Focus on Arts and Ecology

Displaced by coastal erosion, people began moving to Bagapatia in the 2010s, but continue to decry the village’s inadequate and dangerous conditions. 

By Dimple Behal, February 20, 2026

A young girl has died. She gave birth, and the same day, she was dead,” laments Saraswati Mohanty.

The funeral procession snaked its way through the village streets, carrying the body of Kashmira (not her real name). She was 18 and pregnant. There was an emergency, and the closest hospital that could tend to her was two hours away. She died en route.

Bagapatia was meant to be a place of refuge. Instead, in this corner of Odisha, near India’s eastern coast, life tiptoes among the wreckage of loss.

In 2023, the local government described it as India’s first “rehabilitation colony” for people displaced by climate change. It became home to families uprooted from Satabhaya, a cluster of seven coastal villages that have largely been rendered uninhabitable under the pressure of erosion and storms. By 2018, 571 Satabhaya families had been relocated here; by April 2024, officials said 17,049 displaced people had been resettled.

Government funds were set aside for infrastructure – roads, sewer systems and basic services. The move was framed as an example of the state anticipating climate displacement, rather than reacting to disaster. For families who consented to leave what had always been their home, it marked a moment of hope.

But resettlement has not meant rehabilitation.

Bagapatia falls woefully short of necessities for a settlement of its size. It has a single community health centre, which offers medication, vaccinations and other basic primary care, but not enough to tend to urgent cases like Kashmira’s. There is no piped water supply and no drainage system. The people of Satabhaya once relied on farming and fishing, but the swampy soil in Bagapatia is unsuitable for agriculture.

That means work is scarce. Kashmira’s husband had to move to Kerala, in south-west India, to find employment in the plywood industry. It is a journey many displaced from Satabhaya are making as their options narrow. Bagapatia sits close to a river that floods during the high tides and crocodile sightings are frequent; even the act of fetching water is laced with danger. The flooding means schools are routinely shut, disrupting education.

Niranjan Swain, a member of the Panchayat Samiti (the village government), says: “The sea took our land. Now the floods take our peace.”

Mass exodus

In coastal Satabhaya, people could rely on fresh fish for sustenance, and to earn a living. Bagapatia, on the other hand, lies around 12 kilometres inland. “We were given houses, not livelihoods,” says Swain.

Before the move, families in Satabhaya had kitchen gardens and paddy fields. In Bagapatia, villagers tell Dialogue Earth the land is low-lying and unfavourable for any cultivation. What was grown must now be bought. “We are always dependent on money,” Swain says.

This dependence on food markets, the corresponding need for an income and the lack of local employment have created a vicious circle. A report by Climate Action Network South Asia noted that by 2021, around 2,000 residents had migrated in search of work, sending remittances home. In the words of Ranjan Panda, an Odisha-based climate and water activist, “it’s ecological poverty that fuels their economic poverty”.

Saraswati Mohanty’s two daughters, aged 18 and 21, are among those planning to leave for Kerala. When they arrive there, over 2,000 kilometres from home, they will likely find work in garment factories overwhelmingly staffed by young women. They will get paid as little as INR 10,000 (USD 110) a month.

“Earlier, only a few people used to go,” Swain says. “Now, half the village leaves every year.”

A village born out of the sea

According to the National Centre for Coastal Research, 36% of the 136-kilometre coastline of Kendrapara district – the administrative unit that encompasses both Satabhaya and Bagapatia – experienced some form of erosion between 1990 and 2018.

Satabhaya, the victim of many cyclones, has been eroding since at least the 1970s. With each storm, its shoreline recedes further. “During every cyclone, around 50 to 100 feet (15 to 30 metres) of the coastline would vanish,” says Swain, who has lived in the village for five decades. The sea began threatening their homes. “All we could do was pray to our goddess and hope to survive.”

