera y ser replantados.

Toda esta agronomía está dando sus frutos. En sólo ocho años, El Ceibo ha duplicado su producción de cacao ecológico, de un promedio de 45 quintales por hectárea a 10. Para manejar el mayor volumen, hace dos años El Ceibo construyó una nueva planta de acopio y de procesamiento de cacao húmedo, cerca de Sapecho. Llegan los camiones con cacao cosechado por sus agricultores. El cacao es fermentado en cajas de madera grandes, para resaltar los mejores aromas, sabores y colores del chocolate, y obtener un precio más alto.

El Ceibo exporta parte de la manteca de cacao a través de una empresa alemana de comercio justo y orgánico, GEPA, y vende granos de cacao a chocolateros de Suiza. Pero el 70% de su producción se destina a Bolivia. El Ceibo tiene una fábrica de chocolates en la gran ciudad de El Alto, a seis horas de distancia, donde trabajan los hijos e hijas mayores de los productores de cacao.

Ceibo también tiene una tienda, que da a una calle de Sapecho, donde se puede comprar ferretería en general y herramientas especiales para el cultivo del cacao, además de dulces y galletas de chocolate que El Ceibo produce. Un cartel en la tienda recuerda a los cacaocultores que si muestran su carnet de socio pueden comprar los chocolates con descuento.

Conocí a Jesús Tapia, un cultivador de cacao que es socio de El Ceibo desde hace 40 años. Desde hace dos años es también vicepresidente segundo de la junta directiva. Como todos los dirigentes de El Ceibo, don Jesús fue elegido por voto popular de los socios. El Ceibo nació hace 47 años, cuando un grupo de cacaocultores decidió vender su propio cacao y evitar a los intermediarios, que compraban la producción a crédito, pero tardaban en devolver el dinero. Las cooperativas no siempre duran mucho, sobre todo las grandes organizaciones que agrupan a docenas de cooperativas. Pero aquí, en Bolivia, los cultivadores de cacao venden sus productos a un precio justo, crean puestos de trabajo para sus cooperativas y afiliados, cultivan árboles de la selva tropical y tienen su propia chocolatería.

Agradecimientos

Estoy agradecido a José Luis Escobar y Misael Condori por hacerme conocer El Ceibo y por sus pacientes explicaciones. Gracias a José Luis Escobar y Paul Van Mele por leer y comentar sobre una versión previa de este blog.

La Central de Cooperativas El Ceibo R.L. (El Ceibo) ha dado asistencia técnica a sus afiliados desde los años 80. En el 1993 El Ceibo creó el Programa de Implementaciones Agro-ecológicas y Forestales (PIAF), el cual se encarga de la investigación y desarrollo para la central.

Nombre científico. La monilia es una enfermedad causada por el hongo Moniliophthora roreri.

Vea la versión en español a continuación

In earlier blogs (Our threatened farmers, Damaging the soil and our health with chemical reductionism) Paul and I have written that farmers are Stuck in the middle between just a few large produce buyers and handful of seed and agrochemical companies. Farmers are forced to take any prices offered by their buyers, and by their suppliers as well. It’s a bind that forces many family farmers out of business.

It doesn’t have to be that way, as I was reminded recently on a stretch of the old highway from Santa Cruz, Bolivia to Cochabamba, at some 3000 meters above sea level. Ana and I noticed all the farmers gathering potatoes into large, blue sacks. They were getting ready for the weekly fair at “El Puente�, the bridge over the Lope Mendoza River.

Seeing the potato growers, I suddenly felt the urge to participate in this robust farmers’ market which has been self-sustaining for decades.

In a flat space in the canyon, every Monday hundreds of smallholder farmers bring fresh produce, mostly potatoes. El Puente is like a small town that leaps into existence with the Monday fair, only to be abandoned for the rest of the week.

This was Sunday. The shop fronts were closed, locks on heavy steel doors. By Monday morning they would be doing a brisk business in farm supplies. One temporary restaurant was open, with chicken roasting on a large charcoal grill, ready to feed the farmers who had arrived early, on Sunday afternoon.

