Salikenni women’s garden faces devastation — cattle invasions threaten to wipe out their livelihood

- Advertisment -spot_img
- Advertisement -

By Lamin SM Jaiteh

Perched on a hill at the outskirts of Salikenni village lies a sprawling horticultural garden that is more than just a patch of land—it is the lifeline for many women in the community. For over seven decades, this garden has been a place where women nurture crops that sustain their families and cultivate friendships that strengthen the fabric of their lives.

Yet, behind the greenery lies a story of struggle and heartbreak. For years, these women have fought to protect their crops from an unexpected enemy: cattle.

- Advertisement -

Herds roam freely in the area, breaking through the garden’s fragile wooden fences to trample and graze on plants painstakingly nurtured for months. The damage is devastating. What should be a source of joy and sustenance has become a battleground, and the women are exhausted, frustrated, and desperate for a solution.

A garden born from community spirit
The Salikenni horticultural garden is the result of collective effort and determination. The land, situated on a hill that overlooks the village, was once underutilised. It was the women who saw potential in the soil and dreamed of transforming it into a flourishing garden.

In recent years, their vision is supported by the Njeng juli Kilin Diaspora Association, a group of village natives who now live abroad but have never lost touch with their roots.

- Advertisement -

Through the association’s initiative, a borehole was installed, providing a reliable water source that breathed life into the garden. This borehole was more than just infrastructure—it was a symbol of hope and connection, linking the women of Salikenni with their kin overseas. Mr Abu Kalleh, a business entrepreneur based in the USA and a native of the village, who is introducing a series of agricultural support initiatives, has also been helpful in providing seeds and a market for the produce.

Thanks to these vital resources, the garden blossomed, with rows of spring onions, aubergines, tomatoes, chilli peppers and other vegetables thriving under the careful hands of the women.

For many, the garden is their main source of income. They sell the surplus crops at local markets, putting food on their families’ tables and paying school fees for their children. But beyond economic value, the garden is a sanctuary—a safe space where women gather, share stories, exchange knowledge and forge bonds that transcend daily hardships. It is a rare place in the village where women’s voices come together in laughter and solidarity.

Cattle: The unforeseen invaders
Despite the garden’s success, a persistent problem undermines the women’s hard work: uncontrolled cattle grazing. The village’s cattle roam freely across the outskirts, and the garden’s fences—constructed from thin wooden sticks and branches—offer little resistance. Time and again, herds break through, trampling seedlings and mature plants alike.

The women describe the scene with a mix of anger and sorrow. “When we come to the garden after a day’s work, we find the crops destroyed,” says Fadiya Camara, one of the garden’s lead cultivators. “The cattle have eaten everything. It’s like watching your future being eaten away.”

The damage is not only financial but emotional. Each plant lost represents hours of labour, dreams of a better future, and the hope of independence. For many women, this garden is their main source of income; losing crops means losing the ability to support their families.

Attempts for redress and the weight of silence
Over the years, the women have reported the invasions to village leaders and local authorities. They sought assistance in finding a lasting solution—stronger fencing, cattle control measures, or community agreements to keep the herds away from the garden. Unfortunately, their calls for help have been met with indifference or empty promises.

“We have spoken to the elders, the local chief, and even the cattle owners,” explains Naato Fatajo, the gardening group’s leader. “But nothing changes. The cattle keep coming, and we keep losing our crops.”

This lack of support has sown frustration and tension. The women feel caught between their need to protect their livelihoods and the social realities of village life, where cattle ownership is a source of pride and economic security for many families. Confronting cattle owners can be sensitive, yet the damage caused by the grazing is undeniable.

As the losses mount, so does the anxiety among the women. Some have had to reduce the size of their plots; others are considering giving up gardening altogether. This would be a devastating blow—not just economically but socially. The garden is a rare space where women find strength in unity, away from the pressures and divisions of village life.

The garden as a social sanctuary
The importance of the Salikenni horticultural garden goes beyond crops and money. For many women, it is a refuge where they can gather without judgment or interruption. The garden fosters social ties that are vital for emotional well-being in a community where women often bear heavy burdens.

In the garden, friendships are nurtured alongside seedlings. Women share advice on planting and harvesting, swap recipes, and support each other through life’s ups and downs. The garden provides a sense of belonging, a place where women’s contributions are visible and valued.

Losing the garden to cattle grazing would mean more than economic hardship; it would mean the loss of a critical social space. This adds urgency to the women’s plea for help.

A call for help: fencing as a solution
The women of Salikenni are now united in a clear demand: they need a strong, durable fence around their 1000-square-metre garden. Something that can withstand the pressure of roaming cattle and protect their crops from destruction.

A well-built fence would do more than just keep cattle out. It would restore the women’s confidence, safeguard their incomes, and preserve the garden as a space for social connection. It would be a tangible investment in the village’s future, supporting women’s empowerment and community resilience.

The cost of such fencing is beyond the women themselves. Materials, labour, and maintenance require funding and technical expertise. That’s why the women are appealing to anyone—local leaders, NGOs, government agencies, diaspora groups, or private donors—with the means to help.

The Njeng juli Kilin Diaspora Association has already shown what can be done with commitment and resources. Their borehole transformed the garden. Now, with external support, the garden could be shielded from further harm.

Broader implications: Women, agriculture and community development
The situation in Salikenni reflects a broader challenge faced by rural communities across many regions. Women often play critical roles in agriculture and household food security, yet they face disproportionate barriers, including limited access to land, water, and protection from external threats.

Uncontrolled cattle grasing is a common problem in mixed-farming communities, where land-use conflicts arise between crop farmers and pastoralists. Finding sustainable solutions requires dialogue, respect for rights, and investment in infrastructure—like fencing—that can mediate competing needs.

Supporting women’s horticultural projects are not just about crops; it’s about empowering a vital segment of the population, enhancing food security, and fostering social cohesion. The garden on Salikenni’s hill is a microcosm of these larger issues.

Looking ahead: hope and resilience
Despite the setbacks, the women of Salikenni remain hopeful. Their garden is a testament to their resilience, creativity, and determination. They continue to tend their crops, share their knowledge, and support one another.

They know that with the right support, the garden can thrive again—strong, protected, and abundant. It can continue to be a place where women grow more than just food; where they grow community, strength and dreams.

The call for help is clear. The garden needs a fence, but more importantly, it needs people to listen, to care, and to act.

In the rolling hills outside Salikenni village, the women wait—ready to reclaim their garden’s promise, if only they can be given the chance.

Join The Conversation
- Advertisment -spot_img
- Advertisment -spot_img
- Advertisment -spot_img