In 1989 I travelled to Kiembara, a village about 50km (31 miles) south of Ouahigouya in the north west of Burkina Faso.  The farmers’ barns stood empty. The harvest season had been a disaster. Despair was raging in the villages. The farmers recalled the 1972 to 1974 famine.  One morning I saw the entire population of a village suddenly get up and leave on foot, taking with them all their belongings loaded on mule carts, in search of more fertile land.

We had heard of the farmers in the Yatenga Naam village associations. They had found new hope since they started laying stone lines and digging Zaï pockets on their land. We organised a study tour in order to find out more.

The farmers came back enthusiastic from the tour. Hope was beginning to return. However, I could not understand what was up. I saw no one set out to start the work: no lines of stone laid, no more piling of compost than before the tour. But finally it dawned on me: they were simply caught in an emergency, too busy with the sheer toil of surviving and providing the next meal for their family.

Fortunately the next season was a good one. The farmers, no longer shackled to the task of securing their daily bread, could now go ahead with the work.  All were summoned to bring their carts for the transport of stone. Those who had not yet started their compost ditch began digging. During April and May the farmers prepared the zaï pockets (pot holes) on their land and transported the compost on site.

 From the first year the results were spectacular. Farmers who used to harvest 200 to 600 kg per hectare of millet or sorghum now had a yield of 1 400 kg/hectare (3086 £ of sorghum/2.71 acres). It must be noted that when the field is slanted (or even just a slight slope) it is absolutely necessary to surround it with  stone lines. Otherwise there is the risk that the first rains will wash away all the compost …

 A few km from Kiembara there was a village which had a shortage of water. From the end of December all the wells – and there were many – had run dry. The land was flat. It was not possible to build any real water barrier. But there was a slight slope and during our study tour we had seen a village with identical problems. There the farmers had built a water retainer system made of stone. The height of its wall was not even one metre (3.2 feet). It did not stop the water altogether, but slowed the flow and let it trickle through. In this way a good quantity of water could penetrate into the soil and replenish the ground water. During the dry season all the tour villagers rallied to build their own retainer wall. It took only one dry season for all the wells to fill up and life again became liveable. Hope returned.

 The traditional practice of protecting the Acacia albida (the balanzan tree in the bambara language and Zanga in mooré)  is well known and it is also very efficient in the preservation of soil fertility. The tree sheds its leaves at the beginning of the rainy season. Under the blanket of fallen leaves, the yield of millet doubles and the maize crop will increase by 75%.  Not surprisingly the Sérères people of Senegal and the Samo of Burkina Faso have given it the rank of   “king of traditional agroforestry”.