KINGSTON, Jamaica – Lenworth Fulton – While Jamaica spends over US$1 billion annually importing food, the government continues its relentless assault on the nation’s most productive farmland, trading long-term food sovereignty for short-term housing gains.
The Bernard Lodge lands tell a story of agricultural decimation disguised as development progress. What was once a sprawling 30,000-acre agricultural powerhouse—complete with sugarcane fields, banana groves, and processing facilities—has been systematically carved up for housing schemes.
Today, a mere 5,000 acres remain under cultivation, representing just 17 percent of the original estate. Yet even this agricultural remnant faces the developer’s bulldozer.
At the heart of this controversy lies Bajoo Farm, a showcase of agricultural potential that should serve as a model for Jamaica’s food security ambitions.
Its fields of callaloo, banana, plantains, and red peppers wave in the gentle breeze like a green flag of what’s possible when prime agricultural land is properly utilized.
But whispers of “surreptitious” plans to convert this productive pepper farm into housing have surrounding farmers and agricultural advocates alarmed.
The irony is stark: Jamaica’s food import bill reached US$1.038 billion for the first nine months of 2023, while the total value of food and beverage imports to Jamaica in 2022 was $1.4 billion.
These staggering figures represent foreign exchange hemorrhaging from an economy that could be feeding itself. Instead of nurturing the Bajoo Farms that could supply local processors and reduce import dependency, Jamaica’s housing policy treats agriculture with what can only be described as institutional contempt.
The government’s housing-first mentality has already obliterated thousands of acres through developments like Eltham, Angels, Caribbean Estate, Greater Portmore, and the White Water schemes at Inswood.
“ farmers feel like “yokels”—dismissed and displaced by a government that fails to grasp the symbiotic relationship between land and sustenance. ”
These concrete monuments to misplaced priorities have useful lifespans of perhaps fifty years, during which they will prevent millions of tonnes of agricultural production—a devastating trade-off for any nation grappling with food security.
Agriculture contributes 8 percent to GDP and provides employment for rural communities that form the backbone of Jamaica’s food chain. Yet farmers feel like “yokels”—dismissed and displaced by a government that fails to grasp the symbiotic relationship between land and sustenance.
While shelter ranks among basic human needs, food security traditionally takes precedence, and Jamaica’s Class One irrigated lands should be protected under law by the National Environmental Planning Agency or the Jamaica Agricultural Society Act.
The Bajoo Farm’s vertical integration with a local sauce processor—actively seeking red peppers while growing for their own factory—exemplifies the government’s stated policy of “growing and processing for local consumption and export.”
Yet these promising agro-industrial partnerships remain vulnerable to the insidious advance of housing developers and the solipsistic National Housing Trust, which places agriculture in an increasingly precarious position.
Jamaica’s agricultural export performance tells the tale of a sector in decline: just US$13 million for the last quarter—the lowest in years—while agricultural production has fallen to five-year lows. The country’s money stock has declined by $17 billion, yet prime agricultural land continues to disappear under concrete.
The solution to Jamaica’s agricultural labor shortage may lie closer than expected. While farmers struggle to find workers, Haiti—just next door—faces its own economic crisis with a surplus of agricultural laborers.
The International Organization for Migration has successfully facilitated programs bringing Haitian agricultural workers to the United States under the H-2A visa category, and one worker-month of seasonal agricultural work by a male Haitian in the USA raises his current wage by approximately 1400%, adds roughly US$3000 to the economy of Haiti.
A structured bilateral agricultural worker program between Jamaica and Haiti could address both countries’ challenges. Jamaica’s approximately 14,000 workers in foreign employment programs have gained valuable experience with modern farming technology.
“ A structured bilateral agricultural worker program between Jamaica and Haiti could address both countries’ challenges ”
A local farm work programme, modeled on the foreign worker system, could leverage returned workers as “grade one” employees while incorporating Haitian agricultural expertise. Government subsidies for these experienced workers would boost agricultural development, accelerate modernization, and stabilize the labor force while providing humanitarian assistance to Haiti.
Such innovative thinking requires what Jamaica’s agricultural policy currently lacks: vision beyond the quick fix. The Ministry of Labour could implement this local farmwork programme immediately, creating long-term careers with proper employment benefits including pension, health insurance, and recreational leave for women and youth in rural areas.
Time is running short for Jamaica’s agricultural lands. Every acre of prime farmland lost to housing represents decades of food production sacrifice and foreign exchange bleeding. Class One agricultural lands like Bajoo Farm must be preserved for current and future food sovereignty, foreign exchange earnings, and rural employment.
The choice facing Jamaica is stark: nurture the green shoots of agricultural potential or continue the concrete funeral march over the nation’s most productive soils. The Bajoo Farm controversy represents more than a local land use dispute—it’s a referendum on Jamaica’s commitment to feeding itself in an increasingly uncertain world. WiredJA
