In her talk, the speaker discusses the profound connection between climate change and human adaptation, emphasizing the resilience of the planet and questioning human adaptability. She highlights the importance of indigenous knowledge and traditional practices in tackling modern-day challenges, particularly in food systems, and invites the audience to consider the benefits of integrating these insights into contemporary approaches.

The speaker shares personal anecdotes about relearning traditional practices like consuming indigenous foods, such as Nathi and utilizing cornfliff, and underscores the potential of these methods in enhancing sustainability. She stresses the importance of intergenerational transmission of knowledge, expressing concern over the loss of agricultural practices and indigenous wisdom due to urbanization and changing perceptions.

Main takeaways from the video:

Please remember to turn on the CC button to view the subtitles.

Key Vocabularies and Common Phrases:

1. indigenous [ɪnˈdɪdʒənəs] - (adjective) - Originating or occurring naturally in a particular place; native. - Synonyms: (native, original, local)

What does indigenous or traditional knowledge mean to you?

2. humility [hjuːˈmɪlɪti] - (noun) - A modest view of one's importance; humbleness. - Synonyms: (modesty, humbleness, meekness)

Can we allow ourselves the humility to consider that these solutions exist in communities around the world?

3. resilient [rɪˈzɪljənt] - (adjective) - Able to withstand or recover quickly from difficult conditions. - Synonyms: (strong, hardy, durable)

...resilient solutions that have stood the test of time and that we can integrate in our modern approaches?

4. nostalgia [nəˈstældʒə] - (noun) - A sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past. - Synonyms: (yearning, longing, reminiscence)

It has made a comeback quite recently, and excitement, and I must admit nostalgia, had me calling my friends...

5. erosion [ɪˈroʊʒən] - (noun) - The gradual destruction or diminution of something. - Synonyms: (wearing away, destruction, corrosion)

Could it be a slow erosion of knowledge?

6. custodians [kʌsˈtoʊdiənz] - (noun) - Persons who have responsibility for or control over something; caretakers. - Synonyms: (guardians, keepers, caretakers)

It flows in everyday interactions passed down from those we consider custodians.

7. urbanization [ˌɜrbənɪˈzeɪʃən] - (noun) - The process by which cities grow or by which societies become more urban. - Synonyms: (city growth, urban development, metropolitan expansion)

This flow can be interrupted through various channels, two of which are urbanization and negative perception.

8. advocacy [ˈædvəkəsi] - (noun) - Public support for or recommendation of a particular cause or policy. - Synonyms: (support, promotion, backing)

We can also see an increase in advocacy for the integration of indigenous knowledge happening across forums...

9. perception [pərˈsɛpʃən] - (noun) - The way in which something is regarded, understood, or interpreted. - Synonyms: (view, belief, understanding)

This flow can be interrupted through various channels, two of which are urbanization and negative perception.

10. synergistic [ˌsɪnərˈdʒɪstɪk] - (adjective) - Involving the interaction or cooperation of two or more organizations, substances, or other agents to produce a combined effect greater than the sum of their separate effects. - Synonyms: (cooperative, collaborative, combined)

A great example of the synergistic relationship that exists between these two knowledge streams.

What Indigenous knowledge reveals about our food and agriculture - Nimo MUTHIKE - TEDxKitisuru

My hands are cold. Let's see if it's related to my topic or just navs. Climate change is not just a planet problem, it's a people problem. The planet will adapt. It's done so so many times in the past. The question then is will we the people, and what options are available?

As I was preparing for my talk, I told my mom that I wanted to reflect on the type of individuals I would have in the audience and she responded that I am likely to have some individuals who think so. Soil is that. This is surprising to me because I love soil. I put a seed or a cutting in it and it gives me a flower to admire or a fruit or vegetable to add to my plate. It, however, allowed me to think about my topic from different points of view and it is my hope that I can connect with you today.

In my 15 years experience working with smallholder farming communities in the global south, I am amazed by the wealth and depth of knowledge and information that exists in these communities. In our pursuit of solutions to modern day challenges in our food systems, like the lack of dietary diversity that is linked to our changing climate, can we allow ourselves the humility to consider that these solutions exist in communities around the world, resilient solutions that have stood the test of time and that we can integrate in our modern approaches? What does indigenous or traditional knowledge mean to you? Something old and in the past? Maybe backwards? Or perhaps a connection from the past that has some relevance in the present or something else altogether? I invite you to think of indigenous knowledge as a bridge connecting our past to what can potentially be our more innovative future.

