It was a jolting ride off the main highway—our tires rattling over a punishing, rocky road. But the rough path led to a place of quiet transformation, the women’s co-op known as Tulares de Valencia. There, under the hot Central American sun, we were greeted with beaming smiles and open arms.
Waiting for us were women from five different cooperatives—each face telling a story of hardship, resilience, and fierce determination. The women of Tulares had also prepared a vibrant display of their farm produce: mangoes, papayas, guayabas, limes —a colorful testament to their hard-won success.
Tomasa, the co-op’s president, stepped forward to share their story. Twenty years ago, these women had nothing. No land. No income. No reliable way to feed their children. But despair did not define them. Instead, 40 families came together and committed to saving a quarter of their meagre earnings—pennies scraped together with vision and hope.
With help from the Catholic Church, they obtained a plot of land. But it was land in name only—barren, poisoned by chemicals, overrun with weeds. Everything they planted failed. Yet they did not surrender.
Their breakthrough came when they partnered with Kenoli’s partner, FECORACEN, a local organization that helped them learn how to restore the soil. The women began planting fruit trees—mango, papaya, guayaba, lime, coconut. They even learned to manage beehives. At first, they were terrified of the bees. Now, they harvest and sell honey with pride.
Make no mistake—this is not easy work. The sun is unrelenting. The poverty is real. The climate is unpredictable. But these women are unstoppable. Their grit and solidarity have transformed their lives, the land, and their futures.
As we walked their fields—now lush with fruit and buzzing with life—we couldn’t help but be in awe. Their success is a powerful reminder: poverty does not mean powerlessness.
Before we left, the women shared fresh coconut milk with us and they sang songs.
These women are more than farmers. They are visionaries. They are leaders. They are proof that even on the most inhospitable ground, hope can take root—and bloom. They will remain in our hearts long after we have returned to Canada.