From Plants to People Belgium

From May 6th to 9th, three cumpa members visited Plantentuin Meise for the “Plants for People – Botanical Expertise for a Sustainable Future in Central Africa” conference.

The location itself held symbolic weight: Meise was once the hub from which Belgian and French scientists set out to Africa in the late 19th century—searching for new coffee plants to resist coffee leaf rust, which then threatened the very existence of Arabica in colonial plantations.

What followed is both legacy and contradiction: many Coffea species were described, and while Linden promoted “Coffea robusta,” it was Pierre who had already described it as Coffea canephora. By the 1900 Paris World Fair, “Robusta” had gained its global name. Yet in 1905, it was botanically confirmed as part of Canephora. The confusion persists to this day.

As we walked past Meise’s castle-like building on the lake—the place where some of these taxonomic shifts began—we couldn’t help but reflect: this was where the creators, or discoverers, of today’s global Canephora/Robusta identity once gathered, 130 years ago.

The atmosphere at the event was modest, respectful, and deeply focused. Around 40 people gathered in a quiet hall surrounded by towering trees and botanical glasshouses.

Even between packed sessions, deep discussions emerged: about wild coffee genetics, hybridization, and the contradictions in scientific language.

We met some of the most dedicated Coffea researchers in the world:

In conversations about Canephora, we often felt like students at the start of their journey—speaking 1+1=2 while others debated abstract equations. This must be it, the answer to “How far coffee science is away from specialty coffee industry?”. Yet these experts remained open and humble, navigating between French and English with admirable generosity.

Day two offered even more hands-on experience. After a fascinating cupping session with Congolese coffees from INERA Yangambi, we toured the greenhouses.

Prof. Stoffelen introduced us to a wide range of Coffea species—some allogamous like Canephora, others autogamous like Arabica—each adapted to different ecosystems: rainforests, dry sand, flooded terrain.

Naturally, we wondered:
What would a cup of these rare coffees taste like under specialty conditions?
Could this be the rarest coffee in the world? Would the effort be worth it, would it have a good taste?

We moved on to banana research and discovered how one cannot visually distinguish between plantain and dessert banana stems, a mystery rooted in millions of years of evolution.

Finally, we met the gardener behind the Guinness World Record–holding flower. What remained of the more than 3 meters large, officially largest flower in the world, was a massive trunk with bright red seeds—each genetically unique. These seeds, we learned, will be shared with other botanical gardens to preserve the species.

We closed our visit with a tour of Meise’s old botanical library. The building is a testament to centuries of plant study—of both local and African flora.

One truth became more apparent than ever:
Africa holds the forests sacred to coffee’s future. As they disappear, so does the genetic base of coffee.

The future of coffee lies in the hands of those living in and around these forests. They must be empowered. They must thrive. Because the future of coffee can only be built on their land, with their participation.

The path to global equity may be long, but it is essential.

In the local environment, the names “Canephora” or “Robusta” once didn’t exist.
There was probably no consumption of roasted beans, maybe leaves and cherries for medicine.
The Arabs called it “Kawa”. The arrival of Europeans changed everything.

The D.R. Congo embodies both the power and the curse of resource richness.
Coffee is part of that paradox—it can be used for good or for harm.