Going Organic in Pakistan

LAHORE – Being a woman in the male-dominated field of farming in Pakistan is the least of Samiya Mumtaz's problems. This 25-year-old pioneer from Lahore says she faces more resistance as a shehri, a city dweller, "who supposedly does not know agriculture."

An even bigger problem, it seems, is the kind of 'agriculture' she proposes. For Ms Mumtaz is one of a small but growing breed of environmentally-conscious farmers who are seeking to undo the legacy of the so-called Green Revolution that took the country by storm in the 1970s.

The farmers who have gone organic believe that reliance on fertilisers and pesticides is short-sighted. They are extremely critical of the government's campaign to convince farmers to let go of their traditional practices, as it can only ruin productivity in the long run. They have even let go of their practice of dividing land into two portions: one with high-cost chemical inputs for the market, the other chemical-free, for home consumption.

Artificial methods and fast-growing hybrids threaten to obliterate indigenous crop varieties. It took Ms Mumtaz two years to locate a farmer who still used deli (indigenous) wheat. Not exactly a discovery one would expect to electrify a young, female, upper- middle class city-dweller—but then, Ms Mumtaz has unusual pursuits. She plans to grow the indigenous wheat on the 16-acre organic farm she runs in the Punjab plains outside Lahore.

The farm, bought over two years ago, in partnership with seven friends and relatives, meant making Ms Mumtaz's dream of putting her environmental beliefs into reality. She hopes to prove that agriculture in Pakistan can flourish by using indigenous methods and low-cost inputs.

She is not entirely alone in her organic interests. A few scientists at the University of Agriculture at Faisalabad (formerly Lyallpur), are working to develop ecologically friendly biological fertiliSers, and there is now an All Pakistan Organic Farmers Association. The Association's President, Syed Asad Hussain Shah, is reclaiming unproductive land using bio-fertilisers.

Mr Shah came to Ms Mumtaz's aid after salinity had consumed three acres of her land and threatened other patches. His solution: plant the indigenous kallar grass, which actually feeds on salinity. Ms Mumtaz, who is still using kallar, explains: "You can tell that the soil has been desalinated when the grass starts dying. While using gypsum, there is no way to know if you've got the right proportions and you have to keep testing to see if the soil is fertile again."

Kallar use, apparently an ancient method of coping with salinity, is now being rediscovered by organic farmers. Ms Mumtaz says part of her crusade is to convince farmers that their old ways are also scientifically sound. "They insist that the productivity of their land is due to chemical fertilisers, whereas the fact that they automatically throw food waste and peelings onto the dung heap is probably what does the trick."

Says Ms Mumtaz: "My first harvest was a disaster, the soil was so poor, and the locals felt vindicated in their scepticism. But this year my vegetables have been good and they are now taking a second look at my, compost heap, which was their way until the Green Revolution came along."