We past an empty space that would soon be full of vendors who travel from fair to fair, selling the things that rural families like and need, soap and salt, cooking oil, tinned sardines, matches and clothing. Today it was still empty, but the potato pavilion was filling up. It’s just a concrete slab with a sheet metal roof and no walls. Farmers bring in their produce, in 100 kilo bags (called a carga), and wait for customers.

Some people come from the city on the bus on Monday to buy a carga to eat at home, or half a dozen of them, to sell. They rent space on a truck to deliver the potatoes to Cochabamba. The largest buyers may load a small truck with six or twelve tons to sell to retailers in the cities. In this lightly regulated market, potatoes may go through as few as four links, from farmer to small-time wholesaler, to retailer, to customer. Each one is a small, family business. It’s Adam Smith’s ideal of capitalism, with many willing buyers and many others eager to sell.

Ana soon met a farmer in early middle age, wearing a long skirt, with a scarf tied over her head.

We asked her for an arroba (25 pounds, or 11.4 kilos) of potatoes. “Take half a carga (50 kilos)� she said, so we did. After all, this was a wholesale market. The farmer led us to her wares, maybe a dozen bags. Each farmer was there with a cluster of potatoes in 100 kilo bags. Each cluster was carefully separated from the other by a space just big enough to squeeze through. The farmer wanted 90 Bolivianos ($13) for her fine, native potatoes, and she wouldn’t take less. She was a price giver, not a taker. We were soon on our way with our 50 kilos, from the epicenter of the Bolivian potato market.

After the Bolivian Revolution of 1952, the large farms (haciendas) were divided and given to the people who worked them. According to fake history, repeated sometimes even in schools, the Agrarian Reform of the Revolution failed because the land was split up into such small parcels that they were uneconomical to produce anything. It’s a racist lie. The Agrarian Reform succeeded, as we saw a few kilometers down the road.

An indigenous Andean farm family was standing next to 20 cargas of potatoes. Two tons of food going to market, neatly dressed in blue. The proud farmer reacted in the most contemporary fashion to his household’s accomplishment. Smart phone in hand, he walked across the highway and snapped a picture of his family and their harvest.

Related Agro-Insight blogs

Peasants, not princes: The potato finds a home in Europe

Native potatoes, tasty and vulnerable

LA AGRICULTURA FAMILIAR TAMBIÉN PUEDE SER COMERCIAL

Por Jeff Bentley 30 de mayo del 2021

Antes, en este blog, Paul y yo hemos escrito que los países del norte, los agricultores están atrapados entre unos pocos grandes compradores de productos y un puñado de empresas de semillas y agroquímicos. Los agricultores se ven obligados a aceptar cualquier precio ofrecido por sus compradores, y también por sus proveedores. Es un aprieto que obliga a muchos agricultores familiares a abandonar su terreno.

No tiene por qué ser así, como volví a acordarme hace poco, manejando sobre la antigua carretera de Santa Cruz, Bolivia a Cochabamba, a unos 3.000 metros sobre el nivel del mar. Ana y yo nos fijamos en todos los agricultores que llenaban costales azules con papas. Se estaban alistando para la feria semanal en El Puente de Lope Mendoza.

Al ver a los productores de papas, sentí el impulso de participar en este robusto mercado agrícola, que se auto sostiene desde hace décadas.

En una parte plana en el cañón, cada lunes cientos de pequeños agricultores traen productos frescos, sobre todo papas. El Puente es como un pequeño pueblo que nace con la feria de los lunes, para quedar abandonado el resto de la semana.

Este día fue el domingo. Las fachadas de las tiendas estaban cerradas, con candados en las pesadas puertas de acero. El lunes por la mañana, los comercios de insumos agrícolas se llenarían de clientes. Un restaurante temporal atendía, con pollo asado en una gran parrilla de carbón, listo para alimentar a los agricultores que habían llegado temprano, el domingo por la tarde.

Pasamos por un espacio vacío que la mañana siguiente estaría lleno de vendedores que viajan de feria en feria, vendiendo antojos y artículos de primera necesidad, como jabón y sal, aceite de cocina, sardinas en lata, fósforos y ropa. Hoy todavía no había nadie, pero el pabellón de papas sí se estaba llenando. Es sólo una losa de hormigón con un techo de chapa y sin paredes. Los agricultores traen sus productos, en bolsas de 100 kilos (llamadas “cargas�), y esperan a sus clientes.

