It All Starts With A Seed

In a village blessed with plenty of sun, lived a farmer who was famous to all as Shujaa Jabali , Hero of the Soil. Her most valued treasure was the knowledge within her fingers and the seeds she stored, handed over to her by her mother, and her mother’s mother before them.

One day, she placed a small, puckered bean seed in the palm of her granddaughter. “Feel it, Kito,” she said. “It’s a soft promise, isn’t it? This is where our strength begins.”

Their combined hands, one weathered by experience, the other unlined with promise, pressed the seed into the dark, warm earth. “We have given it a home,” said Shujaa Jabali. “Now, the rain will be its teacher, and the sun its alarm clock.” Kito stood guard, and early one morning, a miracle: a valiant green spear thrust through the darkness, reaching for the light.

From the single shot, a good leafy green plant sprouted. “See how it stands?” her grandmother commented. “It is a sun-powered factory, turning light into life.” Subsequently, the plant was capped with delicate purple flowers. “The message has been sent!” Shujaa Jabali breathed.

The air pulsed with bees, legs heavy with dust of gold. “These are our most vital allies, Kito,” she explained. “They are the messengers of life. Without their dance from flower to flower, there’d be no beans, no sustenance. We protect them, and they keep us alive.”

When the magic of the bees was done, the flowers began their beautiful transformation. They slumped with intent, making way for lean, green pods that swelled with promise. Kito watched in wonder as they matured. Shujaa Jabali finally opened one of the pods and sliced it in half. Inside was a row of perfect, plump beans,the promise fulfilled.

That evening, Mama Amani cooked the beans with maize and scented spices. The aroma was a prayer of nourishment. When they ate the rich stew, Mama Amani addressed them. “This meal says our story. It began as a seed that your grandmother guarded. It expanded under her wisdom, was pollinated by the bees we provide a haven for, and is now served with love. This is our cycle of strength.”

Kito looked at the powerful women at their table, her mind filled with understanding. Her grandmother was not just a farmer; she was a scientist, an ecologist, and a leader.

That was when Shujaa Jabali reached into her pouch and poured out a spill of seeds on the table, maize, millet, beans, greens. “Kito,” she said, her voice clear and strong, “this is our true wealth. Whoever holds the seed, holds the story. When we save our seeds, we hold our food. We take our freedom. This is seed sovereignty, it is our freedom. But this story cannot end with us.”

Shujaa Jabali looked at Kito, then at you, the reader. “And so, our story becomes your mission.”

Be the guardian of the seed, as we have. The future of our food, our freedom, and our planet is in your hands. Your work begins with one seed.