Dollar Cannot Stop Us: The Silent Revolution of Nigerian Farmers- comrade Sanni Inuwa Baba

Every week, Nigerians wake up to new exchange rates. The dollar rises, the Naira falls, and the headlines scream panic. People rush to the markets to buy food before prices change again. Traders argue with customers; parents calculate which meal to skip. For many, it feels like life is being controlled not from Abuja, not from Lagos, but from Washington, by the almighty dollar.

But while the dollar dominates our headlines, something else is quietly happening across Nigeria. It is not loud, it is not televised, but it is powerful. It is happening in the red soil of Benue, the rice fields of Kebbi, the cassava farms of Kogi, the yam barns of Plateau, and the soya plantations of Kaduna. It is the silent revolution of the Nigerian farmer.

For too long, Nigeria has measured its strength in oil prices and foreign reserves. Yet every economic crisis reminds us that we cannot eat oil, and we cannot cook foreign reserves into a meal. When the naira falls, the cost of imported rice shoots up. When the dollar rises, bread becomes a luxury. But here is the truth: the strength of Nigeria is not in the dollar, it is in the soil.

Every time a farmer harvests maize, every time cassava is peeled, every time beans are sold in local markets, Nigeria reclaims a little independence. A plate of local rice, a bowl of garri, a pot of yam porridge, these are not just meals, they are acts of resistance. They remind us that no exchange rate can stop a nation that feeds itself.

We often say “agriculture is the new oil,” but it must move from slogan to reality. Oil built skyscrapers in Abuja and Lagos, but it did not feed the nation. Oil brought dollars, but it also brought dependency. Agriculture, on the other hand, sustains life. One hectare of rice supports more families than any oil block. One storage facility can stabilize food prices more effectively than a loan from the IMF.

Yet, despite this truth, the Nigerian farmer remains abandoned. He plants in hope but harvests in fear, fear of floods, insecurity, poor roads, and middlemen who take all the profit. She toils in the sun but cannot access credit or machinery. They are heroes without medals, the invisible backbone of our survival.

Nigeria must decide: will we continue to chase the dollar, or will we invest in the soil? Will we remain a nation that imports its breakfast, or will we trust the land beneath our feet? Will we depend on foreign exchange, or will we cultivate local resilience?

If the answer is agriculture, then we must act. Farmers need more than praise; they need infrastructure. They need access to affordable fertilizers, irrigation systems, and extension services. They need protection from bandits and kidnappers. They need leaders who understand that farming is not “village work,” it is national security.

If Nigeria truly wants freedom, it must start from the farms. The youth must see agriculture not as punishment, but as opportunity. Technology must meet tradition, turning hoes into tractors and markets into supply chains. Civil society must campaign not just for votes, but for seeds, silos, and storage facilities.

We must remind ourselves: a hungry nation cannot be a strong nation. A dependent nation cannot be a free nation.

The Silent Revolution

Even today, in the midst of hardship, the silent revolution continues. The farmer in Nasarawa wakes at dawn. The woman selling tomatoes in Jos negotiates with a smile. The rice millers in Ebonyi keep grinding. These are the real soldiers of Nigeria’s economy. They are proving, meal by meal, that the dollar cannot defeat us.

The future will not be written in oil blocks. It will not be written in foreign loans. It will not be written in IMF reports. The future of Nigeria will be written in the soil, watered by sweat, and harvested with hope.

Dollar cannot stop us. Hunger cannot defeat us. Nigeria will rise from the soil.