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| Figure 1. A displaced farmer prepares land before planting in Kukarata, northeastern Nigeria. Source: FAO/Sonia Nguyen (2016). |
Imagine waking up to a message from the soil:
“You have been using and taking from me for generations, recently with almost no duty of care for me. Today, I need you to tell me why I should keep giving.”
It is an uncomfortable question because we have very little to say in our defence.
Introduction
Soil does its dying in silence. There is no smoke over a forest, no plastic washing up on a beach, no river running the wrong colour to photograph — just one thin centimetre of topsoil disappearing at a time, underground, out of sight. Yet soil is not a passive substance. It is arguably the most biologically crowded ecosystem on the planet: a single handful of healthy soil can hold more living organisms than there are people on Earth, an underground community that recycles nutrients, filters water, stores carbon and holds land together. Soil is not simply where the environment happens. Soil is the environment, working from below.
Across Nigeria, that ecosystem is unravelling. In northern Nigeria and other affected areas, the country is reported to lose about 350,000 hectares of land each year to desertification and other land and forest degradation activities. Earlier studies have estimated that desertification affected an area equivalent to about 43% of Nigeria’s total land area, although estimates vary by definition, period and methodology. An estimated 3,000 gully sites have been reported across southeastern Nigeria, with thousands described as active erosion sites. In between, deforestation, bush burning, chemical overuse and unmanaged waste have quietly stripped soil of the microbial life that keeps it fertile at all. This academy calls the relationship between people and soil SoilMates, because it is, in the truest ecological sense, a partnership: soil sustains every ecosystem we claim to care about, and in return it asks only to be left with living cover, organic matter, and a level of disturbance it can recover from.
This article speaks from the perspective of one side of that partnership: The Dependents — the millions of Nigerians whose food, income, culture and wellbeing rely directly on healthy land. It sets out who we are and how we relate to the soil, what we must now do to become better SoilMates, and how we can bring the other five SoilMates groups along with us.
We ask soil to grow our food. We build on it. We graze on it. We extract from it. We bury our waste in it. We clear vegetation from it. We depend on it for livelihoods and ecosystems we rarely think about until they begin to fail.
Soil does its dying in silence. There is no smoke over a forest, no plastic washing up on a beach, no river running the wrong colour to photograph — just one thin centimetre of topsoil disappearing at a time, underground, out of sight. Yet soil is not a passive substance. It is arguably the most biologically crowded ecosystem on the planet: a single handful of healthy soil can hold more living organisms than there are people on Earth, an underground community that recycles nutrients, filters water, stores carbon and holds land together. Soil is not simply where the environment happens. Soil is the environment, working from below.
Across Nigeria, that ecosystem is unravelling. In northern Nigeria and other affected areas, the country is reported to lose about 350,000 hectares of land each year to desertification and other land and forest degradation activities. Earlier studies have estimated that desertification affected an area equivalent to about 43% of Nigeria’s total land area, although estimates vary by definition, period and methodology. An estimated 3,000 gully sites have been reported across southeastern Nigeria, with thousands described as active erosion sites. In between, deforestation, bush burning, chemical overuse and unmanaged waste have quietly stripped soil of the microbial life that keeps it fertile at all. This academy calls the relationship between people and soil SoilMates, because it is, in the truest ecological sense, a partnership: soil sustains every ecosystem we claim to care about, and in return it asks only to be left with living cover, organic matter, and a level of disturbance it can recover from.
This article speaks from the perspective of one side of that partnership: The Dependents — the millions of Nigerians whose food, income, culture and wellbeing rely directly on healthy land. It sets out who we are and how we relate to the soil, what we must now do to become better SoilMates, and how we can bring the other five SoilMates groups along with us.
We ask soil to grow our food. We build on it. We graze on it. We extract from it. We bury our waste in it. We clear vegetation from it. We depend on it for livelihoods and ecosystems we rarely think about until they begin to fail.
And still, we call soil dirt.
Perhaps that is part of the problem.
Perhaps that is part of the problem.
Soil is easy to overlook because its most important work happens quietly. It does not announce when nutrients are being depleted. It does not send an alert when its structure is deteriorating. It does not protest when erosion begins removing its most productive layer. By the time the consequences become obvious, the damage may already be difficult and expensive to reverse.
The question, therefore, is not whether we depend on soil. We do.
The more important question is whether we have learned how to depend on it without exhausting its ability to sustain us.
The more important question is whether we have learned how to depend on it without exhausting its ability to sustain us.
