Once animated by the hum of ploughs and the songs of farmers, the fertile lands of Ndakonon now lie eerily silent. Located about 80 kilometers from Sarh, the capital of Moyen-Chari province in southern Chad, Ndakonon, is experiencing the damaging effects of a widespread phenomenon: rural exodus. As young and able-bodied residents leave in search of better opportunities, the local agricultural sector is steadily declining.
Agriculture remains Chad’s most vital economic activity, contributing nearly a quarter of the country’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) and employing around 80 percent of the national workforce.
Located in the heart of Africa, Chad spans 1,284,000 square kilometres and has an estimated population of 13 million. More than half of the population is under the age of 15, while only 4% are over 60. In Ndakonon, this demographic imbalance is particularly visible. The village is now populated mainly by children and elderly people, underscoring the near-total absence of able-bodied individuals needed to sustain agricultural work.
Abandoned fields, dashed hopes
“Millet, maize, groundnuts and cotton used to be cultivated across vast areas. Now, there’s no one left to till the land,” laments Ndakonsoal Djiguertan, the traditional chief of Ndakonon. At 62, he has witnessed the transformation of his village with deep concern. “The youth are leaving for N’Djamena or even Cameroon. They say there’s no future here.”
His words echo a broader trend affecting rural Chad. According to a 2023 report by the Institut National de la Statistique, des Études Économiques et Démographiques (INSEED) – the National Institute of Statistics, Economic and Demographic Studies, nearly 62% of young people aged 18 to 35 in rural areas had migrated to urban centers. In Ndakonon, the impact is especially stark. Estimates from the Village development committee suggest that the community has lost almost 40% of its working-age population over the past decade, a blow that continues to undermine its agricultural productivity and local economy.
According to Ndakonsoal Djiguertan, the lack of educational infrastructure in the village is a key driver of youth exodus. “We only have two primary schools and one lower secondary school,” he explains. “Once students obtain their Brevet de l’Enseignement Fondamental (BEFM) or certificate granted after 4 years of secondary education, they have no choice but to go to town to continue their studies and most of them never return to the village.”
Silent crisis in agriculture
Ndakonon’s main source of income was subsistence farming, growing crops such as millet, cassava, sesame and beans. These crops did not always require heavy mechanisation, but were labour-intensive. “Since my two sons left for the city, I’ve been working alone,” says Suzanne Madjiam, a 49-year-old widow with six children. Sitting in the shade of a mango tree, she points to a small field that is only partly weeded. “I no longer have the strength to cultivate the whole field.” Last year, I barely harvested two sacks of millet. Before that, it was six.’ I don’t know how I’m going to manage this season.’
The economic consequences are clear with agricultural production, particularly cotton, dropping by almost 35% in the Ndakonon area over the past five years, according to Ngartira Ndilmadji, a leading cotton producer in Ndakonon. This decline is exacerbating the already fragile food security situation in a region where nearly half of all households live below the poverty line.
Between dreams of elsewhere and severed roots
Why are so many young people leaving? The answers Dialogue Migration gathered from those still in the area were strikingly consistent: a lack of opportunity, limited access to education and the lure of modern city life. “There’s no secondary school here, no internet – nothing. Even mobile phone signals are unreliable,” says Fidèle Kemtayasse, 23, who returned to the village for a short visit after spending a year in N’Djamena, where he now works as a motorcycle taxi driver. “At least over there I can earn a little money. Here, you work under the sun all day – for nothing.”
But the exodus is creating a deeper, structural void in the village. “We’re losing manpower, expertise and hope,” laments Sidonie Solkem, a leader in a local agricultural cooperative. “The worst part is, when the young people do return, they no longer want to pick up a hoe.”
Initiatives to reverse the trend
In response to the rural crisis, a handful of initiatives have emerged aimed at encouraging young people to stay. One such effort is the Ndouya Allah farm in Ndakonon, which provides training in agro-ecology. “We teach young people how to make compost, grow intensive vegetable crops, and use climate-resilient seeds,” explains Mamtode Valery, the general secretary of the Ndouya Allah farm.
However, he admits that the impact has been limited. “Over the past two years, interest has declined. Young people in our village have lost the motivation to be trained. And those who did complete the training often chose to leave, usually because they lacked access to funding or land,” he says. “Lately, it’s the youth from surrounding villages who are showing the most enthusiasm.”
Rethinking the future
While Chad looks to agriculture as a cornerstone of its development, the reality in Ndakonon reveals a more complex challenge. Without adequate infrastructure, support or viable opportunities, southern villages risk falling into abandonment and with them, their invaluable ancestral agricultural knowledge.
Yet, Ndakonon’s chief, Ndakonsoal Djiguertan, remains optimistic: “The State must turn its attention to us. We need support to modernise our practices, train the youth and find markets for our produce. Otherwise, our fields will revert to forest, and our villages will fade into mere memories.”
