After a laboratory mishap involving a consumer drone, a malfunctioning smartphone app and an impressive puff of smoke, Annebelle and Phil wake up at the controls of a two-seater quadcopter, flying over a strange land. That land is the world in 2045…
Last week we were flying high above the southern coast of Ghana.
JCN, our onboard AI, had been sulking since Lagos. It turns out that with the last quadcopter firmware update, Annebelle had forgotten to encrypt the flight records. It means we might have blown our cover as accidental time travellers in the future of food. For the time being, we needed to keep a low profile and not do anything suspicious.
“Those look interesting,” Annebelle said, noticing a pattern of water-filled tanks below us. “Where are we?”
JCN sighed: how could the humans not know?
“These are the outskirts of Accra, and those are aquaponic systems,” replied JCN, witheringly.
“Ohh, aquaponics!” exclaimed Annebelle. “That’s a kind of circular farming system, isn’t it?”
“Indeed it is,” continued JCN. “It merges fish production with soilless crop production, increasing resource use efficiency and minimising waste. You can tell from all the sky traffic that Accra in 2045 is has about twice as many people as it did in 2025, so it’s become a popular way to produce food when space is in short supply. I suppose we’ll be now be wanting to draw attention to ourselves by landing there, won’t we?”
“Aww, thanks Jase,” said Annebelle. I stifle a laugh as it’s a name I know JCN despises.
As if to make a point, JCN initiated one of the drone’s infamous “steep descents” (in which we drop like a stone for several hundred metres – JCN thinks this is hilarious) before landing in a field, next to some solar panels. Annebelle and I wobbled out of the drone, trying not to regurgitate our breakfast of algae-and-amaranth flatbreads that we picked up at HoverBiteTM , the sky café near Cotonou. Unperturbed, JCN floated out after us in its black box with sensors on, taking everything in.
“Landing complete; breakfast retained,” JCN announced.
A nearby woman greeted us cautiously: “Ojekoo, I’m Ashanta”, she said. “You the water pump people? I’ve been waiting since a week last Thursday.”
“Actually – bit of a long story,” I started, cheerily. “We’ve travelled here from the past owww!”
Stepping on my toe, Annebelle took over: “…from the pastures of Denmark,” she corrected. “We’re travelling the world, looking at innovations likely to shape the future of food. We’d love to hear about your aquaponics farm. Wouldn’t. We. Phil.”
“Y-Yes,” I replied coyly, realising my error.
Annebelle continued: “So we’re less pump delivery, more… science tourism,” she smiled.
“I see,” said Ashanta.
Walking us through her aquaponincs farm, Ashanta explained that there are three parts of the puzzle: the fish, the plants, and the microbes that change fish waste to nutrients for the plants. “We call this deep water culture – a couple of big, open-topped tanks for the fish, and then we put our leafy greens like jute mallow and kale in pots on floating rafts with the roots dangling in the water.” We looked more closely at Ashanta’s setup, appreciating the pumps and filter system powered by the solar panels. “You sure you’re not the water pump people?”, she asked again.
We assured her we weren’t, and she continued. It turned out Ashanta was part of an aquaponics project in the late 2020s that laid the foundation for what we were seeing.
“We Ghanaians love eating fish – always have,” she told us. “But until the mid-2030s a lot of it was imported. The government set up incentive schemes to promote local aquaponics systems like this. Ghana is now almost self-sufficient in fish production – mostly tilapia, and mostly small producers like me,” she said proudly.
“What do the fish eat?, asked Annebelle.
“Oh we have a whole system for that. We grow duckweed in one of the tanks; I can also feed them kitchen scraps – with a bit of preparation. And I have neighbours who grow and supply worms and black soldier fly larvae, using organic waste from the city – that’s big business round here.”
“Bon appetit,” muttered JCN sarcastically to the fish, as Ashanta flung a scoop of worm sludge into the tank. With that, a few stray flecks spattered across JCN’s olfactory sensors, sending our AI companion into a panicked spin accompanied by the sound of digital retching. Annebelle quickly stepped in with a HoverBiteTM serviette and wiped JCN down.
“Th-thanks Annebelle,” said JCN with genuine appreciation.
“You’re welcome, Jase,” she teased.
After everyone had breathed a sigh of relief, I wanted to know more about which crops worked best in Ashanta’s aquaponic system.
“Leafy greens and herbs do well,” said Ashanta, ”but I’m branching out into other vegetables – potatoes can do very well in underwater growbags if you know what you’re doing.”
“Fish and chips have always been pretty popular in Accra, haven’t they?” I said wistfully, thinking of home.
“Absolutely – and aquaponic fish and chips are a favourite in this part of town!” Ashanta said. “Ohh, and let’s not forget the bugs,” she continued, pointing into one of the tanks. ”They’re key to all of this, turning ammonia from the fish waste into nitrate for the plants and helping to purify the water.”
Ashanta continued: “The bugs need looking after, too, in terms of the water pH, temperature and oxygen levels. That’s why I’ve been trying to change my pumps since a week last Thursday,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Finally, Annebelle asked about the social impact of aquaponics. ”It’s been a game changer for many women”, Ashanta smiled. “It’s easier for us to borrow from the bank now. Once you have the know-how, and some credit to buy equipment and inputs, you can do pretty well. I employ a couple of youths from the city to help me out. It’s like mentoring – they work here for a while, get to know the ropes, then they can set up on their own.”
“Are the men are OK with all of this?,” asked Annebelle. “Well, some were a bit grumpy at the start, but most have been supportive. In fact, they’re calling us the Sugar Mamas now!”
With that, Ashanta insisted on sending us off with freshly made, Accra-style aquaponic fish and chips, wrapped in fresh banana leaves – because newspapers haven’t been printed anywhere since 2030s. Stepping back into the quadcopter, we should have expected one of JCN’s rapid ascents. Annebelle yelped as the drone lurched upward, our food parcels becoming airborne too.
“Altitude reached,” said JCN, a few seconds late. “Lunch… unrecoverable.”
***
