Suppose a family is able to safely remain at home during a conflict. They're able to till the land and reap a decent harvest. What then? If they're unable to go to market due to conflict-related closures, that can also disrupt a delicate food system. In rural communities, neighbours often rely on one another for their income as well as for a diverse diet. Close the market, and the system is likewise shut down. Without formal storage facilities, this also means that much of the food harvested will go to waste, rotting before it can be eaten.
Conflict makes day-to-day life unpredictable, which can also lead to economic instability.
Even relatively wealthy families, like those living in Burundi during the country's civil war, may hedge their bets in response.
In Burundi, farmers of all economic situations switched to low-risk, low-return crops. Likewise, farmers in Colombia during the country's five-decade civil war switched from profitable crops like coffee and fruit trees to options that are more seasonal and subsistence-based. The goal was to survive rather than thrive. Such crops allowed for quicker harvests and immediate results, but they also hurt incomes and diets for generations.
The economic impacts of a conflict also mean inflation. Food not only becomes scarcer, but also more expensive. Black markets thrive in these conditions and offer a double-edged sword: On the one hand, they are sometimes the only way people can eat. On the other hand, they also open people up to more risk and greater shocks if the prices become unmanageable or supplies run dry.