Mr. Seun Opadare, a Yoruba man living in Ibadan, transformed part of his compound into a small garden. Using only what he had at home, he learned how to grow food for himself and his neighbors, building the garden from the ground up.  His garden is modest in size and wasn’t created through any program or external support. It is a daily practice that he maintains, guided by what he can cultivate with his own hands.  I started documenting him to understand how a simple daily practice can become a form of care that is steady and rooted in place.  

 His work began as a personal decision. He wanted food that stayed close to home rather than traveling through long distribution chains. He began by researching online and watching videos on how to plant and care for crops in a small space. Over time, he expanded his garden, experimenting with crops that could thrive despite changing weather. Now, he grows maize, leafy vegetables, okra, radishes, tomatoes, pineapples, sweet potatoes, bananas, and other plants suited to the rainfall and soil in his compound. People often ask if he studied agriculture, and he always replies no—his interest is driven by passion and the belief that anyone with space should grow what they can. As he explained during one of our conversations, “if we can grow some of what we eat at home, we reduce pressure on the market and depend less on long transport that affects the climate.” Observing shifts in rainfall and temperature, he sees gardening as a practical way to adapt to these changes.  

His decision is also rooted in how the Yoruba understand land. In Yoruba thought, land is inseparable from life—it is part of the household and what sustains a person. Food is not meant to be locked away; when the harvest comes, it should circulate. Accordingly, Mr. Seun Opadare believes that if food grows in front of you, those nearby should also have access to it. He does not treat his garden as a private supply. Instead, he shares fresh produce with his neighbors, without expecting anything in return. As he says, once hunger is removed from a man’s problem, most of the problem is solved. The movement of the harvest is part of its meaning, showing that the garden sustains both him and the surrounding community. 

Nigeria is facing rising food prices, unpredictable weather, and pressure on household economies. In such times, a small garden within a family compound might seem insignificant from the outside. But its meaning goes far beyond its size. The garden is a form of adaptation, reducing dependence on external systems that are not always reliable. It is also a way to maintain a sense of self-determination. Mr. Seun Opadare grows without chemicals and sees this as a matter of health and responsibility. Many assume resilience comes only from large-scale interventions or organized structures, yet Mr. Seun Opadare’s work demonstrates that everyday, steady practices are also acts of resilience. His garden keeps food close to home in a way that addresses both necessity and dignity.

Sow. Hoe. Grow. is centered on the way a person relates to land and how that relationship extends into the life of a community. It is a record of a home space turning into a living source of support and connection. It is a way of showing that resilience can grow quietly and still matter.