WE, in the village, are tickled by Vice President Constantino Chiwenga’s working visit to Tajikistan more so by how he has described the Asian country’s smallholder agricultural model as a blueprint Zimbabwe can adapt to empower rural farmers and boost food production.

1 Speaking during an official tour of rural agricultural zones in the Central Asian nation, VP Chiwenga expressed admiration of the country’s use of low-cost, high-output technologies such as rice milling machines capable of processing five tonnes per day.

“Zimbabwe can learn several key strategies from Tajikistan’s agricultural model that focuses on enhancing productivity for small-scale farmers. We aim to empower smallholder farmers to enhance their productivity and achieve a sustainable standard of living through farming . . . We must increase yields on limited land. We have seen that by promoting cooperative models, where farmers can share resources, tools and knowledge, can help in maximising the use of limited land,” said VP Chiwenga.

These remarks which come amid growing calls to invest in grassroots-driven agricultural systems and to scale up support for rural farmers are truly inspiring, our leadership is serious and walking the talk. Indeed, Tajikistan’s emphasis on local tools, knowledge-sharing and community-owned processing facilities offers critical lessons for our country as it pushes towards achieving an upper-middle-income economy.

As VP Constantino Chiwenga toured the cooperative farming communities in Tajikistan, what unfolded before him was not a spectacle of advanced machinery or grand industrial plantations. No, it was something more intimate, more profound, and possibly more relevant to Zimbabwe’s developmental journey.

The rural folk of Tajikistan, smallholder farmers working with minimal land and resources, offered a masterclass in sustainable agricultural productivity. It wasn’t about big machines or expensive interventions. It was about intent, ingenuity, and community. Without doubt one image that lingered in the Vice President’s mind long after the official handshakes and photographs was the small, cost-effective milling machine, quietly churning five tonnes of rice a day. Efficient. Reliable. Locally maintained. This was not just a machine. It was a revelation of what can be replicated here in our country.

VP Chiwenga’s words should be more than words but a challenge to us all. Are we prepared to shift our gaze inward, to re-imagine the power of the smallholder farmer? Are we all prepared to build our economy from the bottom up,  one seed, one cooperative at a time?

It is time we did. And perhaps this is why the message from Tajikistan feels so deeply inspiring. The rural farmer in Zimbabwe see herself as a footnote to the grand economic narrative. But that is a mistake we can no longer afford. Agriculture remains the backbone of our economy. The visit to Tajikistan reminds us that it doesn’t have to be this way. Empowering smallholder farmers should not just be a policy direction; it must be a national imperative.

The cooperative model witnessed in Tajikistan is a reflection of a deeply rooted belief: that together, we can achieve what we cannot accomplish alone. Shared tools. Shared knowledge. Shared responsibility. Imagine Zimbabwe’s rural communities, united under cooperatives that give them collective bargaining power, access to micro-financing, shared processing equipment  and guaranteed markets. Imagine our youths, instead of migrating to cities or other countries, choosing to stay in rural areas because farming has become viable, respected, and profitable.

This is not fiction. It is a choice. A developmental choice that we must make.

The small milling machines that captured the attention of Vice President Chiwenga may seem like minor components in the grand machinery of development, but they are, in fact, the cogs that keep rural economies moving. Too often, we look to large, industrial-scale projects to inspire us. But transformation does not always roar; sometimes, it whispers. The true power lies in cost-effective, scalable innovations that are owned, operated, and maintained by the people they serve.

Imagine the thousands of tonnes of maize, rice, sorghum, and millet we produce annually in Zimbabwe. Now imagine if every ward had at least one milling unit that allowed farmers to process their produce locally. Not only would it reduce post-harvest losses, but it would add value and create jobs. It would localise economic activity. It would empower women, who make up the majority of rural agricultural labour and who often bear the brunt of travelling long distances to mill grain.

Tajikistan’s lesson is not about imitation, but inspiration. It is a reminder that development can be simple, context-specific, and grassroots-led. It is a call for us to believe in the ingenuity of our own people. The path to prosperity is not necessarily paved with the most expensive technology, but with the most appropriate. In Zimbabwe, we have the land. We have the labour. What we need is to act, now.

Agricultural productivity must become more than a budgetary line item; it must become a national culture. We must begin to measure our economic strength not just by stock market indices or urban infrastructure, but by the yields of the smallholder farmer, the quality of rural roads, the availability of local storage facilities, and the number of functional irrigation schemes. The farmer in Binga, the cooperative in Honde Valley, the community granary in Chiredzi; these must become our symbols of progress.

What Tajikistan teaches us is that size does not define impact. Small, when focused and collective, can be mighty. The very idea of smallholder transformation is rooted in trust: trusting that rural communities, when empowered, will rise to the occasion. Trusting that local solutions are not inferior. Trusting that innovation need not always come with a hefty price tag.

We must shift the developmental gaze inward. In every district in Zimbabwe, there are farmers producing miracles with basic tools. They are the unsung economists of our land. Their daily toil feeds us, sustains our grain reserves, and ensures food security. And yet, they often farm at the mercy of the weather, the market, and the distance to the nearest mill or market. What they need is not pity. They need partnership.

The mission is clear: increase yields on limited land.

When rural economies work, the national economy works. The success of Zimbabwe will not be built only in Harare or Bulawayo. It will be forged in the fields of Mhondoro, the gardens of Mutoko, the plots of Matobo. Rural Zimbabwe is not a problem to be solved. It is a potential to be unleashed.

Let us learn from the cooperative spirit of Tajikistan. Let us see the value in modest but meaningful innovations. Let us build systems that respect the rhythms of rural life while opening new avenues of prosperity. Let us, above all, recognizse that no economy can be strong if its foundation, its farmers, is weak.

This is the lesson from Tajikistan. It is not a blueprint, but a mirror. It reflects what we could become if we dared to believe in the value of small steps.

  Businessman Tawanda Chenana is also a philanthropist and Secretary for Lands for ZANU PF Mashonaland East Province.