The crisis beneath our feet
The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations estimates that about 95% of the food we eat is directly or indirectly produced on soil. Soil also supports water regulation, nutrient cycling, biodiversity and carbon storage (Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations [FAO, n.d.]. Yet the resource supporting so much of human life is under pressure.
The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations estimates that about 95% of the food we eat is directly or indirectly produced on soil. Soil also supports water regulation, nutrient cycling, biodiversity and carbon storage (Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations [FAO, n.d.]. Yet the resource supporting so much of human life is under pressure.
A 2024 review of the state of the world's soils estimated that 33% of soils are moderately to highly degraded. The review identifies erosion, loss of organic matter, poor nutrient balance, salinisation and alkalinisation, contamination, acidification, biodiversity loss, soil sealing, compaction and poor water status among the major threats (Smith et al., 2024).
The consequences are not merely environmental. FAO's State of Food and Agriculture 2025 reports that about 1.7 billion people live in areas where accumulated human-induced land degradation has reduced crop yields. It also emphasises that land degradation affects food production, livelihoods and vulnerable populations, and that responses must be tailored to different landholding scales (FAO, 2025a).
These figures tell us something important: degraded land is not simply land that looks bad.
It is land that is becoming less capable of doing the work we depend on it to do.
Nigeria is already experiencing the consequences
Nigeria's soil story does not look the same everywhere.
In some northern communities, degradation is closely tied to desertification, vegetation loss and pressure on grazing and agricultural land. In parts of the southeast, severe erosion has carved deep gullies through farmland, roads and communities. Elsewhere, continuous cultivation, nutrient depletion, deforestation, inappropriate land management and pollution are gradually weakening the land.
Nigeria’s 2022 National Agricultural Sample Census provides a useful community-level picture of the problem. In the NBS community survey, respondents were asked what share of farmland in their communities had been affected by land degradation or declining soil fertility during the previous three years. Among the 26,555 communities covered, 29.7% reported that 1–25% of farmland was affected, 15.4% reported 26–50%, 6.7% reported 51–75%, and 1.6% reported 76–100%. The figures are community-level survey results and should not be interpreted as the percentage of Nigeria’s total farmland that is degraded.
The problem is also not simply about whether nutrients exist in the soil; it is about whether the soil can continue to function well. Research in continuously cultivated rice fields in Anambra State found bulk density as high as 2.01 Mg/m³ at one study site, alongside reduced organic carbon and elevated cadmium in some sampled soils (Okafor et al., 2025). That gives the abstract idea of “soil degradation” a physical reality: repeated use can alter the structure and chemistry of the soil itself.
The soil is not suddenly failing us. In many places, it has been telling us for years.
These figures tell us something important: degraded land is not simply land that looks bad.
It is land that is becoming less capable of doing the work we depend on it to do.
Nigeria is already experiencing the consequences
Nigeria's soil story does not look the same everywhere.
In some northern communities, degradation is closely tied to desertification, vegetation loss and pressure on grazing and agricultural land. In parts of the southeast, severe erosion has carved deep gullies through farmland, roads and communities. Elsewhere, continuous cultivation, nutrient depletion, deforestation, inappropriate land management and pollution are gradually weakening the land.
Nigeria’s 2022 National Agricultural Sample Census provides a useful community-level picture of the problem. In the NBS community survey, respondents were asked what share of farmland in their communities had been affected by land degradation or declining soil fertility during the previous three years. Among the 26,555 communities covered, 29.7% reported that 1–25% of farmland was affected, 15.4% reported 26–50%, 6.7% reported 51–75%, and 1.6% reported 76–100%. The figures are community-level survey results and should not be interpreted as the percentage of Nigeria’s total farmland that is degraded.
The problem is also not simply about whether nutrients exist in the soil; it is about whether the soil can continue to function well. Research in continuously cultivated rice fields in Anambra State found bulk density as high as 2.01 Mg/m³ at one study site, alongside reduced organic carbon and elevated cadmium in some sampled soils (Okafor et al., 2025). That gives the abstract idea of “soil degradation” a physical reality: repeated use can alter the structure and chemistry of the soil itself.
The soil is not suddenly failing us. In many places, it has been telling us for years.
The dependent is part of the problem
There is an uncomfortable truth in this relationship: those who depend on soil can also contribute to its degradation.