The scale of that loss is stark. The village’s area shrank from 350 square kilometres in 1930 to 140 square kilometres by 2015, according to the journal Economic and Political Weekly.

With the threat growing, the decision to move came long before it happened. The Odisha government identified Bagapatia as Satabhaya’s resettlement site in 2008, though plans to relocate had reportedly been discussed as early as 1992. Resettlement finally began in the late 2010s, by which time much of Satabhaya had already been claimed by the sea.

Bagapatia lies just a few kilometres away from Bhitarkanika National Park, designated a wetland of national importance and part of India’s second-largest mangrove forest after the Sundarbans. It is richly biodiverse but poorly suited to dense human settlement.

During cyclones, the area is often inundated by water. Animals from the national park move into the village, including predators such as saltwater crocodiles, and snakes like the Indian python and king cobra. “It’s difficult to travel, and sometimes crocodiles threaten both people and livestock,” says Mohanty. When Cyclone Dana hit Bagapatia in late 2024, she recalls, floodwaters entered homes and fields, and the village’s roads were cut off for days. “This was never prepared as a human settlement,” she says. “It was just land, and we were told to make our homes on it.”

In 2017, the government provided households with plots of land and INR 150,000 (USD 1,660) to build new homes, according to an officer of the Satabhaya Rehabilitation Project speaking to the media that year. But as the site was low-lying, residents had to level the land by as much as nine metres, adding soil before construction to prevent flooding. “We carried soil from nearby areas to lay the foundation ourselves. The trenches we dug would fill with water when it rained or when the groundwater levels were high,” Mohanty recalls.

Today, housing conditions have improved for a small number of families, “but the settlement as a whole falls short of providing secure and equitable housing”, says Swain. Some households, often supported by remittances from relatives working outside the village, have gradually built cement homes over several years. Others continue to live in mud and thatch structures, similar to those they left behind in Satabhaya.

The same inequalities extend to basic services. A few households can afford water storage tanks; others remain dependent on handpumps.

Dialogue Earth contacted both Kendrapara’s district magistrate and its Housing and Urban Development Department for comment but did not receive a response.

The rainy season brings another set of problems. “Skin diseases and diarrhoea are very common, mainly because of the waterlogging,” says Swati Sucharita Rout, the community health officer at Bagapatia’s community health centre. Apart from her, the facility has one pharmacist on duty, she says, while a doctor travels from Rajnagar once a week to see patients and prescribe medicines.

Children are often the hardest hit. And when the storms come, their school – the only one in the village – doubles as a cyclone relief centre. It often fails at that purpose, too, being scarcely able to accommodate all 571 families. Most leave their children at the centre, and risk shelter somewhere else.

Relocation without rehabilitation

Bagapatia was a settlement meant to help villagers rebuild their lives and adapt to a changing climate. Instead, the village has exposed the gaps in the state’s response to climate-related displacement: it reflects relocation without the conditions that make life liveable.

In 2022, India’s parliament introduced two bills to address climate-related displacement: the Climate Migrants (Protection and Rehabilitation) Bill, and the Rehabilitation and Relocation of Persons Displaced due to Climate Change Bill.

The climate migrants bill, introduced by member of parliament Pradyut Bordoloi, seeks to “establish an appropriate policy framework for the protection and rehabilitation of internally displaced climate migrants”. It proposes periodic risk assessments in climate migration hotspots, alongside measures to support adaptive agriculture, land and water use, and the diversification of livelihoods.

The rehabilitation and relocation bill proposes the creation of a committee with dedicated state officers to oversee resettlement, the distribution of funds, and the issuance of identity cards, ensuring displaced people can access government benefits. It also envisages the construction of essential facilities, including hospitals, schools and drinking water wells.

Both bills have failed to pass.

Ranjan Panda believes this reflects a deeper failure to grasp what displacement actually means. “We still lack a comprehensive rehabilitation policy that can make the process of relocation and rehabilitation just and inclusive,” he says.

