Expanding risk protection for women smallholder farmers
In Tanzania’s drylands, farming is uncertain. For one woman, insurance is changing what that means.

Hilda Madeje has farmed sorghum for most of her life. Now 53, she supports her household from the land she cultivates in central Tanzania, where rainfall is unreliable and a single failed season can undo months of work.
Sorghum is a familiar crop across the country’s semi-arid regions. It feeds households, supports livestock, and is used in local brewing. In places like Dodoma, Singida and Tabora, it is widely grown, often by smallholder farmers working with limited resources and little margin for risk.
Yet productivity has long remained low. Most farmers rely on local sorghum varieties, which are more affordable and readily available, while improved varieties remain costly and difficult to access. Limited commercial demand further reduces incentives to invest in improved crop management or adopt higher-yielding seeds. As a result, sorghum yields have remained largely stagnant.
Hilda knows this reality well. For years, she harvested around three sacks of sorghum per acre using traditional methods. “We worked hard,” she says, “but the results were always small.”
That began to shift when a contract farming arrangement reached her village. Farmers were introduced to improved seeds, basic agronomic practices, and, less commonly, crop insurance. The initiative, supported through a partnership between an agribusiness company and a development programme, aimed to address both productivity and risk.
Hilda adopted the new approach. In her first season, despite drought conditions, her harvest increased to around 10 sacks per acre. It was a visible improvement, but not a guarantee. Farming, she says, still depends on the rains.
That uncertainty became clear the following year, when heavy rains caused flooding that destroyed part of her crop. About one acre was lost. In the past, such a loss would have meant starting again, with little to fall back on.


If something happens now,” she says, “I know I will not lose everything.”
This time was different. Because her crops were insured, the damage was assessed and she received compensation covering part of the expected harvest. It did not remove the loss entirely, but it reduced the immediate financial impact.
For farmers like Hilda, who have limited savings or access to credit, this kind of protection can make the difference between continuing production and scaling back.
The insurance scheme was introduced as a pilot, with farmers paying a relatively small premium per acre. Uptake was gradual, but interest grew as farmers began to see payouts during both drought and flood seasons.
With reduced exposure to loss, Hilda expanded her cultivated land from three to seven acres. Even so, her decisions remain cautious. Inputs are still costly, and rainfall remains unpredictable.
Access to crop insurance is still limited for most smallholder farmers in Tanzania, and particularly for women, who often face additional barriers in accessing information, finance, and services. Expanding such schemes will require more than availability; it will depend on affordability, trust, and alignment with how farmers already manage risk.
Hilda does not describe her situation as secure. Farming, she says, is still uncertain. But it is no longer as fragile as it once was.