A farmer removes nutrients when crops are harvested. A grazier can place pressure on vegetation and soil when grazing exceeds the land's capacity to recover. Clearing vegetation exposes soil to erosion. Repeated cultivation without adequate recovery can exhaust nutrients. Poorly managed waste can introduce pollutants. Construction can seal or disturb soil. Extraction activities can remove vegetation and alter the soil profile.
Nigeria's soil-fertility literature reinforces the point. Ogunwusi and Ibrahim (2019) report generally low organic matter in the Nigerian soils they reviewed, ranging from 1% to 2.55%, alongside generally low potassium and wide variation in fertility and productivity indices. The authors identify erosion, desert encroachment, inappropriate agricultural practices, oil spillage and other pressures among factors contributing to soil fertility depletion.
But blaming individual land users misses the bigger picture. People make choices within systems.
A farmer who needs to feed a household today may not be able to prioritise benefits that will only appear several seasons later. A land user may know that soil testing is useful but lack affordable access to it. A farmer may understand erosion control but lack the equipment, labour or finance required to implement it. That means sustainable soil management cannot be reduced to telling people to “do better.”
The system has to make doing better possible.
This is where our understanding of dependence must change.
Dependence should not create entitlement.
It should create responsibility.
There is an uncomfortable truth in this relationship: those who depend on soil can also contribute to its degradation.
A farmer removes nutrients when crops are harvested. A grazier can place pressure on vegetation and soil when grazing exceeds the land's capacity to recover. Clearing vegetation exposes soil to erosion. Repeated cultivation without adequate recovery can exhaust nutrients. Poorly managed waste can introduce pollutants. Construction can seal or disturb soil. Extraction activities can remove vegetation and alter the soil profile.
Nigeria's soil-fertility literature reinforces the point. Ogunwusi and Ibrahim (2019) report generally low organic matter in the Nigerian soils they reviewed, ranging from 1% to 2.55%, alongside generally low potassium and wide variation in fertility and productivity indices. The authors identify erosion, desert encroachment, inappropriate agricultural practices, oil spillage and other pressures among factors contributing to soil fertility depletion.
But blaming individual land users misses the bigger picture. People make choices within systems.
A farmer who needs to feed a household today may not be able to prioritise benefits that will only appear several seasons later. A land user may know that soil testing is useful but lack affordable access to it. A farmer may understand erosion control but lack the equipment, labour or finance required to implement it. That means sustainable soil management cannot be reduced to telling people to “do better.”
The system has to make doing better possible.
This is where our understanding of dependence must change.
Dependence should not create entitlement.
It should create responsibility.
We cannot stop taking. We must learn how to take differently
There is no realistic future in which humanity stops using soil.
We will continue to cultivate crops.
We will continue to rear animals.
We will continue to build communities.
We will continue to depend on land for livelihoods.
The goal is therefore not to create a world where humans take nothing from soil.
The goal is to ensure that what we take does not permanently destroy the soil's capacity to give again.
That requires a shift from extraction to stewardship.
It begins with knowing what is happening beneath our feet.
There is no realistic future in which humanity stops using soil.
We will continue to cultivate crops.
We will continue to rear animals.
We will continue to build communities.
We will continue to depend on land for livelihoods.
The goal is therefore not to create a world where humans take nothing from soil.
The goal is to ensure that what we take does not permanently destroy the soil's capacity to give again.
That requires a shift from extraction to stewardship.
It begins with knowing what is happening beneath our feet.
Know the soil
Soil management should begin with information rather than assumption.
A field does not necessarily need the same nutrients, treatment or management as the field beside it. Soil testing can reveal nutrient deficiencies and other properties that help determine appropriate interventions. Treating every farm with the same fertiliser blend ignores differences between soils and can waste scarce resources.
The practical response is to push low-cost, farmer-accessible soil testing through existing agricultural extension structures, rather than leaving soil science locked inside university laboratories.
The data should not stop at the farmer. Results can feed into a shared national soil-information system, helping extension officers, researchers and policymakers see where problems are concentrated and where support is needed.
Feed the soil, not just the crop
A productive harvest is not the only measure of success.
If today's harvest comes at the expense of tomorrow's soil fertility, the system is borrowing from the future.
Depending on local conditions, practices such as composting, retaining appropriate crop residues, cover cropping, crop rotation, agroforestry and integrated nutrient management can help maintain soil functions. Nutrient depletion is particularly serious where nutrients removed in crops are not adequately replaced. Research on potassium balances in sub-Saharan Africa has documented persistent negative nutrient balances associated with continuous cultivation, low nutrient inputs and losses through erosion and leaching (Tully et al., 2021).