The same fear that stalked Satabhaya now stalks Bagapatia. Swain urges the government to invest in erosion mitigation measures, such as planting mangrove forests: “If the government plants mangroves along the coast, the erosion can slow down. Without the forests, nothing will protect us.”

He fears the same erosion that consumed Satabhaya will eventually reach Bagapatia.

How long before that happens?

“Maybe in 20 or 30 years.”

Dimple Behal

Women in Mandla, Madhya Pradesh are becoming leaders of their homestead farms, write three experts from IWMI. 

By Tanmoy Bhaduri, Gulshan Borah, Sudharsan Malaiappan, February 26, 2026

Rows of brinjals, chillies, cowpeas, tomatoes and leafy greens shimmer in the morning sun in Kusum Devi’s lush backyard garden.

She lives in the small village of Chimkatola, perched in the hilly terrain of Mandla district, Madhya Pradesh, central India.

Kusum sprinkles a concoction made of cow dung, neem leaves and fermented jaggery (an unrefined cane sugar) over the rows of vegetables. She applies this natural pest repellent as well as bio-fertilisers on the crops every 15 days. “Earlier, we bought [these] from the market, but now, we make it all at home,” she tells Dialogue Earth.

Not long ago, this 10-decimal (400-square-metre) plot yielded little more than maize due to the region’s water stress, and offered meagre returns. Now, 35-year-old Kusum earns up to INR 1,200 (USD 14) per month selling her produce in the weekly market in Mandla town, after keeping some for her family’s consumption.

Kusum has also introduced 10 chickens into her garden. Their eggs provide additional income and nutrition for her family.

Along with those from several neighbouring villages, Kusum is part of a growing network of women farmers transforming Mandla’s uplands through the agroecological homestead model.

This model seeks to address key challenges – including malnutrition, irregular income and resource degradation – faced by Mandla’s tribal communities, such as in Chimkatola and neighbouring Kevlari. These villages are inhabited by the Gond and Baiga communities, recognised as Scheduled Tribes in Madhya Pradesh.

As Kusum’s backyard plot demonstrates, a key part of the model involves cultivating different kinds of vegetables at different heights, maximising use of space. This is alongside crop rotation, bio-composting, rainwater harvesting and livestock integration. The latter involves using organic manure for crop farming and crop residue or surplus for animal feed.

With this model, women farmers have been taking charge of production and decision-making on their families’ homestead farms, challenging traditional norms.

From monocropping to multilayer farms

The agroecological homestead model is an initiative of the CGIAR Multifunctional Landscapes Program and a grassroots organisation, the Professional Assistance for Development Action. Pradan, as it is known, works with the region’s adivasis, or Indigenous inhabitants.

Before the project began, most farmers in Chimkatola and Kevlari practised monocropping – of mainly maize in upland areas and rice in low-lying fields near rivers, notes Gopal Kumar.

Kumar is a researcher at the International Water Management Institute (IWMI), which is monitoring the project along with Pradan.

These crops were vulnerable to erratic rainfall, land degradation due to improper farming on steep slopes, and fluctuating market prices due to unstable fuel prices and other factors. Backyard plots were largely left fallow, with maize occasionally cultivated.

Gopal explains that to diversify income and ensure nutrition, in 2024 the institute introduced the agroecological homestead model to four villages in the Narayanganj block (rural administrative subdivision) of Mandla district. Women from Chimkatola and Kevlari visited these pilots, were encouraged by their success, and adopted the model, he notes.

Via the model, some farmers in Chimkatola and Kevlari have also adopted drip irrigation and portable water tanks (known as Jal Kunds) that can store up to 12,000 litres of rainwater. These small interventions have enabled year-round farming. “Earlier, we had to depend [solely] on rain,” says Yashoda Devi, a farmer in Kevlari. “Now, with the Jal Kund and drip irrigation, we can plan our crops and earn throughout the year.”

