On this Farmers Day, the nation pauses to applaud the men and women who do the one thing none of us can outsource to WhatsApp: grow our food. Every year we celebrate them, and every year we discover that the applause is never quite enough for the people who feed a country that often forgets how much work goes into a simple bowl of waakye.
If you ask the average Ghanaian to describe a farmer, you’ll hear about strength, grit and dawn-to-dusk labour. But the true picture is even more impressive. Farmers are the only professionals who can predict the weather better than the Meteorological Agency, negotiate with stubborn weeds, and still harvest enough to supply the entire nation and its diaspora cousins who pack kenkey like contraband in their suitcases.
And they do all this while wrestling with unreliable rains, rising costs, broken tractors, and political promises that sprout beautifully in campaign season but somehow never make it to harvest. Yet the farmers remain, planting, hoping, praying and producing.
Take a moment to imagine Ghana without them. No jollof wars. No fufu diplomacy. No kontomire stew to rescue broke students at month-end. Even social media would suffer. What would food bloggers post? Air? Without farmers, we would be forced to confront our true selves, and no society is ready for that level of vulnerability.
Beyond humour, the hard facts remain. Agriculture still employs a large share of the population. It keeps rural economies alive. It stabilises households. It feeds industries. It anchors our cultural identity. Every grain, tuber and pod carries a story of resilience shaped by early mornings, bent backs and quiet determination.
So today, as dignitaries gather, speeches fly and awards are handed out, it’s worth asking what farmers would truly want if given the microphone. Probably not another slogan. Maybe consistent access to credit, roads that won’t swallow their produce trucks, extension officers who actually show up, input prices that don’t give hypertension, and a market structure that pays fairly.
Some might even request a Farmers’ SIM card that never needs re-registration. They’ve earned that.
Until that day comes, we celebrate them with humour, but also with respect. They are the steady hands behind our daily meals, the silent partners in every restaurant menu and the unsung economists stabilising food supply.
Ghana’s farmers are national treasures. If wisdom had a farm, they’d be its caretakers. And if gratitude were maize, we would still owe them several acres.
Happy Farmers Day to the people who keep Ghana fed, nourished and grounded. May their yields grow, their burdens lighten and their government programmes germinate more reliably than they currently do.