The important point is not to prescribe one universal practice, but to match interventions to the actual degradation problem and local context.
Soil management should begin with information rather than assumption.
A field does not necessarily need the same nutrients, treatment or management as the field beside it. Soil testing can reveal nutrient deficiencies and other properties that help determine appropriate interventions. Treating every farm with the same fertiliser blend ignores differences between soils and can waste scarce resources.
The practical response is to push low-cost, farmer-accessible soil testing through existing agricultural extension structures, rather than leaving soil science locked inside university laboratories.
The data should not stop at the farmer. Results can feed into a shared national soil-information system, helping extension officers, researchers and policymakers see where problems are concentrated and where support is needed.
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| Figure 2. The effects of soil salinization in Nigeria. Source: FAO/Israel Smart (2021). |
Feed the soil, not just the crop
A productive harvest is not the only measure of success.
If today's harvest comes at the expense of tomorrow's soil fertility, the system is borrowing from the future.
Depending on local conditions, practices such as composting, retaining appropriate crop residues, cover cropping, crop rotation, agroforestry and integrated nutrient management can help maintain soil functions. Nutrient depletion is particularly serious where nutrients removed in crops are not adequately replaced. Research on potassium balances in sub-Saharan Africa has documented persistent negative nutrient balances associated with continuous cultivation, low nutrient inputs and losses through erosion and leaching (Tully et al., 2021).
The important point is not to prescribe one universal practice, but to match interventions to the actual degradation problem and local context.
Protect the structure
A soil can contain nutrients and still function poorly if its physical structure has deteriorated. Compaction can restrict root growth and water movement. Bare soil is more vulnerable to erosion. Inappropriate tillage can disturb soil structure.
Evidence from Anambra makes this more than a theoretical concern: the continuous-rice study recorded bulk density of 2.01 Mg/m³ at one rice-field site, demonstrating substantial physical change under intensive cultivation (Okafor et al., 2025).
This makes erosion control, vegetation cover, appropriate tillage and targeted restoration important components of soil stewardship—particularly in areas already experiencing severe degradation.
The principle is simple: do not wait until the soil is visibly failing before protecting its structure.
A soil can contain nutrients and still function poorly if its physical structure has deteriorated. Compaction can restrict root growth and water movement. Bare soil is more vulnerable to erosion. Inappropriate tillage can disturb soil structure.
Evidence from Anambra makes this more than a theoretical concern: the continuous-rice study recorded bulk density of 2.01 Mg/m³ at one rice-field site, demonstrating substantial physical change under intensive cultivation (Okafor et al., 2025).
This makes erosion control, vegetation cover, appropriate tillage and targeted restoration important components of soil stewardship—particularly in areas already experiencing severe degradation.
The principle is simple: do not wait until the soil is visibly failing before protecting its structure.
Fund the change
- Good recommendations become meaningless when the people expected to implement them cannot afford to do so.
- Government has a role in making soil testing, agricultural extension and sustainable land-management support part of core agricultural infrastructure. Fertiliser support should increasingly be informed by soil conditions rather than assuming that one national blend is appropriate everywhere.
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| Figure 3. Field training and land-restoration activities in northern Nigeria. Source: FAO/ACReSAL, Kano and Jigawa States (2025). |
- Farmers and cooperatives can adopt tested practices and feed local observations and soil data back into wider soil-monitoring systems.
- The private sector can help make soil-testing kits, compost, bio-based inputs and other appropriate technologies affordable at scale.
- Researchers need to move findings beyond journals and into practical systems that land users can apply.
- Communities and traditional institutions also matter because land-use decisions are not made by government alone.
- Policy without a willing farmer is paper, but a willing farmer without support can also be powerless.
One soil, one accountability system
This is where the conversation needs to move beyond individual practices.
Nigeria does not simply need more people telling communities to protect their soil. It needs a way to know where soil is deteriorating, understand why, track what is being done, and determine whether those interventions are working.
A national soil-health scorecard could provide that common accountability framework.
It could bring together indicators such as:
• soil fertility and nutrient status;
• erosion and land-degradation trends;
• soil organic matter or carbon where appropriate;
• vegetation or land-cover changes;
• restoration activities;
• adoption of sustainable land-management practices;
• access to soil testing and extension services; and
• measurable outcomes for productivity and land condition.
The purpose would not be to produce another report that sits on a shelf.
The information should guide decisions.