Each woman farmer participating in the agricultural homestead project cultivates around 400-500 square meters of land, using bio-fertilisers like jeevamrut and panchagavya, both made from cow dung and urine mixed with other organic matter.

According to IWMI’s findings, production diversity has increased by 350%, dietary diversity has doubled, and consumption of nutrient-rich foods such as leafy greens has gone up by 70%. Protein intake and household savings have also improved through backyard poultry, and families’ dependence on external markets for produce and fertiliser has fallen.

“Initially, farmers were hesitant to adopt natural inputs,” says Gopal. During the first attempt, heavy rainfall washed away everything, including bio-fertilisers, bio-pests, and seedlings. “But once they saw better yields and healthier crops, confidence grew. Today, more women are preparing and applying bio-formulations on their own.”

With men migrating, women lead

In the villages of Mandla’s Narayanganj block, men often migrate seasonally to nearby towns for work, leaving women to manage farms and households. Traditionally, their roles are confined to supportive labour such as sowing, weeding or harvesting. Under homestead model, however, they have taken charge of production and decision-making.

“Before, women waited for men to decide what to grow,” says Saurav Kumar, team coordinator for Pradan. “Now, they decide when to sow, what to sell, and how to reinvest [the proceeds]. The [model] has built confidence as much as capacity.”

He notes that the model has been co-created with women’s self-help groups, and that this participatory design aims to make the transition to leadership roles in farming as smooth as possible for the women.

Farmers told Dialogue Earth that income from their homestead farms supplements the remittances sent by their husbands, who usually work in construction or transport. “When my husband is away [working] in Jabalpur [a city in Madhya Pradesh], I manage everything here,” says Pushpa Devi as she harvests brinjal from her farm. “With [just] off-season prices, we earn enough to support children’s tuition fees and pay small household expenses.”

Yashoda Devi regularly supplies vegetables to a hostel in the nearby town of Bichhiya. “Last month alone, I harvested 33 kilograms of brinjal and earned about INR 1,200 [USD 14] profit from selling vegetables. It may seem small, but for us, it makes a big difference.”

In Chimkatola and Kevlari, two women-led associations of water users have been set up for farmers involved in the homestead model. This has been done through a connected scheme to bring solar-powered irrigation pumps to 13 women farmers, supported by the CGIAR program and the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation. The associations manage the shared pumps and generate income by providing irrigation. Excess power from the pumps is used to turn a rice mill, allowing farmers to process paddy locally.

The scheme sits under IWMI’s Solar Energy for Agricultural Resilience (SoLAR) project, with the pumps and the mill funded by IWMI, through government loans and farmers’ capital.

Each association maintains a bank account to manage revenue, with profits used to repay loans. Members have been trained in governance, financial record-keeping and maintaining solar infrastructure. “For the first time, women here are running a water system and handling finances,” Kusum Devi said.

Overcoming challenges and cultivating hope

Despite the visible progress, implementing agroecological practices in resource-constrained tribal regions has not been without hurdles. Limited capital, pest attacks, erratic weather and knowledge gaps continue to challenge homesteaders.

“The first few months were difficult,” admits Balwanti Devi from Kevlari. “Some crops were damaged by heavy rain, and we didn’t have money to buy organic inputs again.”

The project team has been exploring how participants can be supported by existing government programmes, Kumar of IWMI says. One way has been to encourage water-user associations to apply for subsidised loans for a new wheat mill and renewable-energy equipment through Madhya Pradesh’s state rural livelihood mission, which they are eligible for as self-help groups.

Self-help groups are being encouraged to access subsidised loans for initial investment, and labour costs are covered through public works – creation of waterbodies and irrigation canals – under the Rural Employment Guaranteed Scheme.

To ensure their farming is sustainable, women are provided training by Pradan staff in bio-composting, water management and crop scheduling. Farmers are learning to adjust sowing times and improve canopy management – to optimise light and air circulation in crops – and boost productivity using climate-resilient seed varieties, notes Saurav Kumar.

