Open grazing in Nigeria is nothing more than legalized land theft, disguised as tradition, while farmers and communities pay the price with their lives and livelihoods. By endorsing open grazing, Nigeria is choosing conflict over peace, destruction over productivity, and chaos over sustainable development.
It’s
time to stop grazing on old ideas. The endorsement by Nigeria’s Presidential
Livestock Reform Committee to continue open grazing for another ten years is
not just out of date—it’s out of place. Like trying to fit a square peg into a
round hole, this suggestion is not only dangerous but also economically,
socially, and environmentally disastrous. Endorsing open grazing in 2024 is
like promoting candle-making when the rest of the world is running on solar
power. Nigeria cannot afford this backward step, especially when the costs of
open grazing have proven catastrophic.
First,
let’s take a hard look at the trail of destruction left by open grazing. One of
the greatest tragedies associated with it is the violence between herders and
farmers. This isn’t just some isolated, unfortunate incidents—these conflicts
are chronic, systemic, and deadly. According to the Armed Conflict Location and
Event Data Project, at least 2,600 people were killed in 2021 due to
herder-farmer clashes. That’s not a statistic; that’s blood on the ground.
Farmers who work tirelessly to grow food for their families, their communities,
and their nation wake up to find their crops trampled by herds of cattle. The
economic losses are staggering, and the human toll is unspeakable.
In
the face of such devastation, the committee’s recommendation for a ten-year
extension of open grazing is nothing short of absurd. Other countries have
swiftly moved away from such archaic practices. Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew ended
nomadic pastoralism in just three months. No new ministry was needed, no
convoluted plan stretched over a decade. Yet, Nigeria, with its 58 million
cattle, is expected to allow these livestock to continue roaming, destroying
farmland and igniting conflict. Why drag this on for a decade when the country
is literally bleeding from the consequences?
Furthermore,
open grazing exacerbates Nigeria’s food insecurity, an issue already precarious
given the rising population and competition for arable land. In 2014, the
Global Terrorism Index placed Fulani herdsmen among the top four terrorist
organizations globally—a shocking statement on how deep-rooted the violence has
become. It’s not just food security at risk but the safety of entire
communities. Every time livestock wander onto farmlands, the risk of conflict
escalates. This isn’t just a story about cows eating crops—it’s a tale of
livelihoods being destroyed, tensions simmering, and lives being lost.
In
addition to violence, open grazing is leaving Nigeria’s ecosystems hanging by a
thread. Livestock wandering unchecked over vast areas leads to overgrazing, a
dangerous phenomenon that strips the land of vegetation and leaves soil
vulnerable to erosion. As the vegetation disappears, so does the hope for
sustainable agriculture. The ripple effects are severe: desertification
spreads, food production falters, and climate change tightens its grip. As
herders move southward in search of pastures, they encroach on forest reserves
and protected areas, threatening Nigeria’s biodiversity. It’s a cycle of
degradation—first the land, then the environment, and finally, the economy.
But
let’s not forget the public health risks. Open grazing is a ticking time bomb
for spreading diseases like foot-and-mouth disease and tuberculosis, both of
which can easily leap from livestock to humans. When animals roam uncontrolled,
monitoring their health becomes almost impossible. Instead of safeguarding
human and animal health, open grazing is a threat, an invitation for pandemics
that could devastate populations. This is not fear-mongering; it’s the ugly
truth of allowing livestock to wander unchecked.
Contrast
this with the benefits of ranching, a model that countries like Brazil and the
United States have embraced. Ranching allows for better control over livestock,
from breeding to feeding to veterinary care. The result? Healthier animals,
higher yields in meat and dairy, and a reduction in conflicts between herders
and farmers. Ranching isn’t just a more modern practice—it’s more economically
viable. It creates job opportunities, fosters sustainable agricultural
practices, and boosts the economy. Nigeria’s potential to thrive in this sector
is immense, but open grazing is the albatross around its neck, holding it back
from progress.
And
the argument that “abruptly ending open grazing would be counterproductive” is
as weak as they come. Yes, change requires adjustment. But ten years? That’s a
generation! It doesn’t take a decade to end a practice that is killing people,
destroying farmlands, and contributing to environmental collapse. Nigeria
cannot afford the luxury of a ten-year delay. The country is on the brink, and
if the leadership fails to act now, the costs will be counted in lives, land,
and lost opportunities.
Moreover,
the endorsement to maintain open grazing for another decade is woefully
ignorant of the global trend toward sustainable livestock practices. Across the
world, countries are moving away from wandering herds and adopting more
controlled, productive systems like ranching and feedlots. These systems not
only offer better economic returns, but they also ensure food security, protect
the environment, and maintain public health. Nigeria’s insistence on clinging
to open grazing is a stubborn refusal to evolve, much like trying to grow crops
in the desert while the rain falls elsewhere.
The
real solution is clear: Nigeria must modernize its livestock sector and do so
urgently. The committee’s recommendation to continue open grazing is a road to
nowhere. Worse, it’s a road littered with the bodies of those who have paid the
price for this outdated practice. The idea that open grazing can coexist with
modern agricultural development is a dangerous illusion. The country needs bold
leadership, not half-hearted measures that stretch a decade into the future.
The ranching model offers a way out, and it’s time Nigeria took that path.
If
Nigeria continues down this road of open grazing, it might as well start naming
its cattle after its lost opportunities. This is not a matter of tradition
versus progress; it’s a matter of survival. Open grazing is a relic of the
past, and trying to revive it is like giving CPR to a corpse. The only thing
that will be raised is more conflict, more poverty, and more environmental
degradation.
If
the Nigeria’s government cannot see that, perhaps they need new glasses—or
maybe a map to show them the way out of the wilderness they’ve wandered into.
No comments:
Post a Comment