What can we learn, unlearn, and grow from Kaani, Kenya’s dryland landscape restoration journey?
This year in Kaani has felt like a slow conversation between the land and the people who depend on it. Nothing about dryland restoration is fast. The soil takes its time. The seasons take their time. Communities take their time to trust the process. And I have learned to move with this rhythm rather than fight it.
Working with young women farmers again this season reminded me that restoration is not only a technical journey. It is emotional, social and sometimes reflective work. The women shared their frustrations with changing rainfall patterns and declining soil fertility. They also spoke openly about the challenges of farming on land owned and controlled by male relatives, which limits their decision-making power. In many ways, these stories became the real curriculum of the year.
On the technical side, we deepened our practices in agroecology. We improved our methods of preparing organic fertilizers from goat manure. We built stronger kitchen gardens that retain moisture and tolerate the heat. We learned to observe soil structure and identify compacted or low-organic-matter areas. We continued to integrate fruit and shade trees in homesteads as part of our agroforestry approach. These small steps have helped farms in Kaani hold water better and remain productive during long dry spells.




Examples of our agroecology work in practice: close monitoring of pests in vegetables, homemade fruit-fly traps in mango orchards, diversified vegetable beds supported by organic fertilizers, and kitchen-garden towers that save water and maximize small spaces. Photo credit: Kijani Mtaani
The learning went both ways. Some of the women taught me practical solutions that do not appear in technical manuals. They showed me how they use greywater creatively. They demonstrated old seed storage practices that keep local varieties safe and dry. These skills reminded me that restoration is strongest when local knowledge sits alongside scientific methods.
This year was not without challenges. The greatest difficulty was the unpredictable climate. The rains arrived late and ended early. Some seedlings dried out before we could transplant them. Water scarcity slowed down our activities and pushed us to think more carefully about how we design our gardens. Transporting workshop materials was also a challenge for many households. These moments forced us to rethink how we plan community sessions and how we can create solutions that are realistic for the women we work with.
Mentorship played a significant role in shaping how I navigated all of this. I was surrounded by mentors who challenged me to think deeper about the role of justice in restoration. They guided me through moments of overwhelm and helped me see the importance of grounding my work in community relationships rather than in output-based expectations. Their support made the difficult days manageable and helped me grow not only as a practitioner but also as a leader.
Beyond the fieldwork, I had the opportunity to speak about our experiences in Kaani on larger platforms. At the African Youth Summit on Biodiversity (AYSB) in Kigali, Rwanda, I shared our work on community-driven solutions that support both biodiversity and women’s agency. Many young practitioners resonated with the idea that restoration must begin with people before it reaches the land. At the 6th World Congress on Agroforestry, happening in parallel with the AYSB, I reflected on the role of youth and women in shaping restoration futures. I also highlighted how agroecology offers practical, culturally relevant solutions for small-scale farmers in drylands. These platforms gave me the space to bring Kaani into global conversations and reminded me that our local work is part of a much larger movement.

Toward the end of the year, members of the Global Landscapes Forum visited Kaani to engage directly with the community and observe the progress of our work on the ground. The visit created space for open conversations with the women farmers about their experiences, challenges, and the practical outcomes of the project. On the final day, we held a small community ceremony to bring everyone together and celebrate local traditional foods and vegetables grown in the kitchen gardens established during the training. Sharing these meals with Kijani Mtaani community members offered a meaningful way to reflect on how restoration can strengthen food systems, cultural practices, and collective pride.


Moments from the Global Landscapes Forum visit to Kaani, where community members, women farmers, and GLF representatives came together to reflect on the project’s outcomes and share traditional foods Photo Credit: Global Landscapes Forum.
As I look ahead, my hope for dryland ecosystems is simple. I want communities like Kaani to be seen as experts of their own landscapes. I want young women to sit at decision-making tables and shape policies that directly affect their soils and seeds. I want the restoration community to continue shifting from project-based thinking to relationship-based thinking. And above all, I want the land to heal at its own pace with people who understand it and love it.
This year showed me that restoration is not a linear journey. Some attempts succeeded, others demanded rethinking and patience. What keeps the work moving is the commitment of the women who show up, learn and apply what they can with the resources available to them. Their persistence gives me confidence that our dryland landscape can slowly regain its strength with the right support and continued collective effort.