BY NDUGU ABISAI (Nation Media)

On any given day, Richard and his team of about 70 men and women collect between 200 – 400 kilos of food waste from local markets such as cabbage stalks, rotting mangoes and discarded grain and convert it into nutrient-rich organic fertiliser.

If you have just had a banana, there is a good chance that you don’t have to think of where the peel ends up. Your business ends with the last bite. Organic waste for many people is not a ready inconvenience since it is not talked about as much as plastics and other dry waste material. For Richard Mwangi, however, organic waste is profitable—not as an afterthought, but the foundation through which a quiet revolution is happening.

In a modest corner of Ruiru, Kiambu County, where the air is laced with the aroma of possibility and fermented banana peels, we meet a group of dedicated men and women who trade in waste, transform it into a product and distribute it to farmers across the country. Organic Fields Limited isn’t your usual agro-venture, it is a key player in Kenya’s agricultural value chain, it feeds the very farms that feed the nation. “Give me any food waste,” Richard says with a smile, “and I’ll give you fertiliser that brings your soil back to life.”

It’s not just talk. On any given day, Richard and his team of about 70 men and women, collect between 200 – 400 kilograms of food waste from local markets—think cabbage stalks, rotting mangoes, discarded grain — and convert it into nutrient-rich organic fertiliser. This waste, over time, yields about 20 tonnes of fertiliser daily.

Like most of Kenya’s agricultural entrepreneurs, Richard’s idea was born from pain: soil acidity, declining productivity, and smallholder farmers caught in the toxic dependency loop of synthetic fertilisers.

“As a trained agricultural scientist, I saw firsthand what chemical inputs were doing to our soils. Yields were dropping. Costs were going up. Farmers were desperate,” he recalls.

So, in 2018, he rolled up his sleeves, partnered with waste collectors in Kiambu and Nairobi, and began experimenting in his backyard. The idea was simple but radical: use urban food waste to heal rural soils. Fast forward to 2025, and Organic Fields Limited has a processing facility in Ruiru, with additional sites in Tatu City for waste collection and Mwea for producing biochar. Biochar is a crucial component in fertiliser production. The company serves hundreds of farmers across Kenya, aligning its work with Kenya’s Vision 2030 and the African Union’s aspirations for sustainable agriculture. But more than that, it speaks to a deep hunger in the market: the return to organic fertiliser.

Walking through the facility feels like stepping into a different kind of factory—one where banana peels are gold and food waste is sacred. There are heaps of decomposing waste, neat piles of sieved compost, and an unmistakable energy of purpose. “We use a controlled system where food waste is decomposed and then enriched with mineral additives to ensure it meets specific soil needs,” explains Richard. The result? Hygrow Organic Fertilizer, certified and tested by the Kenya Bureau of Standards, in collaboration with Kenya Agricultural and Livestock Research Organization, and the University of Nairobi. It is packed with nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, micronutrients—and zero chemical residue. Unlike chemical fertilisers that damage soil structure, Hygrow Organic Fertiliser improves it.

“Our fertiliser boosts soil biology, improves moisture retention, and enhances microbial activity,” he says. Richard’s business model is inclusive. They target smallholder farmers—those growing coffee in Kirinyaga, avocados in Murang’a, tea in Kericho, and macadamia in Meru. Most are women and youth who often get left out of the agri-inputs value chain. “We’ve trained over 1,200 farmers on the use of organic fertilisers and agroecology practices,” Richard says. The company doesn’t just sell fertiliser—it offers training on composting, soil testing, and sustainable crop planning. In Kenya, where over 70 percent of the population relies on agriculture for a living, smallholder farmers are the unsung heroes. Yet, they are the most vulnerable when synthetic fertiliser prices rise or climate shocks hit. Hygrow Organic Fertiliser is comparatively more affordable than synthetic fertilizers, a 10-kilogram bag costs Sh700, a 25-kilogram bag goes for Sh1,500, while a 50-kilogram bag costs Sh2,500.

The Power of partnership

What makes the company’s model even more replicable is its partnership ecosystem. The company works closely with Kenya Climate Innovation Center – supporting product development and market linkages. Technical institutions like Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology offer research insights on soil compatibility and microbial efficiency. “These partnerships are why we can punch above our weight,” says Richard. Through these collaborations, the company is exploring innovations like crop-specific organic fertilisers. “Think of this as a fertiliser uniquely produced to cater to a specific crops’ needs,” He adds.

From a business lens, the enterprise is a textbook case of how green businesses can be both impactful and profitable. Their expansion strategy is cautious but deliberate. “We’re not in a hurry to open multiple branches,” says Richard, “Instead, we’re partnering with local distributors and agrovets to reach remote farmers.”

Richard’s work isn’t just about soil. It’s about systems. His company is part of a broader push to relocalise food systems, reduce waste, and restore degraded lands. “Kenya wastes over 5 million tonnes of food every year, most of which ends up in dumpsites or causes methane pollution,” Richard notes, “Yet this waste can feed soils, restore ecosystems, and build community wealth.”

He dreams of a future where every town has a decentralised composting hub, where organic waste is a community asset, not a nuisance. It’s an agroecological vision, one that respects nature’s cycles, honours traditional farming wisdom, and reimagines urban markets as players in food production—not just consumption. But perhaps what stands out most about this business is its deep drive for positive life and environmental impact. Richard lights up when he shares testimonials from farmers whose soils have bounced back. “We don’t just sell fertiliser. We sell hope,” he says.

At a time when agribusinesses and waste management enterprises are grappling with shrinking markets, inflation, and climate uncertainty, this is a reminder that sometimes the best business models are found in forgotten corners—like a pile of food waste at the famous Gikomba Market. While Robert did not invent composting, he is proving that when done right, it can change not just soil health, but livelihoods, ecosystems, and economies.