Breadcrumb
On a dusty morning in the Jordanian town of Dhiban, just south of Amman, Aisha Al-Hawatmeh walks between rows of crisp, emerald lettuce nestled in white plastic troughs.
Inside the greenhouse, there is no soil — just a quiet trickle of nutrient-rich water circulating beneath the plants. Outside, the land lies dry and hard. Inside, it’s an oasis she built from scratch.
“I used to grow herbs in bottles on my balcony,” she laughs, brushing her fingers along a sprig of basil. “But when the water ran out, so did my little garden. That’s when I realised — if I wanted to keep farming, I needed to farm differently.”
What began as a retired nurse’s experiment with urban gardening has evolved into Jordan’s first women-led hydroponics cooperative, a climate-smart farming initiative that has trained dozens of women, revitalised neglected plots of land, and offered hope in a country teetering on the edge of a water crisis.
Jordan is one of the driest countries in the world. Over 90% of its land is desert or semi-desert, and its freshwater reserves are shrinking fast.
The average Jordanian now has access to just 100 cubic metres of water per year — well below the international threshold of water scarcity, which is 500 cubic metres.
Climate change has only made things worse: seasonal rains are becoming increasingly erratic, and droughts are becoming more intense. Meanwhile, traditional agriculture, which consumes over half of Jordan’s water, is becoming almost impossible in many parts of the country.
Yet even in this parched landscape, women like Aisha are quietly reclaiming land and livelihoods with hydroponics.
Aisha’s journey began in 2019 with a simple idea she called 'Habak'— Arabic for basil. She submitted it to a European entrepreneurship contest and placed fifth. That modest success gave her the confidence to seek real funding. Eventually, she secured support from Eco Consult, a Jordanian company working on hydroponics with backing from the Dutch government.
The first test was building a training station in Dhiban. The land was barren, and the nearest water source was three kilometres away.
“We had to truck in water, by hand, in barrels,” Aisha says. “People thought we were crazy. But when you don’t have options, you innovate.”
With technical support, Aisha and her trainees built 15 greenhouses across 11 dunams (approximately 10,000 square metres). Today, they grow lettuce, herbs, baby cucumbers, and winter peas, all without a single shovel of soil. The plants sit in volcanic rock, coconut fibre, or floating waterbeds, depending on the crop.
This method uses up to 85% less water than traditional farming, according to agricultural engineer Mohammad Mashatleh. “And there’s no soil degradation, no pesticides, no runoff. It’s ideal for dry regions like Madaba,” he says.
The greenhouses aren’t just an environmental success — they’re an economic lifeline for local women. Many of the participants are single mothers, widows, or refugees. Twenty-seven women have been trained through Habak so far, and three have gone on to establish their hydroponic businesses.
Um Omar, a mother of three whose husband is bedridden, now earns 12 Jordanian dinars a day working with Aisha. “At first I just wanted a job,” she says.
“But I’ve learned how to grow crops without soil. I’m still learning every day. This project gave me something of my own.”
To address the next hurdle — how to sell their produce — Aisha formed a women’s marketing alliance.
“The local markets offered us cheap prices. They didn’t value our clean, chemical-free vegetables,” she explains. “So we reached out to Basentro, a health-focused food store in Amman. They saw the value.”
Now, the farm’s vegetables are sold with a certified food safety code, giving them an edge in a market increasingly hungry for clean produce. Aisha also staggers planting cycles to avoid oversaturating the market and to guarantee prices.
“We run it like a business, not a hobby,” she says.
For women like Nawal Al-Hasban*, Habak was more than a job — it was a launching pad. After training with Aisha, she applied for a grant from the Jordan River Foundation, secured a plastic greenhouse, and started her own farm in the town of Faisaliyah.
“My first harvest came out last Ramadan,” she says proudly. “Now I’m planning my second. I want to build a smart farm one day.”
Another alumna, Muna Al-Wakhyan, spent over a year training at Habak before launching her project in 2023. She started with onions, and now has her eye on hydroponic cucumbers.
“Aisha even pushed me to get certified as a hydroponic farmer,” she says. “She believed in us before we believed in ourselves.”
Perhaps the most striking success is Fawza Al-Ajyalin, whose greenhouse now sits atop a small hill in her village of Machaerus. She recalls visiting Habak’s site in Dhiban with scepticism.
“I couldn’t understand how plants could grow without soil. But when a funding call came up, I remembered Aisha and asked for her help.” With Aisha’s guidance, she secured the grant and planted her first baby cucumbers this year.
Engineer Mohammad Mashatleh believes Aisha’s work shows what’s possible when community-led innovation meets climate resilience.
“These women have taken ownership of a serious national problem — water scarcity — and turned it into opportunity,” he says. “And the results are real: income, employment, food security.”
He believes the model could be scaled across Jordan, particularly in areas hosting refugees or those with limited agricultural infrastructure.
“Hydroponics isn’t just for urban rooftops or tech farms,” he says. “It’s for any community willing to adapt.”
Despite the wins, Aisha says funding remains tight, and scaling the model across Jordan is slow without long-term support.
“There’s interest, even from ministries and municipalities,” she says. “But people still see this as a novelty, not a national solution.”
Still, she’s not slowing down. She’s currently lobbying for a dedicated hydroponics training centre for women, and helping more trainees write grant proposals of their own.
“Every time I see a woman launch her own greenhouse, or tell me she paid rent this month because of the farm — I feel we’re doing something important,” Aisha says, looking out over her rows of floating greens.
In a country running dry, that’s no small thing.
Huda Alhanayfah is an independent investigative journalist from Jordan specialising in human rights, with a particular focus on the rights of women and children
This piece was published in collaboration with Egab