Bio: Halp posted on Bana about a coffee that they released from Eswatini, a small country in Africa that I personally had no idea produced coffee.
In addition to this really unique coffee, they have some pretty interesting coffees, including an auction lot from Kenya, a processed Adaura lot, some cleaner Ethiopian and Colombian lots, and a few higher processed Colombian lots. All in all, there is a lot of interesting green from this release. Most of it is more limited than a majority of our releases.
Roast Profile: Their roasting is somewhere in the ‘Japanese light roast' end of things, which I find fairly comparable to Botz.
Tasting Notes: Cassis, Ripe Green Apple, Apricot, Black Tea
Why did we bring this coffee on?
This is a very unique coffee from an Auction I haven't seen elsewhere. This was an auction from a single estate in Kenya. I believe there were only a handful of lots available from it. This lot is, unfortunately, rather limited.
I found a short story that the farmer wrote about his coffee background for this auction and will share it below:
A Story by Martin Mwangi Muruiki
In 1954, my father bought this land.
Four years later, in 1958, he planted nine coffee bushes. Not ten. Not twelve. Nine.
At the time, colonial regulations restricted African farmers from growing coffee freely. My father planted four additional bushes in quiet defiance. For that decision, he was arrested and spent ten days in a police cell. When he was released, he was forced to uproot the extra trees.
Only nine were allowed to remain. To him, those nine bushes were the world.
He understood what rested in his hands — black gold. Pride under oppression. Promise under surveillance. Those bushes represented livelihood, dignity, and a silent refusal to surrender possibility. After independence, he expanded the farm, but Ngacha Coffee Estate was born from those nine trees.
He would often remind me:
“This is my legacy. Do not compromise it. Take up the mantle and shine brighter.”
He never lived to see Ngacha coffee score above 88 points, but he planted something greater than coffee itself. He planted defiance.
Inheritance
I inherited the farm in 2019.
I did not grow up among coffee trees. My upbringing was urban, shaped more by my father’s stories than by coffee bushes rows. He told me how he became the first in the locality to build a house with corrugated iron sheets, and later the first to construct a two-story stone home. Through those stories, he taught me what building truly meant — patience, courage, and belief in tomorrow.
When he passed away after battling cancer, the stories became responsibility.
The farm was no longer history. It was mine to protect.
One of our first decisions was immediate: we banned herbicides. We eliminated fungicides and pesticides with reckless residue histories. If we were to produce something consumed around the world, it could not harm the soil that carries my father’s memory.
All biopesticides are managed and applied following recognized biosecurity protocols, supporting safe use like pre-harvest intervals, environmental stewardship, and compliance with sustainability standards.
For us, stewardship is personal before it is agricultural.
Holding On
The first year was difficult.
We wanted to retain the entire workforce — nearly 90% of whom are women from the surrounding community — but liquidity disappeared quickly. The thought of scaling down weighed heavily on us.
Then came 2020 and the uncertainty of COVID-19.
My wife Bessie and I sold a personal asset to keep the farm alive. We chose continuity over comfort because this community had stood with my father since 1958. Walking away was never an option.
At the time, we did not know who would buy our coffee. We did not know whether anyone would.
Looking back, it became the most important decision we ever made.
We preserved not only a farm, but hope during a moment when the world felt uncertain.
The Awakening
In August 2020, I attended my first serious cupping session with coffee researcher Kinuthia Chuaga from Dedan Kimathi University of Technology.
When the results appeared, I stopped mid-breath. His eyes lit up before he spoke. The coffee spoke first.
In that moment, I realized:
“Hold on. We are on to something.”
In 2022, Ngacha scored above 88 points for the first time.
I shed a tear — not because of the score, but because I knew the journey that began with nine restricted bushes had finally reached the global table.
The question was no longer whether the coffee was good.
The question became: who would find us?
Jabali The Coffee Company did. The partnership felt inevitable — like a hand fitting perfectly into a glove.
The Ngacha Ecosystem
Ngacha Coffee Estate sits between 1,626 and 1,678 meters above sea level on steep red volcanic soils in Kenya’s central highlands.
Morning sunlight arrives directly and decisively. Evenings cool rapidly, creating a natural temperature drop that preserves acidity and stabilizes drying rhythms. Annual rainfall ranges between 953 and 1,200 millimeters, supporting slow cherry maturation and concentrated flavor development.
Seven acres are currently under coffee production.
Three additional acres are being established within a forested section we call Mugumo Forest Coffee, named after a 150-year-old sacred fig tree standing at its center. Among the Kikuyu people, the Mugumo tree is never cut. It is a place to gather, to reflect, and to listen.
That tree represents our future — growth rooted in respect.
Our Coffee
Ngacha grows primarily SL28 and SL34 varieties, alongside a small portion of Ruiru 11.
Annual production currently averages three tons, projected to reach seven tons as new plantings mature.
But our goal has never been volume.
Our goal is precision without compromise.
Every cherry is selectively harvested. Every season is approached as learning. Every cup is treated as a continuation of a story that began long before me.
What Ngacha Means
Ngacha Coffee Estate is more than a farm I inherited.
It is a conversation between generations.
From nine bushes planted under restriction to coffees now welcomed across the world, this journey has been shaped by resilience, community, and belief.
My father planted under limitation.
My responsibility is to grow without compromise.
Every harvest carries his words forward:
“Take up the mantle and shine brighter.”
And every cup of Ngacha coffee is part of that legacy.
Martin Ngacha
