The above is the same fate that befell the wheat in Nyandarua. The farmers worked so hard to farm the wheat but their single buyer, National Cereal and Produce Board, a Government ran Parastatal fleeced the farmers paying them peanuts for their wheat.
At the height of its productivity sometimes in the late 1970s, my father did not bring in the tractors to plow the 20 plus acres reserved for wheat. We were smart enough not to ask, so we watched with bated breath. The season passed and cows continued grazing in those fertile fields that had yielded so much wheat over the years. We thought he was taking a break and will be back the next year. Nope. Those 20 acres were eventually fenced off and divided into paddocks for animal rotation.
The land went fallow and that is when we realized, wheat planting was not in the cards any more, just like for so many other farmers in Nyandarua. Somehow, it was a relief for us kids, but I am sure it was devastating for our parents. That was an income slashed from their family budget, not because their farms were not productive, not because their wheat was not first grade quality, not because they did not desire to farm anymore, but only because there was nobody to buy their precious crop. Try and wrap your mind around that for a minute.
These were expansive acreage of farms, very productive, with willing farmers to produce as much as they could to feed a hungry nation. They did their part over the years, but their heavy investment had no returns. They crunched their numbers and realized their farms were better off fallow than putting in so much of their time, sweat and hard earned money, all year long, with nothing to show for it.
That was the end of cash crops on our farm, and on many other farms in OlKalou. The lush green fields with young wheat swaying in the wind, then turning golden just before harvest, became a thing of the past. And in the past it has remained. For the rest of our growing years, we did not see a single farmer in OlKalou growing wheat. I still feel a sting of sadness when I remember those glorious days of flourishing farms everywhere you looked. That was the Nyandarua we grew up in and it was a sight to behold.