Algunas personas vienen desde la ciudad en el bus (el “micro�) el lunes para comprar una carga para comer en casa, o media docena de ellas, para vender. Alquilan espacio en un camión para llevar las papas a Cochabamba. Los que más compran pueden llegar un pequeño camión con seis o doce toneladas para venderlas a los minoristas de las ciudades. En este mercado poco regulado, las papas pueden pasar por apenas cuatro eslabones, desde el agricultor hasta el pequeño mayorista, la minorista y clientes. Cada uno de ellos es una pequeña empresa familiar. Es el ideal de capitalismo de Adam Smith, con mucha gente con ganas de comprar y vender.

Ana pronto conoció a una agricultora de mediana edad, con una falda larga y un pañuelo atado a la cabeza.

Le pedimos una arroba (25 libras, o 11,4 kilos) de papas. “Llévense media carga (50 kilos)”, nos dijo, y así lo hicimos. Al fin y al cabo, se trataba de un mercado mayorista. La agricultora nos condujo hasta sus mercancías, más o menos una docena de costales. Cada agricultor estaba allí con sus papas en sacos de 100 kilos. El producto de cada persona estaba cuidadosamente separado del otro por un espacio angosto donde uno apenas podía pasaba. La agricultora quería 90 bolivianos (13 dólares) por sus hermosas papas nativas, y no aceptaba menos. Ella estaba para dar un precio, no para recibirlo. Pronto nos pusimos en camino con nuestros 50 kilos, desde el epicentro del mercado boliviano de la patata.

Tras la Revolución Boliviana de 1952, las haciendas se dividieron y se repartían entre la gente que las trabajaba. Según la falsa historia, repetida a veces incluso en las escuelas, la Reforma Agraria fracasó porque la tierra se dividió en parcelas tan pequeñas (“surcofundias�) que no era rentable producir nada. Es una mentira racista. La Reforma Agraria tuvo éxito, como vimos unos kilómetros más adelante.

Una familia campesina estaba terminando de arreglar sus 20 cargas de papas. Dos toneladas de alimentos que iban al mercado, cuidadosamente vestidos de azul. El orgulloso agricultor reaccionó de la manera más contemporánea al logro. Teléfono inteligente en mano, cruzó la carretera y sacó una foto de su familia y su cosecha.

Historias relacionadas en el blog de Agro-Insight

Our threatened farmers,

Damaging the soil and our health with chemical reductionism

Stuck in the middle

Peasants, not princes: The potato finds a home in Europe

Papas nativas, deliciosas y vulnerables

Supermarkets in the USA bulge with everything from strawberries to steak, but this generous supply is threatened by a destructive agro-industry. In the recent book Perilous Bounty, Tom Philpott outlines looming disasters in California and the Midwest.

The Central Valley of California produces an astounding 80% of the world’s almonds and half of the pistachios, besides a lot of the fresh fruits and vegetables eaten in the USA. This phenomenal production is irrigated with water that is mined, and can never be replaced. The Central Valley used to be a vast wetland. From 1930 to 1970 a network of dams and canals were built to capture snowmelt from the Sierra Madre mountains, for irrigation.

But the rainfall out west is erratic and some years there is not enough snow to irrigate all the nut trees, so well water makes up the difference. So much water has been pumped that the ground level has fallen by 29 feet (8.8 meters). As the subsoil shrinks, it loses capacity; it can now hold less water than before.

The Midwest used to be a home for diversified family farms, rotating crops of corn, wheat, oats and rye, and even growing fruits and vegetables. Cattle ate fodder produced on the farm itself. Since the 1960s, this integrated system has been replaced by a simpler one, of just maize (corn) and soybeans, while the livestock have been sent to factory farms. Crops and animals are now grown on separate farms. The hog mega-barns are so far from the grain farms that the pig manure cannot be used as fertilizer. Instead, the manure finds its way to the Mississippi River and on to the Gulf of Mexico, where it has created a dead zone the size of New Jersey, destroying a thriving fish and shrimp industry. The soil is now eroding at an estimated rate of 5.4 tons per acre per year (13.5 tons per ha). The rich black soil is vanishing fast.

