Agros Blog

Agros is a learning organization; we see ourselves and conduct ourselves that way. In 1999, when Agros decided to start a new agricultural village in the Rivas area of Nicaragua, we were technically already over ten years old. One of the lessons we have learned since then is about land quality. For this village that would later be called “Futuro del Mañana” (Tomorrow’s Future), we bought the best we could afford at the time. It was an oddly-shaped piece of land, thin and narrow, that spanned over a ridge, but we knew that once we bought it, we would accomplish our goal of helping some of the rural poor in Nicaragua own land.

Our second lesson was about priorities. In those days, we thought that it would be a good thing for the villagers to build housing on the land first, before it was cultivated. The pride of ownership and community participation effect of building together would help bond the community. We were only partially right there.

I recently visited Futuro del Mañana. The Agros Nicaragua staff members tell us that all of the families will have paid off their land by early next year. The group accompanying me wanted to hear about the early days of the community, and what’s happened since. Three men from the village had agreed to tell us the story of their own journeys towards land ownership at Futuro.

It’s a story with a rough beginning.

Pablo told us: “In those days when we were building, we had nothing to eat for 18 months. God provided for us somehow…. Eventually, I was earning enough to save money in the bank, and pay off my loan. But then I discovered that the bank does not pay you much for your savings. So I invested my savings in cattle, and that made much more for me.”

“We worked for 18 months without income, without food,” José Luis added, “If you asked me to do it again today, I would refuse. I could not even cultivate my own piece of land, it wasn’t good enough.”

But José Luis discovered something else during that rough time: his own talent for construction work. He used that on other projects and made money that way. “I am grateful for two blessings that I received:  I learned the building trade, and now I own my own home.

“I pray for the others in this village,” he added, “Some of them decided to leave before they were able to totally pay off their land and own it; that’s not right.”

Jose Luis pointed to Mario Gaitan, the director of Agros Nicaragua, who was at the fringe of the circle, in his customary quiet listening pose. “I am grateful to Mario, who is my good friend,” he said with a grin, “He encouraged me to believe that I could do this, own my own land. What we need now is renewed vision for everyone, to work together so that each family can pay off their land loan.”

Pedro, the third villager to speak, told us that Agros human development staff had helped him to overcome the legacy of a fatherless upbringing. His beginnings story was similar: hard work for no pay or food, poor land that was difficult to irrigate and access. He added “So I rented land to cultivate. I would grow excess, store it until the market prices went up, then sell. I thank my children, especially my son, who has helped me pay off my loan.”

I should explain at this point that Agros has learned many lessons at the hands of these villagers, these partners of ours. Their experience has taught us that it’s worth waiting for the right piece of land, and paying more for it, even though it may take the villagers longer to pay it off, and we may need to spend more years in staff time working with them. We no longer encourage villagers to build permanent homes right away. They have taught us that the best early encouragement is the experience of growing food and earning money off of the land they occupy and will own some day. In 2003, we changed our model from “land and enterprise” to “holistic development.” We had learned that the path out of poverty is made more level by paying attention to all of the elements blocking the way: health and hygiene, education, full participation of all family and village members, permissive vs. directive paths of change: we now measure 20 factors contributing to the process. It’s still a tortuous path– generational poverty presents major obstacles– but the path is less steep and therefore easier to walk.

The three stories were done and the afternoon sun was turning orange, but the word got out, and the village began to gather. We were asked to say a bit about ourselves. We moved to the community center (really no more than a supported roof) and plastic chairs were quickly occupied by over fifty people. We told them who we were, why we were there, and what we hoped to learn from them.

One by one, the villagers encouraged family representatives to come forward and to tell us that they had already paid off their loans and owned their land outright, or else how close they were and how soon they expected to do so. One man got up, looked at us silently, took a deep breath, smiled and said simply: “I’m paid up!” Immediate applause and laughter; his chest was still puffed up as he beat a hasty retreat from the spotlight. A daughter came forward with her mother and spoke for her shy parent. Each statement was greeted by cheers and applause. The longer we stayed, the more we sensed the mutual encouragement in the village, and the infectious nature of the pride of ownership.

All of this, I thought, was despite Agros’ attempts to help. We had led them to unproductive land, and mistakenly thought that their own homes would be good security. A good outcome was now in sight, thanks to corrective action that our staff had taken in the intervening years, but still: The odds were against these villagers at the beginning.

The people of Futuro del Mañana had beat those odds. They had done it as individuals, they had bonded together to do it collectively, and they were determined that everyone in their village would do so.

We did two things right, I thought later. Somehow, we had found people who were determined to overcome: not just to survive, but to thrive. They had the faith to do so. And the Agros Nicaragua staff had not given up on them, or their abilities. The deep bond of affection between villagers and the all of the staff who companion them in their journey is palpable. Mario Gaitan told me later that he was deeply moved when Jose Luis called him “my good friend.” Tears had come to my own eyes at the very same moment. To be the friend of the poor: there is no higher honor for man or woman, regardless of their social or organizational position.

Mario Gaitan has big plans for Nicaragua, and for Agros’ role in helping the poor to ownership and human dignity. During our time with him, we discussed best practices and how Agros might reach more poor people, more effectively.

I think in the end, though, it’s going to come down to this: making more friends.

Stuart Scadron-Wattles