Since childhood, Loveness Bhitoni has collected baobab fruits from the towering trees surrounding her home in Zimbabwe. For years, the fruit added a welcome variety to her family’s meals of corn and millet, but today, it is much more than just food — it has become her main source of survival.
Climate change has had devastating effects on crops across rural Zimbabwe. Prolonged droughts have decimated the staple corn and millet crops that Bhitoni’s family once relied on. In response to these environmental challenges, the global demand for baobab fruit, celebrated for its health benefits, has soared, presenting new economic opportunities for those living in areas rich with baobab trees.
Bhitoni wakes before sunrise to start her day of foraging. Armed with little more than determination, she walks barefoot through the hot, thorn-covered terrain, often risking encounters with wild animals. With each journey, she hopes to collect as much fruit as possible from the centuries-old trees that dot the landscape. The fruit, enclosed in hard shells, is sold at minimal prices to middlemen or food processing companies.
What was once a simple spice or occasional snack is now a key component of Bhitoni’s daily struggle for survival. “We didn’t harvest any crops this year,” she says. “We are only able to survive because of the money from baobab fruits. We can only afford corn and salt. Cooking oil is a luxury because the money isn’t enough. Sometimes I spend a whole month without buying soap. I can’t even think of paying school fees or buying clothes for my children.”
In recent years, the global market for baobab products has grown rapidly, with consumers in countries like the United States, China, and across Europe recognizing the fruit’s potential as a health food. As a result, rural communities in Africa, where baobab trees are abundant, have become critical suppliers. Zimbabwe alone is home to about five million baobab trees, according to Zimtrade, a government export agency.
However, for people like Bhitoni, the reality is grim. Despite the growing demand, she and other baobab pickers see little profit from their hard labor. The fruit is gathered in buckets and sacks, but the compensation they receive is minimal. “The fruit is in demand, but the trees didn’t produce much this year,” she says. “Sometimes I come back home without even filling a single sack. Prices are extremely low. Buyers sometimes offer between 50 cents and a dollar for a gallon (5kg bucket). I need five sacks to buy just a 10kg packet of cornmeal.”
The baobab, also known as the “tree of life,” is native to Africa and can be found in countries stretching from South Africa to Kenya to Senegal. In Zimbabwe, the trees are not cultivated but foraged, as it takes more than 20 years for them to start producing fruit. As a result, thousands of people like Bhitoni have entered the industry, relying on the trees’ seasonal bounty to provide for their families.
Yet, middlemen and buyers take advantage of the pickers’ vulnerability, especially during times of severe drought. Some offer to trade cornmeal for baobab fruits, knowing that hunger will force desperate families to accept the unfavorable terms. According to Bhitoni, middlemen sometimes request seven 20-liter buckets of baobab fruit in exchange for just a small amount of cornmeal.
Local leaders have called for more fairness in pricing. “When the buyers come to take our product, they have their own gazetted prices,” says Kingstone Shero, the local councillor. “But what I think they should do is meet and consult us, the local leadership, and agree on pricing. People have no choice because they have nothing. The buyers are imposing prices on us, and we don’t have the capacity to resist because of hunger.”
A processing plant in Zimbabwe demonstrates the potential for baobab products. At the plant, the fruit’s pulp is separated from the seeds, each destined for different uses. The shells are not wasted either — they are processed into biochar, an ash distributed to farmers as an organic compost to improve soil fertility. This circular use of the entire fruit shows the industry’s value, but rural residents, like Bhitoni, rarely see the benefits.
She continues her daily routine, spending up to eight hours under the hot sun, walking long distances to reach baobab trees that have yet to be harvested. The trees near her homestead have been exhausted, forcing her to venture farther into the wilderness. Some of her fellow pickers are children, and all of them lack negotiating power, leaving them at the mercy of the buyers.
According to Prosper Chitambara, a development economist in Harare, the situation reflects the need for a commodity exchange to ensure fair pricing. “In most countries, they have established a commodity exchange,” Chitambara explains. “That helps ensure there’s a fair valuation of commodities, so that the ordinary farmer, or the women and children who are collecting baobabs, don’t get short-changed. Currently, the buyers have greater leverage because there’s no market to determine the price of baobabs.”
Zimtrade has recognized the issue and is exploring ways to partner with rural women to set up local processing plants. This could help communities like Bhitoni’s gain more control over their product and improve their earnings.
As Bhitoni continues her search for baobab fruit, she carefully selects only the ripest, leaving the smaller ones for the baboons and elephants that share her landscape. This age-old tradition persists, even as the world around her and the baobab changes rapidly.