A handful of corporations buy meat (Tyson Foods, Cargill, JBS, and Smithfield Foods—owned by the Chinese WH Group) and just four companies make most of the chemical fertilizer in the USA, so farmers are forced to take the prices offered by these few buyers and sellers. This price squeeze forces many family farmers out of business. Between 1940 and 2018, the number of farms in Iowa declined from 213,000 to 86,000, a loss of 60%.

Much of this chemical-intensive farming system operates at a loss, but is made profitable by Federal Crop Insurance, operated by private companies, but subsidized by the US government.

Agriculture does make money for big companies. Monsanto, a corporation that made agrochemicals, saw its value rise from $5 billion in 2000 to $66 Billion in 2018, when Bayer bought the company. During these years, Monsanto consolidated its hold on the seed and pesticide industry. Almost all of the maize, soybean and cotton in the USA is now grown from varieties that have been genetically modified to withstand herbicides, especially glyphosate, sold under the brand name Roundup. At first, farmers loved it. They could plant the genetically modified “Roundup Ready� seed and then spray the emerging plants with herbicides, killing all the weeds and leaving the maize or soybeans fresh and green.

The problem is that weeds invariably evolve resistance to the herbicides. So, seed companies engineer new crop varieties that can withstand more herbicides. Then the weeds become resistant to those herbicides. And farmers have to spend more on seeds and chemicals.

There is a way out. In California, agroecologist Stephen Gliessman grows grapes without irrigation. In the Midwest, farmer-innovators like David Brandt and Tom Frantzen work with researchers to create integrated livestock-cereal farms where cover crops rebuild the soil with organic matter.

I was heartened to read about these inventive farmers. But there are other things we can all do, to live better and eat better. We can:

Plant a garden.

Buy locally, from family farmers.

Eat organic food.

Vote for lawmakers who support anti-trust legislation.

Push for more research on organic farming and agroecology.

Further reading

Philpott, Tom 2020 Perilous Bounty: The Looming Collapse of American Farming and How We Can Prevent It. New York: Bloomsbury Publishing. 246 pp.

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Against or with nature

It’s a simple matter to play a soundtrack about farming on the radio. The tricky part is making sure that the program connects with the audience, as I learned recently from Gideon Kwame Sarkodie Osei at ADARS FM, a commercial station in Kintampo, a town in central Ghana.

Since 2010 Gideon has been pleased to be part of an effort by Farm Radio International (FRI) that supported radio stations in Ghana, including ADARS FM, to reach out to farmers. With encouragement from FRI, Gideon started a weekly magazine show for farmers, where he plays Access Agriculture audio tracks. The magazine, Akuafo Mo, means “Thank You Farmers� in the Twi language. Before he started the show, Gideon (together with FRI) did a baseline study of the farmers in his audience. He found that they had more time on Monday evenings. Farm women do more work and have less time than most people, but they told Gideon that they were usually done with their chores by 8 PM, so that’s when he airs Akuafo Mo, every Monday for an hour.

The show starts with recorded interviews, where farmers explain their own knowledge of a certain topic, like aflatoxin, which is so important that Gideon had several episodes on this hidden toxin that can contaminate stored foodstuffs. After the interviews, Gideon plays an audio track, to share fresh ideas with his audience. Gideon has played Access Agriculture audios so often he can’t remember how many he has played. “It’s a lot more than 50,� he explains.

Gideon plays a portion of the audio in English, and then he stops to translate that part into Twi, the language of the Ashanti people. Every week there is a guest on the show, an extension agent who can discuss the topic and take questions from listeners who call in.

Gideon’s experience with the magazine inspired him to start listener groups, in coordination with FRI. Visiting listener communities, Gideon found that some did not have a radio set. So, with project support, he bought them one. “We give them radio sets so they can come together weekly and listen to the magazine,� Gideon told me. He has 20 groups, each with 12 to 30 people. Five groups are only for women, especially in areas where males and females don’t casually mingle. The other listener groups have men and women.