Looking to the future, the project team plans to establish wholesale centres where farmers’ produce can be transported to larger markets, he adds, to help farmers get more stable prices for their produce.

With the homestead project, women who once saw farming as mere subsistence now view it as enterprise. The transformation is visible not only in the fields of Chimkatola and Kevlari, but also in the confidence of the women who till them. “Earlier, we were invisible in farming,” says Kusum Devi, standing next to her farm. “Now, we are the decision-makers.”

Tanmoy Bhaduri

Tanmoy Bhaduri is a development journalist focusing on underreported issues in South Asia. Currently with the International Water Management Institute (IWMI) as science communicator, he weaves innovative narratives on water management and sustainable development.

As subsidies for renewables are phased out, market distortions mean renewables still can’t stand on their own feet, writes Zhang Shuwei. 

By Zhang Shuwei, February 25, 2026

Since implementing its renewable energy law in 2005, China has been rapidly rolling out wind and solar power – from 10 gigawatts (GW) per year early on to over 430 GW last year. The country now has about 1,840 GW of installed capacity, forming more of the power capacity mix (47.3%) than that derived from fossil fuels.

China’s new climate action plan, submitted to the UN last year, includes a target to almost double capacity to 3,600 GW by 2035. That would go far beyond what any other country has or aims to have. To achieve it, China must continue building and connecting renewables to the grid at pace.

Many think that the rapidly falling cost of installing renewables and improving technology means the sector can already compete on the open market. But as the share of renewables in China’s electricity mix keeps rising, generators are having a tougher time. They are dealing with fluctuating earnings, difficulty getting hooked up to the grid and low average prices for their output.

Amid these challenges, can renewables win sufficient revenue and investment to drive expansion and add the 200 GW or more of capacity required every year to achieve China’s target? Let’s take a look.

The new pricing system for supporting renewables

Reaching 3,600 GW very much depends on a document produced last year by China’s economic planning body, the National Development and Reform Commission.

Document 136 provides the top-level policy design for China’s energy transition. It includes so-called market mechanisms to promote the consumption of renewable power and consistent investment, laying the foundation for a new electricity system.

The document requires provincial governments to set up price-guarantee mechanisms for new wind and solar projects. These are similar to the contract-for-difference (CfD) systems used overseas. CfD systems mitigate the wide price fluctuations in electricity spot markets that give generators unstable incomes and scare off investors.

Under such a system, renewable generators bid against each other to supply electricity to the grid at a fixed “strike price”. When market prices fall below that price, which is set annually, the government pays the generator the difference. When market prices exceed it, the generator pays back the surplus.

These CfD mechanisms had been put in place by the end of last year. They spelled the end of feed-in tariffs, feed-in premiums, or benchmarking against coal power prices, and the start of a centrally led but locally determined system for price setting.

But the new rules have not straightforwardly stabilised generators’ income or given investors certainty on returns.

In Europe and the US, CfDs usually cover all electricity generated by a project. In China, to keep more control over profitability, most provinces are underwriting only some of the generation – between 40% and 80%. The remainder of a project’s income is subject to market fluctuations.

In one sense, the CfD mechanism resembles the “capacity payments” that some coal-power generators receive for standing idle, ready to produce power if needed to meet peak demand. That is, both are annual risk-free payments proportionally linked to a power plant’s rated capacity. 

China’s whole power system is shifting to capacity payments

Renewables aren’t the only form of generation being underwritten. China has rolled out capacity payments for several types of generation.

A system for pumped hydropower – a form of energy storage – was put in place in 2021, with payments in the region of CNY 500 (USD 72) per kilowatt per year made to 48 pumped hydro stations.

For “new-type” storage, which largely means battery storage, some provinces are paying between CNY 100-250 per kilowatt per year, with a national system for capacity payments implemented in early 2026.

