From my perspective, a Fiddle Leaf Fig, the first signs of trouble are not in the roots but in my leaves and stems. My roots are my lifeline, hidden in the dark soil, but when they begin to decay, I have no choice but to send signals upwards. You might notice my lower leaves turning yellow, one by one. This is not a normal aging process; it is a sign of systemic distress. As my roots rot, they can no longer absorb water and nutrients effectively, so I must sacrifice my oldest leaves to conserve resources for my newer growth.
Another clear sign is wilting. It may seem confusing because the soil feels wet, yet my leaves are droopy and limp. This is because the rotting roots are unable to transport that water to my stems and leaves. They are essentially drowning in their own environment while dying of thirst. You might also see brown spots, often starting at the center of the leaf and spreading outwards. These spots are soft and mushy, unlike the crispy brown spots caused by underwatering. Finally, if my stem feels soft or wobbly at the base, the rot has likely progressed significantly, compromising my structural integrity.
Root rot is, from my point of view, a slow suffocation. My roots need oxygen as much as they need water. When I am sitting in soggy, compacted soil with poor drainage, the air pockets around my roots disappear. The waterlogged conditions create a perfect environment for fungi, such as species of Pythium, Phytophthora, and Rhizoctonia, to attack. These pathogens thrive in the absence of oxygen and begin to consume my root system.
As the fungi invade, my root cells die. The healthy, firm white or tan roots turn brown or black, become mushy, and may even slough off. A telltale sign is a foul, musty odor emanating from the soil—the smell of decay. With each root that dies, my ability to sustain myself diminishes. I cannot photosynthesize effectively without water, and I cannot grow without nutrients. The problem feeds on itself, accelerating until you intervene.
If you suspect I am suffering, you must act quickly. The first step is to gently remove me from my pot. Shake off the soil and carefully inspect my root ball. Healthy roots are firm and white. Rotted roots will be dark, soft, and slimy. Using sterile, sharp pruning shears, you must cut away all the affected roots. Be ruthless but careful; any rot left behind will continue to spread. It is better to have fewer healthy roots than a mass of diseased ones.
Next, prune back some of my top growth, particularly the wilted or yellowing leaves. This may seem counterintuitive, but with a reduced root system, I cannot support a full canopy. This helps me focus my limited energy on regenerating roots. After pruning, repot me into a clean pot with fresh, well-draining soil. The new pot must have adequate drainage holes. Do not be tempted to use a much larger pot, as excess soil will hold too much water and could lead to the same problem recurring.
After this traumatic surgery, I need a stable and careful recovery period. Do not fertilize me; my tender new roots will be burned by the salts in fertilizer. Place me in a spot with bright, indirect light where I am protected from drafts and drastic temperature changes. The most critical part of my recovery is your watering routine. You must allow the top few inches of soil to dry out completely before watering me again. When you do water, water thoroughly until it runs from the drainage holes, but never let me sit in a saucer of water.
My recovery will be slow. You may not see new leaf growth for several weeks or even months as I dedicate all my energy to rebuilding my root system. Be patient with me. Your consistent care and attention to my needs are what will give me a second chance at life.