When I used the word innovative just then, what came to your mind? For me for the longest time, it evoked a futuristic Sci-Fi image, a lot like the Jetsons cartoon that was quite popular as I was growing up. You know, flying cars, Rosie the robot, cleaning up after everybody. Such an awesome life, right? However, the more I think about it, innovation is about connecting with our past, allowing ourselves to identify, learn and advance effective technologies. One such technology or practice is the production and consumption of indigenous foods which are better suited to our local environment.

For instance, I want you to consider Nathi, a favorite childhood fruit of mine. It has made a comeback quite recently, and excitement, and I must admit nostalgia, had me calling my friends and my family to let them know that Nathi is now available in stores. You see, the fruit is not only well adapted to its environment, it has a mean punch of antioxidants. In my excitement, I got a bit reflective. Why had it disappeared? What changed and maybe more importantly to me, what could we learn from its reintroduction?

I asked the same question of the cornfield, a rough looking vegetable, but a key ingredient in Mokimo, a delicious traditional meal from my community. However, I was very surprised when I was having a conversation with my friend Wambui, who is from the same community and same age group, and she told me that she was unaware of the utilization of the cornfliff as a food. This conversation left me wondering, if the gap or the challenge is not availability, what could it be? Could it be a slow erosion of knowledge? And could this erosion be one of the silent tragedies of our time, disconnecting us from generations of knowledge and wisdom?

For me, the knowledge to prepare the corn Philip came from observation and practice in my grandmother's and mother's kitchens, and the knowledge to forage for Nathi from my grandfather's shamba, where an older cousin introduced me to the fruit, though to be honest, at first I thought it was poisonous. Knowledge is seen as intergenerational. It is rooted in practice. It flows in everyday interactions passed down from those we consider custodians. To us, however, this flow can be interrupted through various channels, two of which are urbanization and negative perception.

This erosion can be seen in the agriculture sector, where traditionally farming communities in arid and segregated semi-arid areas used to maintain a vine of sweet potatoes at the farm's edge, and this was to provide for food during tough seasons that are affected by drought. This practice is no longer common for farmers, my generation and younger, and again, this can be attributed to many factors, two of which are lack of knowledge of the practice and lack of awareness of the practice and lack of knowledge on how to deploy the practice.

So what is our way forward? What can we do to prevent this loss? One way forward can be seen in the arts and cultural sectors, where museums and cultural institutions are going into communities to document these practices and beliefs. We can also see an increase in advocacy for the integration of indigenous knowledge happening across forums, both development and academics. However, there is a simple yet powerful step each and every one of us can take.

Talk to your neighbor. Find out about a unique practice, belief, or craft from their community. Document grandma's recipe that you salivate over. Talk to Grandpa about his farming techniques, like how he takes care of Musa, his favorite dairy cow. Learn from them. Share them.

To put this in practice, let me share an interesting fact I learned from a story sharing forum I recently attended. Apparently, not all bees produce honey. Shocking. At least it was to me. In this session with a room full of participants from across the world. We learned from a video recording of a gentleman who keeps bees in one of the natural, long standing forests in Kenya, the art and science of beekeeping. We learned about the different trees that are good for stringing up a beehive and the effect of those trees on the taste of the honey. And though I cannot remember each and every bit of that lesson, the video recording is available if and when I want to keep bees.

As we dream of grand plants like cultural knowledge repositories, let us not overlook the importance of these simple steps in keeping knowledge alive. Today, as we see the reintroduction of forgotten crops like Nathi in our stores and in our conversations, we see progress past cultural preservation. We are recognizing the importance of these knowledge streams in helping us address modern day challenges.

I am encouraged by the number of research studies that are looking to connect past and present knowledge streams. One such study was done in Taita Taveta here in Kenya, and it was done by the Institute of Agricultural Sciences in the tropics. In this study, there was a connection that was made between the flowering of the baobab tree and the humidity that is indicative of a good planting season. Communities in this location have traditionally used the flowering of this tree as a signal of when to plant. A great example of the synergistic relationship that exists between these two knowledge streams.

Thank you for joining me in this conversation. Let us continue to learn from our past as we innovate for our future. Remember what my mom said about soil? It is my hope that the next time you have soil on your hands, you take it as an opportunity to reflect on how connected we are to different knowledge streams in our ecosystems and how that knowledge can be integrated within the communities we work and we live in. As the Swahili saying goes, asiya funzua namamaye hufunzwa nauli mungu, which loosely translates to an encouragement for us to learn from our ancestors.

Climate Change, Agriculture, Indigenous Knowledge, Education, Sustainability, Innovation, Tedx Talks