Dear Editor,
Guyanese farmers know the rhythm of the land too well: rice paddies that turn to dust under relentless sun, cash crops wilting before harvest, and livestock gasping in stifling barns. The UN’s stark warning on extreme heat devastating global agriculture is not some foreign headline—it mirrors what’s unfolding right here, from Berbice to the Rupununi. Soybean fields in Brazil have already lost 20 percent of yields to recent droughts and heat; our own food crops like ground provisions, vegetables, and fruits face the same fate as temperatures climb. Livestock, too, suffer silently—reduced milk from cows, weaker poultry flocks, and higher mortality as water sources dwindle.
This is the reality check: climate change has turned routine weather into a weapon against the very people who feed us. El Niño’s approach, forecast to bring drier conditions to northern South America including Guyana, will amplify the drought risk already stalking our savannas and coastal plains. What was a tough season becomes a crisis when pumps fail, irrigation canals run dry, and fish stocks in our rivers and coastal waters thin out from warming seas.
Farmers on the Frontline Our farmers—those weathered hands in the fields from Parika to Orealla—are the true casualties in this unfolding drama. The UN report tallies crop losses and work hours evaporated by heat, but it barely whispers about the human toll: billions of farmworkers worldwide, including ours, facing heat stress that saps strength, spikes heart rates, and claims lives. In Guyana, where agriculture employs one in five and supports even more through markets and supply chains, a single hot spell can halt planting or harvesting entirely. Imagine weeding peppers or tending cattle under a sun that feels like an oven, day after scorching day—250 dangerous workdays a year could soon be the norm in parts of the Caribbean and Latin America.
The prescription falls short because it treats workers as afterthoughts. Heat-tolerant seeds and better irrigation are vital, but without shaded rest areas, scheduled work breaks, water stations, and community cooling centers, farmers won’t survive to plant them. This is a labor crisis masked as a climate one; our beleaguered consumers will pay the price in empty shelves and soaring prices.
Livestock and Food Crops in the Crosshairs
Food crops bear the brunt first: eddoes, cassava, and plantains shrivel in parched soil, while flooding from erratic rains—possible in El Niño’s chaotic patterns—rots roots and washes away topsoil. Rice, our staple, clings precariously to overtaxed waterways, but yields drop as heat shortens grain-filling phases. Livestock fares worse—chickens stop laying, cattle’s feed intake plummets in humidity, and fish farms battle oxygen-depleted waters. The result?
A domino fall: fewer eggs on market tables, pricier beef, and ground provisions that vanish overnight.
Consumers, already stretched by inflation and import reliance, face the hard guava truth: local abundance could flip to scarcity. Grocery bills climb as middlemen hoard what little survives, and the urban poor in Georgetown or Linden ration meals while rural families slaughter weakened animals too early.
Prepping for the Hard Guava Season
This is the somber call to action—no sugarcoating, just preparation. Farmers, diversify now: intercrop with resilient varieties like breadfruit or pigeon peas, mulch soils to retain moisture, and invest in rainwater harvesting before the dry spell bites. Communities, build solidarity—share boreholes, organize communal shade structures, and advocate for government heat alerts tailored to agriculture. Policymakers must step up: subsidize solar pumps, enforce rest mandates during peak heat, and weave farmworker protections into every climate plan.
The warning is clear, Guyana: El Niño may unleash the storm, but unchecked warming ensures the devastation lingers. Our farmers and families deserve better than reactive bandaids—they need a food system that shields its guardians. Heed this reality check, or the hard guava season will redefine hunger in the land of many waters. The time to act is not tomorrow; it is with the next sunrise.
Yours truly,
Hemdutt Kumar