For coal power, a 2023 document set fees at CNY 330 per kilowatt per year.

For gas, decisions on capacity payments have always been devolved to provincial governments, with provinces such as Guangdong and Jiangsu setting clear capacity-payment or subsidy standards.

China’s electricity system is clearly shifting from paying for electricity generated to paying for the capacity to generate it.

The CfD mechanism involves new wind and solar in this broader capacity-based subsidy system. In effect, the government is providing renewables facilities with a stable annual income, rather than them relying purely on market price signals.

Will income levels enable long-term expansion?

There are major differences in the amount of income support renewable generators receive across China’s regions. Judging from the strike prices and kilowatt-hours of power covered, wind power can cover its capital costs in most provinces. But returns on solar power in western provinces have reached the edge of, or even fallen below, the threshold of profitable investment – mainly due to lower than expected prices.

The support itself is also not consistent over time. Strike prices and covered quantities are set annually. While spot market prices change on a shorter timescale. Central government policy usually works on a five-year cycle. While provincial implementation of that policy adjusts annually. And electricity trading and settlement – meaning billing and payment – works to a monthly schedule.

In practice, monthly settlement means annual CfD-covered quantities must be artificially divided across the 12 months and settled at the monthly price. The actual subsidies projects receive are impacted by the changing monthly average of spot market prices, with generators giving up or receiving income depending on that average.

Subsidies are paid for by commercial electricity users as part of a “system operational fee”. Local governments, however, have concerns about the magnitude of the subsidies, and so the balance of the subsidy account influences how covered quantities are set in future.

Wind and solar projects require huge up-front investment, and their profitability and success relies on long-term stable cashflow. If electricity prices, covered proportions or settlement rules change frequently, investment risk quickly increases. That means higher financing costs and so less investment.

In theory, electricity spot prices should reflect the balance of supply and demand, but also send a signal to long-term investors. Under China’s current system, these prices are used more to recover costs and implement policy. Dispatch discretion, price ceilings and floors, and off-market interventions (including directed dispatch and off-market arrangements) make market prices lower than needed for long-term returns on investment.

As a result, renewable generators may still not be able to stand on their own two feet. They need to be supported by the new pricing mechanism as subsidies are phased out. Wind and solar power prices are still largely set in line with their costs, rather than the market price.

The issues of low prices and wasted generation

The part of a project’s generation not covered by the CfD mechanism can still be sold, via the spot market or through longer-term contracts. But that is limited as electricity markets are currently somewhat fragmented and distorted, plus there is not enough liquidity across markets in various time segments. Prices on short-term markets often drop the closer they get to real-time trades.

In Shandong, Zhejiang and Sichuan, the average electricity spot market price is significantly lower than the coal-power reference price, and close to zero when solar power generation is peaking. This price structure doesn’t reflect the actual “marginal costs” in the system but does significantly increase uncertainty for renewable generators. (Here marginal costs means the cost of the final unit of electricity needed to meet demand, which usually comes from a coal power plant when demand is high.)

That exposes uncovered generation to low and unstable prices, putting overall return on investment at risk.

As more renewables come online, wasted generation, or “curtailment”, is becoming a bigger problem, rising particularly in north-western China. According to reports, curtailment rates in Gansu are over 30% for solar and even higher for wind. The CfDs of Document 136 are closer to a “price guarantee, with conditions”: the guarantee only comes into play if a project is hooked up to the grid and actually generating power. It can’t provide discipline for electricity curtailments.

Rule restrictions behind the boom

Even with wind and solar generation costs having fallen significantly, China’s renewables remain highly reliant on predictable cost-recovery mechanisms.

In Europe and the US, market pricing is used to complete short-term clearing and is key to balancing real-time supply and demand. China’s electricity system, by contrast, has long regarded prices as a cost-recovery tool. This significantly weakens competition, and means the scale and structure of investments are made within a very policy-driven framework.

