When the Rains Vanish: From Kenya’s Savannah to Ghana’s Nakori, Stories of Climate Survival

A YACC Ghana Documentary Feature Inspired by the Pulitzer Center and Community Voices of Nakori

In northern Kenya, a farmer stood over the body of his last cow and whispered: “The animals used to support us, but now we support them.” His grief was captured by the Pulitzer Center in its story of a continent teetering on the edge of famine.

Thousands of miles west, in Nakori, a farming community in the Upper West Region of Ghana, the words strike too close to home. “Last year, the rains stopped too early. We didn’t get food,” recalls an elder, echoing the same despair.

The story, “Climate Change is Driving Millions to the Precipice of a ‘Raging Food Catastrophe’” reported in the Horn of Africa, highlights how “climate-induced drought is exposing cracks in the global food system.”

The Vanishing Rains

For generations, Ghana’s savannah communities relied on the wisdom of birds, insects, and trees to guide their farming seasons. “When Red-chested Cuckoo chirped, we knew it was planting season,” said one Nakori elder. “When black ants moved uphill, rain was certain.”

But today, those signs are broken. Mango trees fruit out of season, shea yields dwindle, and rainfall patterns defy prediction. As one farmer put it, “The sun still rises from the east, but why are we in this situation? If we don’t check our actions, Kenya’s story will look better than ours.”

Animals and People at Risk

In Kenya, the Pulitzer story showed families who could no longer feed the animals that once sustained them. In Nakori, the same fear plays out. Livestock wander long distances in search of pasture and often never return.

“We used to have animals,” says Abudu Busanaa. “Now, if you don’t house them, you’ll return from the farm to meet none.”

This loss not only reduces food security but erodes the cultural wealth tied to livestock rearing — bride prices, festive sacrifices, and daily sustenance.

Deforestation and Its Wounds

From Kenya’s acacia groves to Ghana’s shea trees, deforestation is both a symptom and a driver of crisis.

Frederick Doma, Wa Municipal Agriculture Director, warned during a community engagement in Nakori: “Tree felling and slash-and-burn farming are killing our land. Be intentional in planting trees, or we will have no future.”

Community voices admitted the painful truth. “Women cut trees because of hardship,” said Adijah Musah, while another elder pointed to men with chainsaws felling giant trees for export. Shea and dawadawa, once lifelines for nutrition and income, are now turned into charcoal for survival.

One farmer reflected with grief: “Any woman with three bags of shea nut can buy three bags of maize, but today, women are cutting shea trees for charcoal. Both men and women are victims.”

Intergenerational Knowledge

The crisis has also silenced traditions. Elders recall rituals of gratitude after harvest: every household contributed food to a communal feast, where disputes were settled, and the land was blessed for another season. “Today, these practices are gone,” said an elderly woman.

Others remembered how the flowering of the Parkia biglobosa (locust bean tree) once signaled the three phases of rain needed for successful farming. Now those rains have vanished. “It was simple,” said 98-year-old Haruna Shaibu. “When women began to cut trees for charcoal, the rains began to stop.”

Youth pointed to new dangers undermining resilience: bush burning, excessive use of weedicides, and soil exhaustion. “Bush burning has become rampant. And the weedicides are killing soil organisms and nutrients,” said Sahada Sumaila.

The Way Forward

Despite the hardships, Nakori is not giving up. In intergenerational forums organized by Youth Alliance for Community Change (YACC Ghana), elders and youth pledged to halt deforestation, embrace agroforestry, and adopt dry-season gardening.

“If we stop tree felling for just three years, you will see how rainfall rebounds,” urged Elder Haruna. Others proposed community by-laws against indiscriminate tree cutting, coupled with alternative livelihoods such as irrigation farming.

The Municipal Director promised to advocate for Nakori’s dam to be prioritized for irrigation expansion, while youth called for government and NGOs to provide economic trees for planting.

“We have to be measured in our use of chemical inputs,” one woman explained, describing how her entire field failed after overusing weedicide. “If care is not taken, a time will come when the soil will no longer support crops.”

Conclusion

The Pulitzer Center’s story warned that Africa is on the brink of catastrophe. Nakori’s voices show this catastrophe is not future tense — it is already here. But they also show something else: resilience.

Rooted in both ancient wisdom and urgent innovation, the people of Nakori are reminding the world that survival depends on collective action.

From Kenya to Ghana, the savannah is calling. The question is: will we listen?

—— a documentary feature by Youth Alliance for Community Change (YACC Ghana) as part of its “Intergenerational Storytelling for Climate Justice in Savannah Ghana” project inspired by the Pulitzer Center reporting and supported under the Africa Climate and Environment (ACE) initiative.