July 2025, Aminata Diallo, Speech for the 2nd UN Food Systems Summit Stocktake (UNFSS+4)

Thank you, Chair, and greetings to all gathered here.
My name is Aminata Diallo. I am from the Kel tamasheq and Fullani community in Mali, and I speak as part of the Indigenous Peoples Coalition, a youth member of the Tin Hinan Association and as a member of the global Ărramăt Project under pathway 4 social justice and reconciliation.
Today, I wish to address not only from a platform, but from memory. From the land. From the plate. From what has been passed down, and what is at risk of being lost.
Food is not just a system to be transformed; it is a way of life to be protected, respected, and restored.
Growing up, I remember sitting with my family around a single plate, eating together in a circle. That circle wasn’t just about food; it was a way of being. It meant unity, equality, and gratitude. It symbolised our relationship with one another and with the land.
Food was not only eaten, but it was also shared, grown together, harvested with prayer, and received with humility.
These practices are not just traditions; they are technologies of care. They are mental health. They are environmental protection. They are what keep us alive, not just in body, but in spirit. But today, those ways of life are being fractured.
In the Sahel, like in some other Indigenous territories, we are seeing how conflict, climate change, and land grabs turn food into a weapon, as in the extremely inhumane case of what is going on currently in occupied Palestine.
And conflict, here, does not only mean war. It also means a clash of worldviews, a cosmovision conflict.
Where we see food as a sacred gift, it could also be seen as a commodity or worse, a means to control, punish, or enslave.
Where we move with the seasons, the dominant system imposes fixed borders and export demands.
Where our food systems are built on reciprocity and care, dominant models are extractive and linear.
This too is violence, slower, but deeply corrosive.
Youth are disconnected from ancestral knowledge. Elders are dying without passing it on.
Land is being taken. And so is the right to nourish ourselves in our way.
In response, we at the Ărramăt Project work across more than 70 Indigenous communities and 150 partner organisations on six continents.
We support seed sovereignty, protect sacred food spaces, revive Indigenous food governance, and connect youth and Elders in co-creating food futures rooted in freedom.Our work is grounded in Indigenous law, in spiritual practice, and in practical, ancestral knowledge from the soil to the sky.
We’re not offering a romantic past. We’re offering remembrance, presence, hope and grounded alternatives for the future.
And here’s what we want our partners to know:
We are not asking to be included. We are offering leadership. We are bringing solutions.
We manage 80% of the world’s biodiversity.
We steward lands that are the lungs and the pantry of the planet.
We hold knowledge systems that are ecological, ethical, and intergenerational.
That is the added value of Indigenous Peoples:
We don’t just produce food. We produce balance.
UNFSS+4 is a stocktake. A moment to look in the mirror and ask: Are we truly building just and sustainable food systems? Or are we repeating extractive patterns in a new language?
Here’s how we believe real collaboration should look:
First, co-creation, Indigenous Peoples must be involved from the start, not invited in as a box to tick.
Second, long-term, flexible funding for Indigenous-led initiatives, research, and community priorities not short-term projects.
Third, legal and territorial protection, because without land, there is no food.
Fourth, cultural and spiritual recognition. Food is not just about nutrition; it is also about identity, ceremony, and peace.
And, collective governance. Indigenous legal systems must be respected alongside national and international ones.
To our allies here governments, donors, institutions, we say:
Don’t partner with us for optics. Walk with us in trust.
Share risk. Share power. Share time.
Food, like water, is a divine gift.
Indigenous Peoples remind us that what is good and pure is not what is extracted but what is honoured, respected, and shared.
So this is not just a speech.
It is an invitation to reclaim food as a path to justice.
To restore dignity to those most excluded.
And to remember that food is not a project. It is life. It is a right.
It is a Future we must and can build together.
Thank you.