Gideon visits at least some of the groups every week. Because of these visits, Gideon is now downloading videos as well as audio from Access Agriculture. “Sometimes I see if they have electricity, and I rent a projector, to show them the video they have heard on the air.� Gideon says. “This is my initiative, going the extra mile.�

Some of the farmers are learning to sell their groundnuts, maize and other cereals as a group, netting them extra money and helping them to be self-sustaining.

Gideon is also a trainer for FRI. Before Covid, he would travel to other towns and cities in Ghana, meet other broadcasters, and go to the field with them to show them how to improve their interview skills and to craft their own magazine shows. Now he continues to train broadcasters, but online.

Working with the farmer listening groups gives Gideon insights into farmers’ needs and knowledge, making his magazine so authentic that 60,000 people tune in. That experience gives Gideon the confidence to train other broadcasters all over Ghana.

When I was in Ghana a few years ago, I met excellent extension agents who told me how frustrated they were to be responsible for reaching 3,000 farmers. It was impossible to have a quality interaction with all those farmers.

However, there are ways to communicate a thoughtful message with a large audience, for example with a good radio magazine.

Gideon has creatively blended his own expertise with resources from two communication-oriented non-profit organisations: Farm Radio International and Access Agriculture. Hopefully, his experience will inspire other broadcasters.

Videos in the languages of Ghana

Find videos and soundtracks in these languages of Ghana: Buli, Dagaari, Dagbani, Ewe, Frafra, Gonja, Hausa, Kabyé, Kusaal, Moba, Sisaala, Twi, Zarma and English.

Nederlandse versie hieronder

In Belgium we have an expression: “all Belgians are born with a brick in their stomach�, meaning that all citizens aspire to build their own house someday. But when bricks are literally eaten, something has gone seriously wrong.

Some 25 years ago, during one of my first projects in Sri Lanka, news came out that chilli powder was mixed with ground up bricks. Some crooks were trying to make a dishonest profit. Ground chilli and powdered bricks are of a similar colour and consistency. Few buyers taste the chilli powder when they buy it, and as chilli is typically added to sauces, never eaten straight, a cheating dealer supplying to regional or international markets for customers he would never see again at times could get away with such a scam.  

Fortunately, in Europe we have a long history of food safety standards, regulations and government institutes safeguarding the quality of the food that enters the market and ends up on our plates. But such systems are absent, dysfunctional or just getting started in many developing countries.

Yet many developing countries have an advantage when it comes to food safety: short food chains. Control measures on food safety are less important when one relies on short food chains. In Sri Lanka, for instance, I used to patronize spice gardens where urban people would stock up on black pepper, chilli or cardamom. Over the years the customers would establish a relationship based on trust with the family running the spice garden. Even in the markets, most vendors know their regular customers, and would never risk selling them a fake product. Suppliers are motivated to sell high-quality products to their valuable, steady customers.

I had forgotten about this incidence of adulterated chilli until recently. While reading the book The True History of Chocolate, I was struck by one particular paragraph on food adulteration. Cacao had spread from Latin America to Portuguese, Spanish, English and French colonies across Africa and Asia in the 19^th century.

In 1828, the Dutch chemist Coenraad Van Houten took out a patent on a process to make powdered chocolate with a very low fat content. The Industrial Revolution was in full swing and entrepreneurs in England and America established their first companies to make chocolate for the masses. For centuries, chocolate had only been known as a foamy drink, consumed mainly by the royalty, aristocracy and clergy.

Already in 1850, the British medical journal The Lancet mentioned the creation of a health commission for the analysis of foods. According to the journal suspicions about the quality of the mass-produced chocolate proved correct: in 39 out 70 samples, chocolate had been adulterated with red brick powder. Similar results were obtained from samples of chocolate seized in France. The investigations led to the establishment of the British Food and Drug Act of 1860 and the Adulteration of Food Act of 1872.

A similar trend took place in the milk industry.

In Belgium, starting in 1900, machines were deployed to scale up butter production. Just two years later, the Belgian farmers’ organisation, the Boerenbond (Farmers’ League) decided to employ food consultants to check the administration, hygiene and quality of the dairies. In 1908, the Boerenbond established a food laboratory which it deemed necessary to help curb the increase in butter adulteration.

