Women fishmongers in Kenya have had little choice in the widespread sex-for-fish culture, until now

How cage fishing is leveling the playing field for Kenyan women fishmongers

Originally published on Global Voices

This story was written by Jackson Okata and originally published by Minority Africa on July 18, 2024. An abridged version is republished below as part of a content-sharing agreement.

Emelda has been a fishmonger at Lake Victoria’s Dunga beach in Kisumu city, 165 miles west of Kenya’s capital, Nairobi, for the past 27 years. The mother of five says her late brother, a fisherman, introduced her to the business.

“After completing high school, I was unable to join college; this led me into an early marriage as the only option. With the help of my brother, I ventured into fish trading to help my husband, who was a small-scale farmer,’’ Emelda tells Minority Africa.

Emelda started buying fish from fishermen and selling it for a profit. While she was able to make money, she quickly realised that fish stocks for women fishmongers, who rely on fishermen and boat owners for supply, were never guaranteed. This uncertainty prompted her to venture into cage fish farming.

“It is survival for the fittest and bravest. You can have money and go back home without fish. It is never easy for the faint-hearted,’’ Emelda narrates.

For decades, female fishmongers along Lake Victoria have fallen victim to the rampant “sex for fish” culture, or jaboya in the Dholuo language, propagated by fishermen and boat owners who exploit desperate women waiting for fish. Now, many of these women are turning to cage fish farming as an alternative.

Dwindling fish stocks 

Christopher Aura, director in charge of Fresh Water Research at the Kenya Marine and Fisheries Research Institute (KMFRI), acknowledges the drop in Lake Victoria fish production from 200,000 tonnes in 2012 to 98,000 tonnes in 2023. An estimated 47,000 fishermen operate some 15,000 boats on the lake.

“In the recent past, the lake’s fortunes have been dwindling due to several factors, among them climate change, overfishing and pollution. Wild fish stocks are rapidly diminishing,’’ says Aura.

For many women like Emelda, parting with sexual favours in exchange for fish is a common occurrence among the fisherfolk. Emelda opines that having sex with a fisherman or boat owner guarantees one getting enough stock regularly and at fairly discounted prices.

“It is a trap that is hard to escape if you want to remain in this business, and it gets worse when fishermen come back with little catch. Many women do it willingly because they lack options,’’ says Emelda.

Emelda says she was safe when her brother was around because he protected her from sex predators, but things changed after he passed on in 2004. She started practising jaboya to secure her business.

Dorothy, a 32-year-old mother of two, says she was forced into the sex-for-fish trade following her husband’s death in 2017.

“I was married to a fisherman at (the) tender age of 16, and after nine years, my husband died, leaving me with two young children to take care of, and that is how I fell victim to the culture of sex for fish,’’ she says.

Dorothy adds that the culture of jaboya has had both social and health effects on many fishing families around Lake Victoria.

“I am a victim of HIV because of engaging in sex for fish, and I have seen many families fall apart after husbands realized that their wives were engaged in this thing,’’ Dorothy says.

Confronting the vice

In 2013, KMFRI introduced cage fishing to mitigate the problem of dwindling fish stocks in Lake Victoria. This method allows individuals and groups to rear fish in suspended netted enclosures within select areas of the lake. This solution is proving to be a silver bullet for many women who have for long suffered at the hands of oppressive and exploitative fishermen.

Dorothy is a member of the Dunga Women Fishmongers Group, which operates three cages in the lake. By pooling resources, the group of 50 women installed their first cage in 2020, something which turned around their fortunes.

Florence Walumo, chairperson of the Dunga Women Fishmongers Group, says their first 5 m wide by 5 m-long (16.4 feet wide by 16.4 feet) cage could hold 6,000 tilapia fingerlings, enough to meet the demand of her group members when harvested.

“Our first fish cage gave us the empowerment we badly needed as women fishmongers. It moved us from being vulnerable sex objects to real businesswomen,’’ says Walumo.

With proceeds from the first cage, the group has set up two extra-big cages, each capable of holding 10,000 tilapia fingerlings.

“We no longer rely on brokers, nor do we have to give our bodies to men in exchange for fish. Cage fishing has turned us into suppliers’’ said Topister Awiti, a member of the group.

Through the innovative practice of cage fishing, the women are protecting themselves from sex predators and taking a leading role in restocking fish stocks in the lake.

Self-reliance and empowerment

Susan Awiti leads the Kagwar Beach Women Fishers Group in Siaya County. She tells Minority Africa, “Initially, it was believed that fishing was a preserve of men and women trading in fish had to operate at the mercy of the male fishers, but cage fishing has demystified that notion and given us freedom.’’

She continued, “We are not only confronting sex for fish trade, but we are also taking our space in the industry. Female fishmongers now feel safe and protected from sexual exploitation’’

Evelyne Akello, a member of the Kowil Women’s Group, which dared to go into cage fish farming in 2018, says the technology is also giving women financial independence, something she says has contributed to shielding them from sex predators.

“As we speak, some of the boat owners and fishermen who used to exploit us sexually have turned into our employees,” says Akello. “We have employed them to watch over our cages and do the harvesting, which has earned us respect and honour as fishmongers.”

Tonny, a 50-year-old fisherman who works for the Kowil Women’s Group admitted to having been a perpetrator of the vice for many years, but he joined the crusade to end the culture after contracting HIV.

“That culture almost ruined my life, but God gave me a second chance to be part of the solution. The same women I took advantage of are now my bosses.’’

Caging cost

Caging allows the artificial feeding of fish, which enhances faster maturity. Harvesting is done after eight to nine months; one cage installation costs between USD 1,500 and USD 2,000.

Apart from gathering resources, the Kenyan government, through the Ministry of Fisheries and Blue Economy, has been extending financial help to women's groups to meet the cost of installing cages, while KMFRI offers technical support.

The women have been trained to produce sustainable fish feeds from locally available raw materials, such as black soldier fly larvae, to reduce operating costs.

Michael Omondi, the aquaculture business officer of the Homabay County government, says that in 2023, women in the county harvested an estimated 28.8 tonnes of fish through cage farming.

According to Aura, as of 2023, there were some 6,000 cages spread across 31 sites on the Kenyan side of Lake Victoria, with 30 percent of the cages being owned by women's groups.

Aura of KMFRI says Kenya’s Lake Victoria waters can accommodate up to 25,427 cages, producing 20,000 tonnes of tilapia annually.

Emelda concludes that cage fishing has created a level playing field and gender-responsive environment for women fishmongers.

“The future looks bright and promising, and my joy is that young women joining fish trading today and in days to come will find a safe space to operate in,’’ she says.

Written by Zita Zage