A farmer should be able to benefit from better local information.
An extension officer should know where support is most needed.
A policymaker should be able to identify priority areas.
A restoration programme should be able to demonstrate whether its intervention is working.
The public should be able to see whether commitments are being met.
And government should be able to answer a simple question each year:
Is the soil getting healthier, staying the same, or getting worse?
That question turns soil health from an environmental slogan into an accountability issue.
This is where the conversation needs to move beyond individual practices.
Nigeria does not simply need more people telling communities to protect their soil. It needs a way to know where soil is deteriorating, understand why, track what is being done, and determine whether those interventions are working.
A national soil-health scorecard could provide that common accountability framework.
It could bring together indicators such as:
• soil fertility and nutrient status;
• erosion and land-degradation trends;
• soil organic matter or carbon where appropriate;
• vegetation or land-cover changes;
• restoration activities;
• adoption of sustainable land-management practices;
• access to soil testing and extension services; and
• measurable outcomes for productivity and land condition.
The purpose would not be to produce another report that sits on a shelf.
The information should guide decisions.
A farmer should be able to benefit from better local information.
An extension officer should know where support is most needed.
A policymaker should be able to identify priority areas.
A restoration programme should be able to demonstrate whether its intervention is working.
The public should be able to see whether commitments are being met.
And government should be able to answer a simple question each year:
Is the soil getting healthier, staying the same, or getting worse?
That question turns soil health from an environmental slogan into an accountability issue.
Who must be at the table?
The soil crisis has many actors because the dependence on soil has many faces.
The farmer depends on healthy soil.
The scientist depends on land that can still be studied and restored.
The policymaker depends on evidence to make effective decisions.
The business depends on productive agricultural supply chains.
The community depends on land that can support livelihoods.
And the generation coming after us depends on whatever condition we leave behind.
The soil crisis has many actors because the dependence on soil has many faces.
The farmer depends on healthy soil.
The scientist depends on land that can still be studied and restored.
The policymaker depends on evidence to make effective decisions.
The business depends on productive agricultural supply chains.
The community depends on land that can support livelihoods.
And the generation coming after us depends on whatever condition we leave behind.
The different SoilMates therefore have different responsibilities.
The Damagers must reduce practices that actively degrade soil, including destructive land clearing, uncontrolled burning, poor waste disposal and unsustainable extraction.
The Healers must restore degraded land, conserve soil organisms, support regeneration and repair damaged landscapes.
The Protectors must prevent degradation before it becomes expensive or irreversible.
The Storytellers must make soil degradation visible through education, media, art and advocacy.
The Future Mates must live with the consequences of today's choices—and therefore deserve a voice in decisions that determine what condition the land will be handed over in.
And The Dependents must recognise that we are not passive beneficiaries. We are among the people whose everyday choices determine whether the soil remains capable of supporting us.
The Damagers must reduce practices that actively degrade soil, including destructive land clearing, uncontrolled burning, poor waste disposal and unsustainable extraction.
The Healers must restore degraded land, conserve soil organisms, support regeneration and repair damaged landscapes.
The Protectors must prevent degradation before it becomes expensive or irreversible.
The Storytellers must make soil degradation visible through education, media, art and advocacy.
The Future Mates must live with the consequences of today's choices—and therefore deserve a voice in decisions that determine what condition the land will be handed over in.
And The Dependents must recognise that we are not passive beneficiaries. We are among the people whose everyday choices determine whether the soil remains capable of supporting us.
No single group can fix this. That is precisely why they must work together.
What we are asking for
Five commitments can move the response from good intentions to enforceable practice.
First, back a national soil-health scorecard as an accountability tool—not a one-off pilot report. It should track comparable indicators over time and make progress visible.
Second, fund extension services and soil testing as core agricultural infrastructure. Soil knowledge should reach the people making land-use decisions, not remain concentrated in laboratories and reports.
Third, give the scorecard legal teeth. Where appropriate, soil-health indicators should be connected to existing agricultural and environmental legislation, incentives and compliance mechanisms. The aim is not punishment for its own sake, but consequences strong enough to make soil stewardship matter in real decisions.
Fourth, create independent oversight using an existing competent institution rather than automatically creating another bureaucracy. State-level progress should be audited and publicly reported, so implementation does not depend entirely on political goodwill.
Finally, progress should be reviewed publicly every year against the same questions the soil has effectively asked us:
What have we taken?
What have we given back?
And is the soil now in a better condition to give again?
