A cry for help: The drought crisis in Northern Ghana, a journey through desperation

I am currently travelling through Northern Ghana, witnessing firsthand the stark realities of a crisis that is gripping the region. The once-lush landscapes I have come to associate with this part of the country are now barren and cracked under the relentless sun. The sense of quiet despera­tion in the communities I visit is palpable, and the people I meet are struggling to hold on to the hope that has sustained them for so long.

One of the most heart-wrench­ing encounters was with Alhassan, an elderly farmer who has spent his entire life tending to his maize and groundnut fields. As we stood under the shade of a large baobab tree, he pointed to his withered crops and said, “I’ve never seen it this bad. The maize should be as tall as me by now, but look…” The plants barely reached his knees. “There’s no food for my family, no harvest to sell. I don’t know how we’ll survive the coming months.”

Alhassan’s despair isn’t isolated. It echoes across the Northern Sa­vanna, where poverty is a constant companion for many. In the Upper West Region, nearly 71 per cent of the population lives in poverty. In the Upper East, about 16 per cent of households struggle to put enough food on the table. These statistics aren’t just numbers—they represent real lives, real families, facing a very uncertain future.

Conversation with Alhaji Mashud: The struggles of a Farmer

As I continue my journey through the north, I had the opportunity to speak with Alhaji Mashud, a respected farmer and beneficiary of the Bank’s Tech­nologies for African Agricultural Transformation-Savannah (TA­AT-S) program. Alhaji Mashud manages Cudjoe Abimash Farms, where he oversees over 2,500 hectares of maize fields. This year, however, the drought has left him with little hope for a harvest.

As we walked through his fields, the frustration in Alhaji’s voice was palpable. “I’ve invested so much in these fields—inputs, labor, time. And now, with no rain, there’s nothing to show for it. How am I supposed to pay for the inputs I’ve already applied?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. His frustra­tion mirrors that of many farmers across the Savannah agro-eco­logical zone of Northern Ghana. The fields that should have been lush and green are instead dry and barren, and the economic toll is devastating.

What makes this situation even more heartbreaking is that, at this same time last year, these very fields were thriving. The soybean plants were vibrant with an impres­sive biomass, their leaves a healthy green that promised a bountiful harvest. The maize plants, tall and strong, had already produced cobs that were nearly ready for harvest­ing. There was an air of excitement as farmers anticipated the fresh maize, perfect for roasting, that would soon grace their tables and markets. But this year, that hope has withered alongside the crops.

Alhaji Mashud’s situation sums up the overwhelming despair that many farmers in the region are feeling. They’ve done everything right—planted on time, used the recommended inputs, followed best practices—yet nature has failed them. The prospect of a zero harvest is not just a financial blow; it’s a threat to their very livelihoods, their ability to support their families, and their hopes for the future.

A climate crisis on our door­step

What struck me most during my time here is how dramatically the climate has changed. Northern Ghana has always been a tough place to farm, but it seems like the rules of the game are changing, and not for the better. The rains that used to come like clockwork are now erratic, leaving fields dry and farmers desperate. In the Upper East Region, annual rainfall has dropped from 1,000 mm in the 1970s to just 800 mm today. This year has been especially cruel, with some areas receiving less than half of their usual rainfall.

During my visit, I spoke with Mrs. Theresa Fynn, the Project Coordinator for the Savannah Investment Programme (SIP). She voiced the frustration that so many farmers are feeling. “We’ve pro­vided climate-smart inputs to help these farmers adapt, but it’s been incredibly difficult because the rains have refused to come,” she told me. “Even with the best seeds and techniques, without water, there’s little hope.”

However, Mrs. Fynn also shared a glimmer of hope—solar-operat­ed boreholes funded by the Global Agriculture and Food Security Program (GAFSP). “These bore­holes could be a game-changer,” she said. “They would guarantee all-year-round production, espe­cially for vulnerable households, including those headed by women, who are often the hardest hit in times of crisis.”

The Government’s response: A race against time

As I travel through these com­munities, I have been made aware of the meeting held between the Honorable Ministers of Finance and Food and Agriculture and vari­ous development partners (DPs) to address the looming food insecu­rity crisis. The urgency of the sit­uation was clear, as both ministers had just returned from visiting the affected regions and witnessing the devastation firsthand.

I also learned that the President of Ghana was in the north a few days ago, visiting fields in the affected areas, a sobering reminder of the gravity of the situation and the attention it is receiving at the highest levels of government.

The drought has already affected nearly a million farmers and destroyed crops on almost two million hectares of farmland. The economic loss is staggering—around 22 billion Ghana Cedis, or USD 1.4 billion. To put it into perspective, that’s 11 per cent of the country’s agricultural GDP wiped out.

The affected regions contrib­ute 62 per cent of Ghana’s grain consumption, so this isn’t just a regional crisis—it’s a national one. The potential fallout includes food shortages, job losses, skyrocket­ing food prices, and even security risks, as unemployed youth in these vulnerable areas could be drawn into conflicts spilling over from neighboring Sahel regions.

The government is seeking USD 500 million to address the crisis, but there’s a USD 140 million gap that needs to be filled by DPs. During the meeting, it was empha­sized that any support provided must be carefully managed to avoid distorting the domestic food market. Local procurement is key to ensuring that prices don’t sky­rocket further and that the support reaches those who need it most.

Turning despair into action

The situation is dire, but it’s not hopeless. There are steps we can take—must take—right now to prevent this crisis from spiraling out of control.

1. Immediate Relief: We need to provide emergency food aid, cash transfers, and water resourc­es to the hardest-hit areas. This could include mobile water tanks, more boreholes, and temporary irrigation systems to salvage what remains of this year’s crops.

2. Long-Term Resilience: We need to help these communities build resilience against future cli­mate shocks. This means investing in drought-resistant crops, better water management systems, and alternative income sources. The solar-operated boreholes Mrs. Fynn mentioned could be a lifeline for many.

3. Policy Support: The gov­ernment must continue to work closely with development partners to implement climate adaptation strategies. The private sector also has a role to play—there are opportunities for investment in climate-resilient projects and agri­cultural insurance schemes that can protect farmers from future losses.

4. Community Empower­ment: We need to empower communities by providing training on climate-resilient practices and strengthening farm­er cooperatives. These communities are on the frontlines of this crisis, and they need the knowl­edge, tools, and support to thrive.

A personal plea: Let’s not look away

As I continue to travel through Northern Ghana, the urgency of the situ­ation weighs heavily on me. This crisis is a test of our collective humanity. It’s a re­minder that the most vulnerable among us are often the first to suffer when disaster strikes. But it’s also a call to action.

We have the power to change the course of this crisis—to turn de­spair into hope, and to ensure that the people of Northern Ghana can build a better, more secure future. But we must act now.

Let’s not wait until the fields are empty, the granaries are bare, and the children are too weak to learn or play. Let’s not wait until it’s too late. We can make a difference, one action at a time, by providing im­mediate relief, building resilience, and empowering those who are most affected.

The story of Northern Ghana doesn’t have to end in despair. Together, we can help write a new chapter—one of strength, resilience, and hope. Let’s seize this moment to ensure that the land, once again, becomes a source of life and prosperity for those who call it home.

The writer is with Lead Partnership and Coordination, Department of Agriculture and Agro-Industry African Develop­ment Bank.

By Philip Boahen