Deep in Noco, Rewa, where the land offers both abundance and challenge, Joseva Tuisolo stood on his farm, gazing at the soil that had once turned against him but is now sustaining him.

The tides had risen, creeping into the fields and overtaking his crops. The unforgiving land, shaped by saltwater intrusion and poor drainage, had turned months of labor into an uncertain battle.

He had poured his efforts into taro, planting ten thousand seedlings with hope, only to watch all but a fraction fade into the depths of the water.

Melons, meant to bring stability, instead turned to waste. Ginger, provided by the Ministry of Agriculture as part of its assistance to farmers, faced challenges in establishing itself in the unique soil conditions of Noco but each failure carved itself into his resolve.

"Every time something failed, I asked myself, what now?" Joseva recalls, his voice carrying the weight of seasons spent battling the land.

"I could have walked away. But this land is home. It’s part of me."

So he stayed, listened, and studied the rhythm of the soil, the way water shaped the ground, and how the seasons whispered clues about what could survive there. He stopped trying to force the land to comply.

Instead, he asked himself, what does the land want to grow?

That was when everything changed.

Taro had failed. Melons had failed. Ginger had failed. But deep in the soil, where stubborn roots refused to let go, Green Pearl guava flourished.

Where other crops drowned, dragon fruit climbed upward, defying gravity. Where the floods stole everything else, Duruka stood strong.

For the first time, the land wasn’t resisting him; it was responding.

"It felt like the land finally spoke back," he smiled.

His first dragon fruit harvest arrived, vibrant and full of promise. He took it to the Suva market, his confidence wavering. Would people even care about this unfamiliar fruit?

"I thought no one would buy it. But even the kids—they cried for it and that was the confirmation I  needed.”

Every Friday, his farm now yields guava, bringing steady income. His dragon fruit sells out within hours. His duruka thrives, bearing fruit multiple times a year.

Yet, more than profits, Joseva sees something greater unfolding—a future for those who doubt that farming could ever sustain them.

"The land gives us everything we need. It took me years to understand that. This soil is still here even when jobs disappear and life feels uncertain. It will provide if we let it."

Through quiet persistence, Joseva did not just cultivate crops. He cultivated hope for himself, for his community, for every farmer standing at the edge of doubt, wondering if their land is worth the fight.

“To the farmers of Rewa, this land can still provide; it may not give us everything, but it will give us something. The key is choosing crops that can withstand the soil's rhythm—the salt-intruded fields and the rising tides,” he said.

“Dragon fruit flourishes here, guava bears steady fruit, and duruka stands unshaken. These are the crops that fight alongside us, that refuse to be washed away,” he said with a smile.

“So I urge you, don’t give up on your land, it has its wisdom, work with it, not against it. When we stop fighting the soil and start understanding it, we will see that the future of farming in Rewa is still alive."

The Ministry of Agriculture and Waterways has also recognized the challenges in Rewa’s flood-prone farmlands, working on solutions such as salt-tolerant crops and drainage improvements.

Joseva Tuisolo walks his land with a quiet certainty. It is no longer a battle—it is an understanding. The soil may challenge him, but it will also sustain him.

His journey is not just about farming, it is about listening, adapting and trusting that even in adversity the land holds answers.

He hopes his story will spark an interest amongst youths in the province that feel uncertain about farming for a living.

ENDS

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