The sun over Nyatike doesn’t rise — it blazes. By midday, the ground is hot enough to bake bread. Cracks run deep through the soil, and the wind, when it comes, carries more dust than comfort.
Yet in the heart of this dry land, a quiet miracle is unfolding.
In a place once dismissed as too dry, too remote, and too unforgiving for agriculture, a new story is being written — one of hope, resilience, and bold reinvention. The dusty fields of Nyatike, in Migori County, are greening. Crops are sprouting where only thorns once grew. Farmers, once resigned to hunger and hardship, are now becoming champions of climate-smart agriculture.
This isn’t a tale of overnight change. It’s a story of sweat, stubbornness, and seeds — both literal and figurative.
A Harvest Where None Was Expected
Take a walk down a village path in Nyatike today, and you’ll likely pass neat rows of cassava, thriving sweet potatoes, even rice paddies. Children dart between plots carrying water, while elders proudly inspect their leafy fields. It’s a scene that, just a few years ago, would have seemed like a dream.
“I never thought I’d see my land look like this,” says Gorrety, a middle-aged farmer in Nyatike whose name has become synonymous with sustainable farming in the region.
Her small farm is a mosaic of resilience. Cassava grows tall beside carefully spaced trees. Shade nets stretch over tender seedlings. In the corner, humming bees flit around wooden hives, a secondary income source she’s added thanks to training in integrated farming.
“Before, everything I planted dried up,” she says. “Now I harvest more than I need—and even sell some.”

The Turning Point
The transformation of Nyatike didn’t begin with a grand government announcement or a massive donor-funded project. It started with a question: What if farming could work here—differently?
That question led to the introduction of Farmer-Managed Natural Regeneration (FMNR), drought-resistant seeds, agroforestry, and rainwater harvesting—techniques specifically suited for dryland farming. Slowly but surely, things began to change.
Then came the support. In 2024, the Migori County government stepped in with a lifeline: over KES 28 million worth of certified seeds distributed to more than 16,000 farmers, covering nearly 13,000 acres of land. Alongside this, affordable tractor services were rolled out to help farmers prepare their land efficiently.
“These are not handouts,” says a county agricultural officer. “They’re investments—tools to give farmers a fighting chance.”
The results have been nothing short of revolutionary.

Farming, Reimagined
At the heart of Nyatike’s green revolution is innovation. And at its soul are farmers like Gorrety, who are reimagining what farming can look like.
Where monoculture once ruled, now stands agroforestry: a dance of maize and moringa, cassava and neem. Indigenous trees are not just for shade—they improve soil structure, attract pollinators, and even act as windbreaks. Rainwater, once lost to runoff, is now collected in hand-dug earth pans and rooftop tanks.
But perhaps most striking of all is the community spirit that’s emerged. Farmers have formed informal groups to share tips, tools, and sometimes even seeds.
“We’re no longer farming alone,” says Gorrety. “We learn from each other, help each other, grow together.”
From Lake to Land: The Power of Irrigation
Just a few kilometers from Gorrety’s farm lies Lake Victoria—its sparkling waters a silent observer to Nyatike’s hardships and triumphs.
For years, the lake was a missed opportunity. But with the formation of Migori County’s Blue Economy Department, that’s changing. Irrigation schemes are drawing water from the lake to feed thirsty crops inland.
In 2022, the county secured 100 acres under irrigation for sweet potato farming. The results? Steady crops, better yields, and a buffer against dry spells.

Alongside this, fish farming is on the rise. Farmers are digging ponds, raising tilapia, and turning once-barren land into protein-producing enterprises.
“We’ve seen what’s possible,” says an agricultural extension officer. “The question now is how far we can go.”
The Road Still Bumpy
For all the gains, Nyatike’s farmers still face uphill battles.
Ask Peter Ochar, a rice farmer in Lower Kuja, and he’ll point to one major problem: delayed payments.
“We deliver our rice, then wait months to get paid,” he says. “Meanwhile, the planting season comes, and we can’t afford seeds or labor.”
Tractor shortages during peak seasons also create bottlenecks. Demand skyrockets, prices rise, and some farmers are forced to plant late—or not at all.
“There’s still work to do,” says the county officer. “We need stronger cooperatives, better roads, and more predictable markets.”
A Blueprint for Drylands Everywhere
Despite the challenges, Nyatike’s story is catching attention far beyond Migori County. Agricultural experts and climate policy makers are looking at this small, dusty region as a model for what’s possible when local innovation meets institutional support.
“This is what resilience looks like,” says a regional climate advisor from an NGO partner. “Nyatike isn’t just surviving climate change—it’s adapting, evolving, and leading.”
In a world where climate chaos is increasingly the norm, Nyatike offers a rare and precious lesson: that even the harshest places can bloom—if we dare to try new things.
Back at her farm, Gorrety crouches beside a line of green sweet potato vines, gently brushing away dust.
“They used to call this a desert,” she says with a smile. “Now, it’s my garden