Couscous is a dish that is so present in the northeast of Brazil that many Brazilians know nothing of their African origin. The food made from maize flour is an essential part of Brazilian food culture. One of the products that tries to The "Flocão da Paixão" is the best way to establish the "Flocão da Paixão". But the battle for market share is fierce.
At a quick glance through the shelves of a supermarket, the couscous products may look the same. But appearances are deceptive. So-called "commercial" seeds dominate the food market. A bitter aftertaste: the associated use of agrotoxic substances and genetic modification are a threat to people and the environment. Mateus Nascimento, a young farmer from Queimadas, Paraíba, explains: "In contrast to commercial products, our maize, the basis for Brazilian couscous, is free of transgenes. This makes our "Flocão da Paixão" (flakes of passion) not only tastier, but also healthier," says the 25-year-old.
The success of their maize flakes is not only the result of the quality of the product, but also the mobilization of an entire area to protect the commons from the threats posed by agriculture and water management, as Emanoel Dias, agricultural technician at our partner organization ASPTA, explains. "The maize is processed into the end product based on local customs and demand. It is a particularly tasty food that does indeed have a story to tell."
Hope for a turnaround in agricultural policy
Mateus Nascimento explains that there is a training course for farmers in the Borborema area that teaches them about the importance of growing native seeds and the risks of growing GMOs (genetically modified organisms). But according to him, one of the biggest challenges for maintaining the production of "Flocão da Paixão" is the cultivation of maize itself. "We are farmers who grow in dry areas. We have no irrigated areas. This year we have good prospects for sales because it has rained a lot and we have therefore achieved a large maize production. But if it doesn't rain in a year like 2021, we will make big losses, and our concern is: where will the GMO-free maize come from then?"
Mateus Nascimento adds that access to land also remains a difficulty. The farms where young people grow maize are still small. He is therefore pinning his hopes on the elections that will take place in October this year. "We hope that a new government will bring about real agricultural reform so that young people can produce sustainably and in larger quantities through new settlements and areas."
Goosebumps when the machine grinds
The seed commission of the Borborema region, of which Mateus Nascimento is a member, discussed the processing of maize many years ago. Between 2018 and 2019, they purchased the first machines for the production of maize flour. After a thorough analysis of the machines, they were able to optimize their work processes and purchase machines with a more suitable sieving system. These ultimately enabled them to produce the corn flakes. "When the machine grinds and the flakes fall out, I still get goosebumps - just thinking about it fills me with indescribable joy and pride. Proud because our achievement gave us access to a market that we could never have dreamed of tapping into. Sales were difficult at the beginning. Today, the "Flocão da Paixão" is a bestseller, our golden treasure, so to speak."
The CoopBorborema cooperative was founded in 2021 - in the middle of the pandemic. But that didn't stop her from pursuing her dream. And her hard work bore fruit: "Today, there are also young people working in production. Young people who know how to use the machines and are involved in processing. If you go into the cooperative today, you will see young people who can explain the whole process to you. It's impressive and a great achievement," says Mateus Nascimento.
Guardians of the native seed
In the semi-arid region of Paraíba, where the Borborema area is located, the indigenous seeds that are passed down from generation to generation are known as seeds of passion. The men and women who look after them are known as guardians. These seeds are adapted to the region and have withstood the test of time and climate. But the struggle is great, because commercial seeds, which require the use of agrotoxic substances and favor genetic modification, are a threat to people and the environment.
An act of resistance
The few public measures to preserve and use indigenous seeds have declined in recent years, making the preservation of these seeds an act of resistance. Behind every seed is not only the value of the genetic material, but also a cultural value. Behind each one is the story of the people who nurture, care for and propagate the seed. Even before the "Flocão da Paixão" hit the shelves, several strategies for preserving seeds had already been developed and implemented. One of the strategies was the establishment and preservation of seed banks. These are community or family spaces where everyone keeps their seeds to protect them from threats. There are currently over 300 such banks in Paraíba. One of them is located on Mateus Nascimento's estate, in the old house where his grandparents used to live.
Fight for food security
The way the Borborema area is organized based on different strategies has allowed the area to be practically an oasis in a harsh reality. The second national study "National Survey on Food Insecurity in the Context of the Covid-19 Pandemic in Brazil" shows that 125.2 million people are affected by food insecurity and more than 33 million are hungry. The Northeast is the second most affected region, with the highest percentage of hungry families in Brazil: 21 percent of people have severe food restrictions. Silvio Porto, professor at the Federal University of Recôncavo Baiano, emphasizes the importance of promoting local production and consumption in the areas more directly.
Mateus Nascimento and his family are a good example of what Silvio Porto emphasizes. "As soon as I produce food and sell it at a fair price, I give other people with low incomes the opportunity to have access to this food. Thanks to the opportunities I have gained through the
ASPTA, my family and I live from what we produce on our land and from our income, which we use to get other food. My family and I don't have to go hungry, and I don't know what it feels like. I know that hunger hurts. But that's the thing about knowledge - you don't know without ever having experienced it."
Author: Fernanda Cruz, employee of Allianz terre des hommes schweiz/Terre des Hommes Suisse
Editing and translation: Sheila Glasz
