From the road, the small farm appears much like its neighbors: a weathered red barn, a neatly kept yard, and a few well-worn vehicles resting in the gravel driveway. But step closer, and you’ll notice something different. Here, amidst the rolling fields east of the Mississippi River, vibrant fabrics sway in the breeze as elegant African women tend to crops unfamiliar to the Midwestern eye.
Unlike the rigid rows of corn and soybeans that define American agriculture, this farm bursts with an intentional, organic chaos—a patchwork of greens spreading freely, defying the expected order. A closer inspection sparks curiosity: What exactly are they growing?
A Taste of Home
Chinsaga. Rinagu. Egesare. The names of these East African greens roll off the tongues of Albert and Damaris Nyamari like a cherished melody. For this Kenyan couple, these crops are not just food; they are cultural staples—comforting and essential, much like hamburgers to Americans.
To the untrained eye, the plants may seem indistinguishable from weeds. But watch as the women swiftly harvest finger-sized leaves, filling paper bags with skillful ease. Albert hands over a handful of chinsaga. Its slightly bitter, chewy leaves are typically boiled until tender, then sautéed with onions and tomatoes—because, as Damaris jokes, “For Kenyans, nothing is cooked unless it has tomatoes.”
Rinagu, a teardrop-shaped green similar to basil, is the most versatile of the trio. “It’s tastier, more tender,” Damaris explains. “You can make so many recipes with it.” Then there’s egesare, its diamond-shaped leaves adding a sweet note to soups and stews. Its field is the most striking—lush green domes forming a rippling, unstructured carpet, a stark contrast to the rigid rows of American farms.
Farming for the Diaspora
The Twin Cities are home to an estimated 7,000 to 10,000 Kenyans, far from their homeland but longing for familiar flavors. While many grow small garden plots, no one in the area cultivates these beloved crops at the scale of the Nyamaris. Their farm doesn’t operate through traditional farmers’ markets or CSA subscriptions. Instead, word-of-mouth fuels their business, with more than 100 eager customers—many on a waiting list.
Beyond greens, they grow emboga, a variety of spinach, and omwongo, dark green pumpkins prized for their sweet seeds and nutritious leaves. The white sweet potato, amarabwoni, is set to become their next big crop—favored by East Africans for its crunchy root and by West Africans and Asians for its tender leaves.
Seeds were initially sourced from a specialized California supplier, but Albert has since expanded his inventory creatively—scouting Kenyan gardeners’ community plots in Minneapolis, carefully gathering seeds with their blessing.
A Partnership Rooted in Trust
This unique farm is a partnership between the Nyamaris and Marge Lorayne, who own the land. Their connection began when Albert, working as a hospice caregiver, tended to Marge’s dying son. In his final days, her son asked Marge to offer Albert a piece of their underused Wisconsin farmland—a wish she honored with an open heart.
Cultural differences were expected, but the families embraced them with laughter. Their first major bonding moment? Marge and her late partner, Helen, came home from a party one night to find 15 Kenyans in their kitchen, expertly carving a goat on the table. “What else could we do but join in?” Marge recalls. “It was fabulous. There was singing, dancing, and they wouldn’t let us sleep without eating.”
Albert has expanded the farm each season three years later, tilling more land and growing new crops. While he manages the planning, plowing, and planting, harvesting is strictly women’s work. “Men are too slow,” Damaris laughs. “They don’t have the patience to pick one leaf at a time.”
Many of the harvesters are mothers of Damaris’s friends who are visiting from Kenya. Used to working the land daily, they find joy in farming—far more fulfilling than watching TV.
Looking to the Future
Juggling farming with their careers and family life is no small feat. Albert, 34, grew up farming and now runs his own patient transport business, Kastone Mobility Services. Damaris, 32, works as a nurse while pursuing an advanced nursing degree.
Despite the 90-minute drive from their Brooklyn Park home, the farm remains their sanctuary. “It feels like 10 minutes to me now,” Albert jokes. Their dream? To one day move closer to the land and expand their business, growing not just crops but a lasting legacy.
“I don’t want to let this opportunity pass me by,” Albert says. “My blood is always at the farm.”
