by John Bliss
In an open field in Maine, rows of crops are growing, which look only vaguely familiar to most Maine gardeners. They would recognise the eggplant, the pumpkins, and certainly the pigweed towering over the field edges. But other crops would require closer inspection to recognise: hibiscus, cowpeas, and okra. More confusion arises as the passerby observes the cultivation practices: the pumpkin grown for its leaves; the corn left past its sweet phase but harvested before the flint-dry stage; and that pigweed is not a weed but a staple green (amaranth) harvested daily in large bundles.
This is the 3-acre production garden of Omasombo Kutuka and Poya Ndjadi, refugees from Eastern Congo who have been farming in their new home state of Maine for the past decade. I am walking out into their field in Wales, Maine, to wish them well. It is a kind of send-off: they had been growing at my farm for the past five years, building their market, learning to use irrigation and season-extending techniques, and other new skills necessary to thrive in Maine as vegetable farmers. I am about the same age as Omasombo, and we have been each other’s teachers since 2017, when a local organic farming organization, MOFGA, connected us in a mentorship program for new farmers.
Maine began to attract refugees from the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) in the mid-2010s for its affordable housing and low crime rates. But, as I have learned, social media networks have been the main drivers of population growth here. Viral videos extolling the virtues of Maine can be shared quickly and viewed countless times worldwide. Omasombo and other growers still rely on WhatsApp and Facebook to connect with customers in their community. With a single post, Omasombo can expect to sell over 1000 pounds of eggplant, sometimes to customers who show up at his field in a minivan, waiting to be piled high with fresh produce.
Omasombo has demonstrated skills I had little experience with, such as seed selection and saving. He allows his amaranth to produce large quantities of seed, continuing a landrace selection process that slowly edges the variety closer to his market and cultivation needs. I have also seen him nearly work his entire farm with a single hoe, whereas my shed has over a dozen “specialty” tools designed for different stages of weeds or types of crops.
When his operation was located on my land, a visit to his field regularly filled me with a fresh perspective and inspiration. I offered him land in 2020 as COVID reduced my flower farming business (no big weddings!), but boosted his African vegetable markets. I also offered him my tractor services and training in field-related techniques, all of which earned me income in a difficult year. Since then, I have leaned into engaging with the immigrant community. Six acres are now dedicated to other immigrant farmers of varying levels of experience.
One farmer, Amos Kazadi, is new to farming. Together, we re-homed a secondhand greenhouse to his site and established a half-acre of fast-growing amaranth greens. Amos planted and harvested in several successive plantings, testing the crop’s seasonal limitations. While I taught him some field techniques, such as applying mulch and organic fertilizers to our sandy soil, he relied on his mother, who was still in the DRC, for other skills. They talked over video chat in the field about the varietal differences in African nightshade or the best stages to harvest roselle hibiscus – a crop also known as sorrel because of its sour taste. Amos and I are learning together much of the time, but I am a true novice when it comes to marketing, Congolese-style.
As with Omasombo, Amos has a huge market at his fingertips. His customers are hyper-networked in a web of social relationships, which is less common in my predominantly white American middle-class community. In the dynamic population of upwardly mobile but low-income immigrants, favors and obligations bind folks together in a culture of utter generosity and fierce bargaining skills. They have a yearning for fresh, culturally appropriate foods. Yet, language and social barriers insulate the community from mainstream consumerism, allowing a farmer like Amos to become a hub of commerce.
Omasombo and Poya now own their farm and are making investments to build generational wealth. Amos is just beginning his business, relying on friends and family for their help. The kind of immigration I have witnessed in Maine is a creative fermentation that leads to business opportunities, innovation, and expressions of kindness. I have also observed some fascinating cultural mores in the Central African diaspora, from linguistic subtleties to nose-to-tail goat slaughtering. Small-scale food production is naturally an invitation to solidarity despite the political headwinds in the United States. It continues to be my honor to partner with immigrant farmers in producing food for their communities.
By John Bliss Farms in Scarborough, Maine, at Broadturn Farm.
Please note: Although Amos and Omasombo have both legally immigrated to the U.S. and are both full citizens, due to their central role in their communities and the campaign of intimidation waged by the federal administration, we have not to share photos of them, in order to conceal their identities.
About John Bliss and Broadturn Farm
John Bliss works with dedicated staff in Scarborough Maine at Broadturn Farm. John and his wife started farming in 2001, gaining experience in organic vegetable production, raising livestock, perennial gardens, and currently work in flower production. John has participated globally in agricultural education projects most extensively with USAID’s Farmer to Farmer program which sent him to Nepal (pictured above) several African countries as well as South America. He has been training new farmers in Maine since 2010.
Crop names reflect common market usage rather than direct translation; many of these plants are known by multiple regional names across Central Africa.
Common Crops Grown by Central African Immigrant Farmers
| Western / International name | Botanical name | Kikongo / Lingala (common market usage) |
| African eggplant (fruit) | Solanum aethiopicum (Gilo-type) | Lingala: Ngai-ngai / NdrowaKikongo: Ntumba |
| African eggplant (leafy) | Solanum aethiopicum (Shum-type) | Lingala: Ngai-ngai Kikongo: Ntumba ya matiti |
| African nightshade | Solanum scabrum | Lingala: NsambalaKikongo: Nsinsani |
| Amaranth (leafy greens) | Amaranthus spp. | Lingala: Biteku-tekuKikongo: Nsansi |
| Roselle hibiscus (also “sorrel”) | Hibiscus sabdariffa | Lingala: FolereKikongo: Nsingila |
| Jute mallow | Corchorus olitorius | Lingala: Kongo bololoKikongo: Bololo |
| Cassava (root) | Manihot esculenta | Lingala: ManiocKikongo: Madioka |
| Cassava leaves | Manihot esculenta | Lingala: PonduKikongo: Madioka ma matiti |
| Sweet potato | Ipomoea batatas | Lingala: Lipata (pl. mapata)Kikongo: Dipata / Patata |
| Onion | Allium cepa | Lingala: Oignon (loanword)Kikongo: Oniɔ̃ / Oignon |
| Garlic | Allium sativum | Lingala: Ail (loanword)Kikongo: Ail |