Now, more than a century later, the Covid-19 pandemic has exposed once more the vulnerability of a globalised food system with long supply chains. Slightly more than 50% of all food produced in Belgium is exported, including milk. As the demand from China dropped, this left farmers unable to sell dairy, meat and potatoes. Belgian dairy cooperatives also struggled to have sufficient packaging material, as this relied on imports of certain materials.

Such troubles are triggering people to rethink how to make our food system more sustainable. For a long time, food safety regulations were assumed to be the main pillar of a safe food system, but the pandemic has revealed that the complexity of a global food system makes it prone to breaking down, leaving producers and consumers vulnerable. Over the years, overly rigid food safety standards in Belgium have discouraged farmers from adding value to their own produce and selling it on their farm. Triggered by the crisis, the Belgian Minister for Agriculture, Denis Ducarme, has just reduced the stringency on food safety control for farm-made cheese. More will hopefully be done in the near future to encourage farmers to process and sell food on their farm. In these short food chains, farmers will be motivated to make clean, healthy products.

The food in Europe is reasonably safe and healthy, but Covid-19 has shown us how modern food systems are fragile. Burdensome regulations oppress smallholders until they are not even able to make a cheese for their neighbours. By investing in shorter food chains, we can make our food systems more resilient, and bring back the distinctive flavours of local foods.  Shorter, more adaptable food chains will build trust, while leaving the bricks to those who are building houses.

Further reading

Belgische Boerenbond. 1990. 100 Jaar Boerenbond in Beeld. 1890-1990. Dir. Eco-BB – S. Minten, Leuven, 199 pp.

Sophie D. Coe and Michael D. Coe. 1996. The True History of Chocolate. Thames and Hudson Ltd, London, 280 pp.

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Bakstenen eten

In België hebben we een uitdrukking: “alle Belgen worden geboren met een baksteen in hun maag”, wat betekent dat alle burgers ernaar streven ooit hun eigen huis te bouwen. Maar wanneer bakstenen letterlijk worden opgegeten, is er iets grondig misgegaan.

Zo’n 25 jaar geleden, tijdens een van mijn eerste projecten in Sri Lanka, kwam het nieuws naar buiten dat chilipoeder vermengd was met vermalen bakstenen. Sommige oplichters probeerden op een oneerlijke manier winst te maken. Gemalen chilipeper en baksteenpoeder hebben een vergelijkbare kleur en consistentie. Weinig kopers proeven het chilipoeder wanneer zij het kopen, en aangezien chilipeper gewoonlijk aan sauzen wordt toegevoegd en nooit rechtstreeks wordt gegeten, zou een oplichter die aan regionale of internationale markten levert voor klanten die hij soms nooit meer zou zien, met een dergelijke zwendel kunnen wegkomen. 

Gelukkig hebben we in Europa een lange geschiedenis van voedselveiligheidsnormen, voorschriften en overheidsinstellingen die de kwaliteit waarborgen van het voedsel dat op de markt komt en op ons bord belandt. Maar in veel ontwikkelingslanden ontbreken dergelijke systemen, zijn ze disfunctioneel of staan ze nog in de kinderschoenen.

Toch hebben veel ontwikkelingslanden een voordeel als het om voedselveiligheid gaat: korte voedselketens. Controlemaatregelen voor voedselveiligheid zijn minder belangrijk wanneer men vertrouwt op korte voedselketens. In Sri Lanka, bijvoorbeeld, bezocht ik vaak kruidentuinen waar stadsbewoners zwarte peper, chilipeper of kardemom insloegen. In de loop der jaren bouwden de klanten een vertrouwensrelatie op met de families die de kruidentuinen beheerden. Zelfs op de markten kennen de meeste verkopers hun vaste klanten en zouden zij nooit het risico nemen hen een vals product te verkopen. Leveranciers zijn gemotiveerd om kwaliteitsproducten te verkopen aan hun waardevolle, vaste klanten.

Tot voor kort was ik dit geval van versneden chilipeper vergeten. Toen ik het boek “The True History of Chocolate� las, werd ik getroffen door een bepaalde paragraaf over voedselvervalsing. Cacao had zich in de 19e eeuw verspreid van Latijns-Amerika naar Portugese, Spaanse, Engelse en Franse kolonies in Afrika en Azië. In 1828 nam de Nederlandse chemicus Coenraad Van Houten een patent op een proces om chocolade in poedervorm te maken met een zeer laag vetgehalte. De Industriële Revolutie was in volle gang en ondernemers in Engeland en Amerika richtten hun eerste bedrijven op om chocolade voor de massa te maken. Eeuwenlang was chocolade alleen bekend geweest als een schuimdrank, die vooral werd geconsumeerd door de adel, de aristocratie en de geestelijkheid.

