When I first started visiting the project villages for surveys, I did not expect the experience to change my perspective so deeply. I went there to collect data and understand ground realities. What I found was far more powerful than numbers on a sheet.

In the mountain regions, almost every woman is engaged in farming. From early morning until late evening, their lives revolve around the fields. They sow, weed, harvest, carry loads, and manage both the household and agricultural responsibilities. Their contribution to farming is not occasional. It is constant and physically demanding.

Yet, despite investing so much time and energy, very few women are able to sell their agricultural produce in the market. Even more concerning, in many households, farming does not fully meet basic food requirements. The same land that demands their labor does not always ensure their security.
This visible gap between effort and outcome made me reflect deeply. Why does such intense labor not translate into stable income? Why does farming remain subsistence-based despite so much dedication? These questions became the starting point of my journey in a livelihood project focused on income generation and strengthening agriculture as a sustainable source of livelihood. The aim was to increase production and also to improve farming practices, reduce losses, and gradually build pathways for better market access.
At the beginning, I must admit that I was completely unfamiliar with agriculture. I did not know about line sowing, crop patterns, proper spacing, or scientific cultivation methods. Everything was new to me. However, working as a fellow under the APF project with the Mount Valley Development Association became a learning space. With the guidance of my team and continuous exposure to field realities, I slowly began to understand these concepts.
Learning soon transformed into action. What started as personal growth turned into community engagement. I began sharing simple but effective practices like line sowing and explaining how proper spacing and organized crop patterns can improve yield, save seeds, and reduce physical strain. These were small interventions, but they carried meaningful impact.


Working closely with women farmers taught me an important lesson. They are not lacking in hard work, resilience, or commitment. What they often lack is access to updated information, technical guidance, and reliable market linkages. When knowledge and support systems reach the ground, real change becomes possible.
This journey has reshaped my understanding of development. Sustainable change does not begin in offices. It begins in conversations in the fields. It grows through listening, learning, and walking alongside communities. Most importantly, it recognizes the silent strength of women who sustain agriculture every single day. And their resilience reminds me that development is not just about increasing income. It is about dignity, opportunity, and creating systems where hard work truly leads to a better livelihood.