Achieving the 3,600 GW target on time will ultimately depend on whether local governments are willing and able to set CfD proportions at levels that ensure new projects can recover their costs.

Zhang Shuwei

China-backed projects are helping smallholders with their yields as the climate changes, but the partnerships are also raising harder questions. 

By Duncan Mboyah, February 17, 2026

Many Kenyan farmers work fertile land close to fast-growing urban markets. But they are struggling as rainfall gets less predictable, heat stress rises and pests and diseases spread.

For smallholders, a single outbreak can wipe out years of savings. While for policymakers, each failed harvest carries reputational consequences.

Into this uncertainty has stepped a growing number of external partners offering technical fixes, with China now among the most visible. Across Kenya, Chinese companies, universities and development partners are backing projects that promise climate-resilient crops, reduced losses and steadier incomes.

Some farmers say the resulting improvements are tangible. The wider implications, however, are more complex. Bringing in new technology can strengthen local capacity but also entrench reliance. And for countries trying to build their own agri-tech ecosystems, important questions shadow the success stories: is progress sustainable and will the benefits be fairly shared?

A greenhouse bet in the Rift Valley

Benard Koech’s greenhouses sit on a small plot in Keberesit village, south-western Kenya. Inside, rows of tomato plants climb neatly toward the light. The setup looks relatively modern with plastic sheeting, drip irrigation lines, careful spacing. But the core innovation is less visible: each plant is built from two Chinese varieties joined by hand.

Koech, 28, tells Dialogue Earth he began growing tomatoes outdoors in 2020 as a pastime, after graduating in agribusiness management from Kenya’s Machakos University. About 95% of Kenya’s tomatoes are grown in open fields.

He has benefitted from a pilot programme to support rural youth to grow grafted tomatoes around Nakuru county, about 160 km north-west of Nairobi. The programme, a collaboration between China’s Nanjing Agricultural University and Kenya’s Egerton University, is about improving responses to disease and climate stress.

Stories like Koech’s are often presented as evidence that “South-South” cooperation between Global South nations can deliver practical solutions where traditional aid models have struggled. In Kenya’s case, the claim is that farmers are not only receiving inputs, but also learning techniques to manage climate shocks more effectively.

In this instance the technique involves joining the shoot, or scion, of a high-yielding but disease-prone tomato variety with the rootstock of a more resilient one. The aim is to keep producing desirable fruit while strengthening resistance to pathogens and water stress.

Joshua Ogweno, an associate professor of horticulture at Egerton University, says the tomato-grafting project emerged after bacterial wilt devastated tomato production in parts of the Rift Valley.

The wilt “spread like bush fire in the region as a result of climate change”, he says, adding that the grafted tomatoes have reduced crop losses by 80%.

The grafting is done at Egerton University and seedlings are then sold in agricultural supply shops. The plants can be harvested continuously for up to eight months, Ogweno says, compared to a roughly two-month harvesting window for ordinary plants grown in open fields.

Ogweno points to broader capacity-building outcomes. Since 2018, more than 1,100 “agricultural extension officers” – who teach farmers modern techniques – have received training on managing bacterial wilt and related threats, he says.

If these gains hold at scale, the implications are significant: fewer crop failures, less pesticide use and more predictable incomes. But success at pilot level does not automatically translate into long-term resilience. Greenhouses depend on imported plastic, fittings, irrigation systems and technical know-how, all of which carry costs, potential environmental risks, and risks if supply chains falter or funding ends.

Hybrid fodder grass and seedlings gain traction

Chinese involvement in Kenya’s agri-tech space is not confined to public-research partnerships. Private companies are also expanding their footprint.

Juncao grass is a hybrid fodder crop introduced in 2021 by Chinese entrepreneur Jack Liu. Grown in Kenya, it is resilient to drought and grows faster than normal Napier grass. Mwangi Kinyanjui, a lecturer in natural resource management at Kenya’s Karatina University, says the grass “has double protein”. He calls it “a saviour for livestock farmers who are witnessing low production of milk”.