Five commitments can move the response from good intentions to enforceable practice.
First, back a national soil-health scorecard as an accountability tool—not a one-off pilot report. It should track comparable indicators over time and make progress visible.
Second, fund extension services and soil testing as core agricultural infrastructure. Soil knowledge should reach the people making land-use decisions, not remain concentrated in laboratories and reports.
Third, give the scorecard legal teeth. Where appropriate, soil-health indicators should be connected to existing agricultural and environmental legislation, incentives and compliance mechanisms. The aim is not punishment for its own sake, but consequences strong enough to make soil stewardship matter in real decisions.
Fourth, create independent oversight using an existing competent institution rather than automatically creating another bureaucracy. State-level progress should be audited and publicly reported, so implementation does not depend entirely on political goodwill.
Finally, progress should be reviewed publicly every year against the same questions the soil has effectively asked us:
What have we taken?
What have we given back?
And is the soil now in a better condition to give again?
The promise we should make to the soil
If the soil asked us again why it should keep giving, we should not promise that humanity will stop taking.
That promise would be dishonest.
Instead, we should promise something more realistic.
We will measure what is happening to the land.
We will understand what the soil needs before deciding what to put into it.
We will restore where restoration is possible.
We will prevent avoidable degradation.
We will make sustainable practices easier for the people who depend on the land.
We will hold ourselves and our institutions accountable for the condition of the soil.
And we will stop measuring success only by how much the land gives us today.
Because the real test of a productive soil is not whether it can give once.
It is whether it can keep giving.
The soil has spoken.
Perhaps its question was never really, “Why should I keep giving?”
Perhaps the question it has been asking all along is:
If you depend on me this much, when will you begin to depend on me responsibly?”
Our answer must be more than words.
It must be a different relationship with the ground beneath us.
We are dependents.
But dependence does not have to end in depletion.
It can become stewardship.
AUTHORS
Green Switch Academy (GSA) XXXIV – SoilMates
Green Switch Academy Group (GSAG): The Dependents
Green Switch Academy Master (GSAM): ALUGBIN, Aanuoluwapo
GSAG MEMBERS:
1. ADEKOLUJO, Aminat Oyinkansola.
2. ADETUNJI, Mariam Oluwabukola.
3. AKINOLA, Deborah.
4. AKINOLA, Quadri Adedayo.
5. ARAMIDE, Aishat.
6. EMEM, Rita Anyigor.
7. IDOWU, Ifeoluwa Grace.
8. LASHIJI, Yunuz Oyindamola.
9. OREOLUWATOMI, Yussuf.
10. POPOOLA, Aminat Oluwapelumi.
11. SAKA, Mariam Ajoke.
12. UGWU, Adanna Queendaline.
If the soil asked us again why it should keep giving, we should not promise that humanity will stop taking.
That promise would be dishonest.
Instead, we should promise something more realistic.
We will measure what is happening to the land.
We will understand what the soil needs before deciding what to put into it.
We will restore where restoration is possible.
We will prevent avoidable degradation.
We will make sustainable practices easier for the people who depend on the land.
We will hold ourselves and our institutions accountable for the condition of the soil.
And we will stop measuring success only by how much the land gives us today.
Because the real test of a productive soil is not whether it can give once.
It is whether it can keep giving.
The soil has spoken.
Perhaps its question was never really, “Why should I keep giving?”
Perhaps the question it has been asking all along is:
If you depend on me this much, when will you begin to depend on me responsibly?”
Our answer must be more than words.
It must be a different relationship with the ground beneath us.
We are dependents.
But dependence does not have to end in depletion.
It can become stewardship.
AUTHORS
Green Switch Academy (GSA) XXXIV – SoilMates
Green Switch Academy Group (GSAG): The Dependents
Green Switch Academy Master (GSAM): ALUGBIN, Aanuoluwapo
GSAG MEMBERS:
1. ADEKOLUJO, Aminat Oyinkansola.
2. ADETUNJI, Mariam Oluwabukola.
3. AKINOLA, Deborah.
4. AKINOLA, Quadri Adedayo.
5. ARAMIDE, Aishat.
6. EMEM, Rita Anyigor.
7. IDOWU, Ifeoluwa Grace.
8. LASHIJI, Yunuz Oyindamola.
9. OREOLUWATOMI, Yussuf.
10. POPOOLA, Aminat Oluwapelumi.
11. SAKA, Mariam Ajoke.
12. UGWU, Adanna Queendaline.
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