By Kolawole Ogunbiyi
Across Nigeria’s farming communities, a quiet tragedy is unfolding, one that is often invisible to policymakers, traders, and consumers. This year, farmers worked harder than ever. They endured the soaring cost of renting farmland, battled skyrocketing prices of fertilizers and chemicals, paid labourers at rates far beyond previous seasons, and still found themselves racing against the constant intrusion of herders and cattle on their farms. Yet, when the harvest finally came, the reward for all that sweat and sacrifice was a devastating crash in grain prices.
Farming has never been a simple venture, but 2025 pushed many farmers to their limits. Renting farmland became a luxury as prices doubled or tripled in some communities. Inputs such as herbicides, pesticides, and fertilizers were priced in line with global inflation, foreign exchange volatility, and supply-chain disruptions. For many farmers, every trip to the market was a reminder that the cost of planting had become nearly unbearable.
Labour, once readily available, became another hurdle, the profiteering from 2024 harvest skyrockets the demand from labourers in 2025 coupled with a higher number of investors in farm business in 2025. This is further compounded by the rate of young people migrating to cities, leaving fewer hands behind. Those who remained demanded higher wages to cope with rising living costs. Farmers paid because they had no choice—seeds wouldn’t plant themselves or harvest done magically.
Across parts of the North-Central and North-West, herder intrusions became a daily battle. Overnight, cattle invaded farms, destroying months of hard work within minutes. Many farmers slept on farmlands, standing guard like soldiers at war. Still, countless farms were ruined, no compensation, no justice, no protection, rather, death threat, physical attacks are daily experiences. Herders with their cattle are waiting and hurrying you to harvest your grains to enable them feed their cattle with what you couldn’t salvage. I had a bitter experience when over one and half hectares were ravaged by cattle, whom do you hold responsible when no one could be apprehended. What do you do when you harvest an hectare of beans farm with the hope of harvesting the remaining the following day but returned with nothing left in the farm, the whole farm has been destroyed by herders and their cattle?
After surviving all these hurdles, farmers hoped this year’s harvest would bring relief at least, enough to repay loans, buy food for their families, settle school fees of their children, pay other bills, and prepare for the next planting season. Instead, the market betrayed them.
Grain prices crashed, falling far below production cost. Most farmers now sell at a loss. Those who borrowed money face creditors. Those who struggled to feed their families during planting must now struggle again during harvest. The irony is painful, farmers who fed the nation cannot feed themselves.
The current crash did not happen in isolation. It is the result of multiple systemic issues. Unlike farmers in developed countries who enjoy minimum price guarantees, Nigerian farmers gamble every season with no safety net. When many farmers harvest at the same time, grain floods the market. Without government storage or private silos, prices collapse. Even limited grain importation can distort local market prices. Many farmers borrow from informal lenders with high interest rates. A poor market year can mean long-term debt or loss of property. Though, many invested into farming in year 2025 even in the face of fear of violence which was demonstrated by herders mostly in north central, what they harvested is still undervalued.
Behind every low grain price is a farmer in pain: A father who cannot pay school fees of his or her children, a widow who farms to support her children but now faces debts, A young graduate who ventured into agriculture but may never try again, an elderly farmer who has spent 40 years farming yet has nothing to show for this year’s labour.
These realities rarely make it to newspapers. Markets will report low prices as a “relief for consumers,” but seldom will they report the tears behind those low prices.
If Nigeria truly values food security, then it must begin by valuing the farmer. There is urgent need for price stabilisation policies to guarantee minimum prices for grains. Government must work with private sector to increase investment in storage and processing facilities to reduce glut during harvest. Farmlands with investment in hundreds of thousands of naira, in some places, millions of naira are destroyed without any compensation; victims are a times get killed when they struggle for justice. In view of this, stronger protection for farmers against herder intrusion and farm destruction must be at the top agenda of state actors. Government must support individuals and cooperatives with affordable access to inputs such as chemicals, fertilizers, seeds, and equipment. There must be a credit system that respect the realities of smallholder farmers.
Farmers don’t need charity—they need fairness, protection, and policies that recognise their role in feeding the nation.
Conclusively, this year’s grain price crash is more than an economic issue; it is a human crisis. It is a reminder that behind every bag of maize, millet, sorghum, or beans are farmers who struggled, borrowed, prayed, and fought to ensure there would be food for everyone.
As the nation enjoys relatively cheaper grains, we must remember that “the farmers also cry.” And unless something changes, their tears may eventually become the nation’s hunger.
Kolawole Ogunbiyi, Esq, sent in this piece via ogunbiyikolawole@gmail.com
