In Burundi, food insecurity isn’t just about what’s grown. It’s about what moves, and what doesn’t. Harvests still happen, but getting food from field to plate is where things break down. When fuel is scarce and transport costs spike, markets thin out fast. Scarcity isn’t always about production, it’s about who can actually access what’s there.
The constraints run deep. Burundi’s population sits at around 12.3 million, packed into roughly 480 people per square kilometre, the 3rd most densely populated country in Africa. Most depend on farming, approximately 86%, with the average household plot size being just 0.71 hectares in 2018. That leaves very little room for error. A weak harvest doesn’t just reduce income. It cuts directly into what households can eat.
Farming still follows three main seasons, with Seasons A and B, the rainy seasons, producing about 35 and 50% of annual output. But those rhythms are less reliable than they used to be. Inputs are expensive, infrastructure is weak, and markets don’t always function well enough to absorb shocks. By late 2025, around 1.17 million people were facing IPC Phase 3 Crisis-level food insecurity. That figure matters, but it doesn’t capture how people get there; slowly, through a series of constraints rather than a single failure.
Dr Jean-Claude Ntizoyimana, an academic and human rights advocate who serves as a Lecturer of Philosophy at the University of Burundi, while concurrently acting as the Deputy Commissioner General for Human Rights at AJAP, argues that the problem isn’t just agricultural. Burundi has ratified international commitments on economic and social rights, including access to food. The issue is enforcement. When judicial systems lack independence, those rights are difficult to claim in practice. If citizens can’t challenge failures in service delivery or distribution, food insecurity becomes less about supply and more about accountability.
That gap widened after the 2015 political crisis, when a coup was attempted. International partners pulled back, reducing both funding and oversight. In 2022, official development assistance stood at around US$577 million, but resources alone don’t stabilise systems if institutions are weak. The withdrawal of external actors also removed pressure on how those resources are managed.
At the same time, civic space narrowed. Reports of arbitrary arrests and restrictions on civil society have changed how communities respond to economic stress. In many places, food insecurity leads to collective action, pressure on markets, demands for support. In Burundi, those responses carry risk. What might be seen as advocacy elsewhere can be treated as dissent.
Dr Ntizoyimana describes this as a shift in how people cope. Collective strategies give way to private ones. Families rely on neighbours, relatives, small informal exchanges. These networks matter, but they’re fragile. Everyone is facing the same pressures, so support stretches thin.
Demographics add weight to the system. Population growth sits at around 2.5% annually, with a birth rate of 4.9 children per woman, the 8th highest rate globally. Land doesn’t expand to match. Over time, plots are divided further, yields become harder to maintain, and competition intensifies. Food insecurity becomes embedded, not episodic.
Children carry that burden in visible ways More than half of Burundi’s children, 56%, are stunted. That’s not about a single bad season. It reflects sustained gaps in nutrition, healthcare, and access.
Women navigate those gaps daily. They work the land and manage households, yet face restrictions on land rights and finance. When food tightens, they’re the ones who make it stretch.
The system is under added pressure. In October 2025, over 110,000 refugees and asylum seekers arrived from the DRC, increasing demand across already strained local resources.
Dr Ntizoyimana points to a consistent pattern. Whether the issue is civil rights or food access, the state often treats grievances defensively. Claims about shortages or distribution can be framed as challenges to authority. That shapes how resources are allocated and how problems are addressed. Where accountability is limited, inequalities deepen quietly.
Markets don’t collapse; they distort. Fuel scarcity and transport costs make prices unpredictable. Food can exist in the system but remain out of reach. Informal trade steps in, but it rarely benefits the poorest.
What emerges isn’t a sudden crisis, but a steady grind. Families adjust, smaller meals, new income sources, reliance on others. It works, up to a point.
But access is shaped upstream. Governance determines how markets operate, how resources are shared, and whether people can act when systems fall short.
In Burundi, those connections are tight. Food insecurity isn’t just about what is grown. It’s about what people are able to claim, and what they’re not.
Further information and opportunities to engage with organisations working in this area are listed below:
https://smileburundi.org.uk/
https://www.standupandbuild.org/
https://www.loveburundi.org/
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