Reeds in 1850 vermeldde het Britse medische tijdschrift The Lancet de oprichting van een gezondheidscommissie voor de analyse van voedingsmiddelen. Volgens het tijdschrift bleken de vermoedens over de kwaliteit van de in massa geproduceerde chocolade juist: in 39 van de 70 monsters was chocolade vermengd met rode baksteenpoeder. Vergelijkbare resultaten werden verkregen met in Frankrijk in beslag genomen chocolademonsters. De onderzoeken leidden tot de invoering van de Britse Food and Drug Act van 1860 en de Adulteration of Food Act van 1872.

Een soortgelijke ontwikkeling vond plaats in de melkindustrie. In België werden vanaf 1900 machines ingezet om de boterproductie op te voeren. Amper twee jaar later besloot de Belgische Boerenbond voedingsconsulenten in dienst te nemen om de administratie, hygiëne en kwaliteit van de zuivelfabrieken te controleren. In 1908 richtte de Boerenbond een voedingslaboratorium op, dat nodig werd geacht om de toename van het aantal botervervalsingen een halt toe te roepen.

Nu, meer dan een eeuw later, heeft de Covid-19-pandemie eens te meer de kwetsbaarheid blootgelegd van een geglobaliseerd voedselsysteem met lange leveringsketens. Iets meer dan 50% van alle in België geproduceerde levensmiddelen wordt uitgevoerd, ook melk. Toen de vraag uit China daalde, konden de boeren geen zuivel, vlees en aardappelen meer verkopen. Belgische zuivelcoöperaties hadden ook moeite om over voldoende verpakkingsmateriaal te beschikken, aangezien zij daarvoor afhankelijk waren van de invoer van bepaalde materialen.

Dergelijke problemen zetten mensen ertoe aan na te denken over hoe we ons voedselsysteem duurzamer kunnen maken. Lange tijd werden voedselveiligheidsvoorschriften beschouwd als de belangrijkste pijler van een veilig voedselsysteem, maar de pandemie heeft aan het licht gebracht dat het mondiale voedselsysteem zo complex is dat het gemakkelijk uit elkaar kan vallen, waardoor producenten en consumenten kwetsbaar worden.

In de loop der jaren hebben al te strenge voedselveiligheidsnormen in België boeren ervan weerhouden waarde toe te voegen aan hun eigen producten en deze op hun boerderij te verkopen. Naar aanleiding van de crisis heeft de Belgische minister van Landbouw, Denis Ducarme, onlangs de strenge controles op de voedselveiligheid voor op de boerderij gemaakte kaas versoepeld. Hopelijk zal er in de nabije toekomst meer worden gedaan om boeren aan te moedigen voedsel op hun boerderij te verwerken en te verkopen. In deze korte voedselketens zullen boeren gemotiveerd worden om schone, gezonde producten te maken.

Het voedsel in Europa is redelijk veilig en gezond, maar Covid-19 heeft ons laten zien hoe kwetsbaar moderne voedselsystemen zijn. Lastige regelgeving onderdrukt kleine boeren totdat ze niet eens meer in staat zijn om een kaas te maken voor hun buren.

Door te investeren in kortere voedselketens kunnen we onze voedselsystemen veerkrachtiger maken, en de kenmerkende smaken van lokaal voedsel terugbrengen.  Kortere, meer aanpasbare voedselketens zullen vertrouwen wekken, terwijl de bakstenen worden overgelaten aan degenen die huizen bouwen.

Lees meer

Belgische Boerenbond. 1990. 100 Jaar Boerenbond in Beeld. 1890-1990. Dir. Eco-BB – S. Minten, Leuven, 199 pp.

Sophie D. Coe and Michael D. Coe. 1996. The True History of Chocolate. Thames and Hudson Ltd, London, 280 pp.

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