However, juncao is grown on some of the most fertile arable land in Kenya, in Nakuru county, putting it in potential competition with staple food production.

Juncao has not solved Kenya’s persistent livestock feed shortages, since the majority of livestock farmers today import feeds from neighbouring Uganda.

“Technology transfer in agriculture can offset many problems that are affecting farmers, but the knowledge of the technology is still low,” Kinyanjui adds.

For farmers facing climate stress, speed matters. New varieties that establish quickly can mean the difference between survival and collapse. But rapid uptake also raises ecological questions about introducing new crops at scale, and whether local plants and seed systems are being strengthened or sidelined.

Boson Agri Ltd, which operates farms in Kenya, Zambia and Tanzania, supplies hybrid seedlings across the region. Leon Qu, the company’s chief executive, says: “We produce virus-free seedlings that reduce diseases and make seedlings and crops stable during dry seasons.”

For farmers, hybrid seedlings can sharply reduce risk. For policymakers, they raise familiar development questions: who controls seed systems, who captures value along the chain, and can domestic breeding and manufacturing capacity keep pace?

John Macharia, Kenya country director for the Alliance for a Green Revolution in Africa (AGRA), says partnerships that expand access to technology are urgently needed.

“Kenya has limited and unaffordable technology while climate change continues to affect farm production in the country,” he tells Dialogue Earth.

That reality explains the appeal of Chinese collaboration. But reliance on external solutions can deepen vulnerabilities if local institutions are not strengthened alongside them.

The trade imbalance behind the rhetoric

Kenya-China agricultural cooperation is unfolding against a starkly uneven trade relationship. In the first half of 2025, Kenya imported goods worth about KES 500 billion (USD 3.9 billion) from China, while exporting just KES 4.5 billion (USD 34.9 million), according to Guo Haiya, China’s ambassador to Kenya.

Guo argues however that, thanks to recent policy changes, African agricultural products are gaining better access to Chinese markets.

China has stated it will expand its tariff-free trade arrangements so all products from all 53 African countries it has diplomatic relations with can enter China without tariffs. This would make African products more competitive on the Chinese market.

“With the new zero-tariff arrangements, products such as Kenyan avocados, Zimbabwean blueberries, Ethiopian coffee, Ghanaian cocoa, and Tanzanian cashew nuts will enjoy easier and more competitive access to the Chinese market,” she told Dialogue Earth during the Africa International Agricultural Expo held in Nairobi in October 2025.

But market access alone does not guarantee exports. Cold storage, logistics, quality standards, financing and reliable production remain major barriers. These constraints have long limited African agricultural trade.

African countries can learn from China’s experience but only by adapting it, says Bob Wekesa, director of the African Center for the Study of the United States, at the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg.

“China has done well in transforming production of tea and bamboo through the use of agricultural technology, something that African farmers can also borrow to benefit fully in balancing its trade with the Chinese,” he says.

He adds that persistent policy and implementation failures have constrained Africa’s agricultural potential. Progress requires planning across the entire value chain, from land preparation to storage and market access, he says.

No silver bullets

For Gordon K’achola, founder of the Africa Center for Diplomatic Affairs, the risk lies in overselling technology as a cure-all. Chinese partnerships, he says, are often framed as solutions to food insecurity while ignoring deeper structural issues in host countries.

He argues that China, like any external partner, benefits primarily through trade, while outcomes for smallholders depend on how African governments integrate new technologies into local value chains.

Without supportive credit systems, extension services and accountability mechanisms, he adds, technology transfer alone will not correct trade imbalances or transform rural livelihoods.

China, K’achola notes, provides financing, equipment and training as part of its broader cooperation agenda. Whether those inputs translate into durable benefits ultimately depends on domestic governance.

Duncan Mboyah