Empowering women through Shea Parkland restoration

Dano, Ioba province of Burkina Faso - As dawn breaks, the village of Tambiri, in Burkina Faso's Ioba province, is already quite busy. Women like Dabiré Ngalle, head of the Ngongele women's group, start their day with a sense of urgency, shaped by generations of struggle and survival. Dabiré leads her team into the shea groves, which are the main source of income for their families and communities. Yet these emblematic Sahelian trees are now at the heart of a long-running ecological crisis.

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Dabiré Ngalle, president of the Ngongele Women’s Cooperative | The women of Tambiri stand together at the heart of their community, bearing generations of knowledge and responsibility for preserving shea trees.

The shea tree (Vitellaria paradoxa), often called the "tree of life," has long provided shade, food and income throughout West Africa. In Burkina Faso alone, its economic and cultural value is considerable: some 800,000 tons of shea nuts are harvested each year, with women forming the backbone of this supply chain. But these trees are disappearing.

Decades of deforestation, unsustainable farming practices and climate change have decimated the shea tree population. Studies show that drought stress alone has led to seedling mortality rates of up to 40% in some regions. Traditional farming methods, based on slow-growing seeds, are no longer sufficient.

"Every tree we lose is a piece of our history that is disappearing", Dabiré says in a measured but determined voice.

The shea tree is more than a commodity; it's a key species in the Sahel's fragile ecosystem. For many rural women, it provides up to 80 percent of their household income. The production of shea butter, valued worldwide for its cosmetic and therapeutic properties, is both a livelihood and a heritage. But the decline of shea plantations has forced women to adapt in ways that strain their already precarious livelihoods.

In Niemi, a neighboring village to Tambiri, memories of the abundance of shea trees are fading. "When I was young, shea trees were everywhere," recalls one woman. "Now the groves are like scattered islands, shrinking every year.

The challenges women face go beyond the environmental. In Tambiri and beyond, traditional land tenure practices mean that women often have no guaranteed rights to the land on which they depend. This legal insecurity is a major obstacle to long-term investment in agroforestry or soil restoration.

If my husband dies, my farm will be taken over by my in-laws," explains one woman. Her story is repeated throughout the region, where patriarchal norms limit women's autonomy in land-use decisions. Advocacy for land reform has gained momentum, with local leaders and NGOs pushing for policies that grant women ownership or long-term leases, but progress remains slow.

Despite the challenges, new initiatives are offering a glimmer of hope. The Global Shea Alliance (GSA), in partnership with local NGOs and international bodies like the UNCCD are introducing regenerative agroforestry practices. These methods aim to balance ecological restoration with economic resilience.

"We used to plant trees without fully understanding how to take care of them," admits a participant in a training program in Niemi. "Now we know how to take care of the seedlings, so they survive."

The programs also provide boreholes, which have reduced the backbreaking work of fetching water, and tricycles, which streamline the transportation of heavy shea nuts. These interventions are modest but meaningful, allowing women to reclaim time and energy for other tasks.

The GSA's latest call to action - to restore four million hectares of Sahel parkland by 2030 - is ambitious. This restoration effort dovetails with the Great Green Wall Initiative, a broader strategy to address land degradation across the Sahel. But such large-scale projects often face funding gaps and logistical hurdles.

"It's not just about planting trees," emphasizes Gilles Amadou Ouedraogo, a UNCCD program officer. "It's about restoring ecosystems, empowering women, and ensuring the long-term viability of these landscapes."

As daylight fades in Tambiri, Dabiré reflects on the challenges ahead. For her and the women of the Ngongele cooperative, the struggle is personal and generational. Each tree they plant is a seed of hope, an act of quiet defiance against the forces eroding their world.

"We're not just planting trees; we're panting for the survival of our children and their children," she says. Her words convey the quiet resilience of a community determined to preserve not just a species, but an entire way of life.

The future of shea - and the millions who depend on it - will depend on a delicate balance of politics, environmental stewardship and the enduring determination of women like Dabiré.