Nestled in Uganda’s Kamwanyi village on the lush western slopes of Mount Elgon, Francis Gidegi’s three-acre farm benefits from fertile soils, cool mountain air, and steady rains. The volcano’s higher reaches are protected as a national park, but its lower slopes sustain more than 500,000 people. Every decision Gidegi makes is deliberate. The 46-year-old delights in naming the deep-rooted indigenous trees—like jackfruit, avocado, and Cordia africana—that he plants to bind the soil. He also grows perennial crops, like robusta coffee, that stabilize the land alongside short-term crops like onions and maize. He explains that the trenches and contours he’s carved into the hillside slow water flow and prevent erosion.
It’s not the quickest or easiest way to produce crops, but for Gidegi, these efforts are necessary to safeguard his family of 15 in a landscape that offers both abundance and deadly risks. “Working like this is the only way we can stay,” he says. “Otherwise, it is too dangerous.” In November 2024, heavy rainfall triggered a series of landslides that tore through villages in the mountains of Bulambuli district, including Kamwanyi, where torrents of mud and rock swept everything from their path, displacing hundreds, destroying roads, and leaving behind deep crevasses where homes once stood. At least 28 people died, including two of Gidegi’s brothers.
Landslides have long plagued the mountain, but they’ve grown more frequent and destructive in the last two decades as a burgeoning population alters the landscape and heavy rains, which saturate soil and loosen rocks, intensify. Hillsides once anchored by forests have been cleared for timber and housing, and fast-growing crops like maize and beans have left the soil degraded and unstable. A 2025 study found that the Mount Elgon biosphere reserve’s transition zone, where human activity is permitted, has experienced a 76.7 percent decline in forest cover. As experts warn that landslides in the mountains of Uganda are occurring more often and are deadlier, farming these slopes becomes increasingly precarious. But rather than abandon their homes and livelihoods, many local farmers are urgently turning to new methods to build resilience against future disasters. These practices aim not only to reduce the risk of destructive landslides but also to restore the soil before creeping degradation strips it of its ability to grow food.
As Gidegi says, “Adapting is better than evacuating.” In 2017, a local cooperative called MEACCE began teaching Mount Elgon farmers the techniques of agroforestry, a land-management system in which trees are managed together with agricultural crops and animals. When well-designed, agroforestry increases productivity, reduces soil erosion, improves water conservation, and supports food security and livelihoods. Though difficult to quantify precisely, agroforestry is widespread—especially in Southeast Asia and Central and South America—and it is recognized globally for its role in climate adaptation, carbon storage, and biodiversity conservation.
Gidegi was aware of MEACCE’s methods but had continued to rely on farming practices such as monocropping that cause erosion and deplete soil fertility. The devastation of November 2024 marked a turning point for him. That month, he and his family were among hundreds of people resettled to a flat, crowded area at the foot of Mount Elgon. The hot weather and unfamiliar soil were a stark contrast to the rich highland his family had cultivated for generations. In April, he returned to Kamwanyi to start over again. But this time, his farming focused on healing the land, not harming it.
Gidegi began by planting a mixture of perennial crops and indigenous trees and digging trenches to divert stormwater. “Before, we were cutting down trees, using chemicals, and burning bush,” Gidegi says. “But now we have stopped that.” Following a spate of lethal landslides, farmers like Gidegi across Mount Elgon are transforming their farms with support from a growing network of initiatives backed by cultural institutions, NGOs, and the United Nations. But this isn’t just a fringe group of well-meaning farmers. Thousands of residents have been trained in agroforestry techniques that improve soil health and water retention; millions of native tree seedlings have been planted.
Rogers Fungo, a project officer at MEACCE, said landslides laid bare the dangers of continuing harmful farming practices and often accelerated community participation. “People lost their lives, properties, crops, animals,” he said. “They saw the negative impact, and they understood they could make a difference.” Simon Nabwita, 42, lost his father in the November landslides but chose to stay on the mountain. Like Gidegi, Nabwita has since received