Kagwel, Kenya – Rhoda Ongoche Akech still remembers the whispers that followed her to the water’s edge in 2002. At 39, the mother of seven was about to break one of Lake Victoria’s oldest taboos: a woman boarding a fishing boat.
“People were alleging that when women go into the water with men, they are engaging in sexual intercourse,” the now 61-year-old said. But when they realized she was just going there to learn and wouldn’t stop because of stigma, “they kept quiet”.
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Before then, things were very different in Akech’s community in Kagwel, a lakeside village in Seme Subcounty, Kisumu County.
For decades, he had worked as a fisherman in the village where fishing – which was done only by men – had sustained families for generations. But his income was decreasing. The cost of purchasing fish from male fishermen, combined with the expense of firewood, frying oil and bus fare to markets, was becoming unsustainable.
Then in 2001, some women from neighboring Homabe County arrived in Kagwel and did something unthinkable: They went fishing. Akech saw them and was inspired.
“As I found out, I sought the help of two youths to assist me in fishing,” he said. Despite warnings from community members who insisted that women had no place on the water, she persisted. His family depended on it.
The cultural taboo against women fishing in Lake Victoria communities stems from beliefs deeply woven into the social fabric of fishing villages. According to William Okedo, a 57-year-old elder from Kagwel village, the traditions were particularly strict regarding menstruation.
“It was believed that if women went into the lake during their periods, they would scare away the fish and cause harm to the people fishing,” Ocado said.
This discrimination also extended to male fishermen, who were forbidden from having sex with their wives the night before a fishing expedition, as this would dilute their catch.
a team of women
Although Akech’s bold move broke taboos in 2002, it was more than a decade before another woman joined her.
For 16 years, Akech fished alone, a lonely figure among many male fishermen. Then in 2018, Faith Awuor Angwo, a 37-year-old mother of four, took to the water herself.
For years, Engavo had worked as a fish seller in the nearby Luanda market, where similar economic pressures were growing.
“My husband rejected the idea at first,” Ang’avo said, fearing opposition from the fishing community, “but he later allowed me to join Roda”.
Two years later, in 2020, 22-year-old mother of three and housewife Dorcas Avio joined the team. Her husband, himself a fisherman, initially protested.
“At first, my husband was not accepting of the idea, but later he allowed me to do it,” Avio said. She needed additional income to supplement her husband’s earnings.
By 2022, the sight of women fishing had become so common that Janet Ndwei, a 42-year-old mother of two, faced no resistance when she joined Akech’s team.
“I didn’t face any challenges or receive any warnings about joining them because the surrounding community was used to seeing Rhoda and Faith fishing,” Ndwei said. With the challenges she was facing and no husband to support her in her fishing business, fishing offered a viable option.
On productive days when fish are plentiful, boat owners at Kagwel Beach can earn between 6,000 to 8,000 Kenyan shillings (about $46 to $62). According to Seme subcounty fisheries officer Wilson Onjolo, crew members earn between 500 and 800 shillings ($3.88 to $6.20), and traders, including fishermen, can earn up to 1,000 shillings ($7.75). This is much more than the 500 shillings that women earn daily as fishermen by buying fish from male fishermen.
Economic necessity drives cultural change
Okedo, the village elder, has watched the change with mixed emotions.
She remembers seeing women fishing in Suba, the area bordering Lake Victoria, where fishing was the main economic activity, many years before Akech was introduced. But this practice was never as prominent as it has become.
Ocado said, “It’s all because of the economic difficulties the community is facing; it’s pushing women to break taboos.”
He acknowledges that there are no longer any barriers preventing women from fishing as Akech, inspired by the women of Homabe, have provided a living example that has challenged long-held beliefs.
Dalmas Onyango, a 35-year-old fisherman and father of three, confirmed that attitudes have changed among male fishermen.
“Most of my fellow fishermen now support his decision to go fishing,” Onyango said. She explained that economic hardships have pushed women toward decisions that were once unimaginable.
The women’s success comes at a time when Lake Victoria’s fishing communities face increasing environmental challenges. Akech has seen a gradual decline in his catch compared to when he first started fishing in 2002.
Chris Mutai, senior meteorologist in charge of the Kisumu Meteorological Centre, attributes the declining fish population to the effects of climate change on the lake’s ecosystem. Rising water temperatures have promoted the growth of algae and reduced oxygen levels, which is having a direct impact on fish populations.
“To reverse this, people should stay away from riverine lands so that bushes can grow there, which will serve as breeding grounds for fish, and avoid pollution of the lake, which traps more heat than plain, clear water,” Mutai said.
They warned that water temperatures are expected to rise by an additional 0.5C (0.9F) over the next 10 to 20 years, reaching between 29.5C and 31C (85.1-87.8F). Without pollution control measures, protection of coastal areas, regulated fishing and alternative livelihoods such as farming, fish abundance in Lake Victoria will decline further.
Mutai’s station broadcasts five-day weather forecasts across the region, which are distributed to fishing communities through WhatsApp groups and the Kisumu County Government. This information enables fishermen – and now fisherwomen – to take proper precautions before entering the water.
Lake Victoria supports more than 42 million people who depend on it for food, employment and drinking water. The lake is facing increasing pressure from overfishing, pollution, invasive species and climate change, leading to low per capita catch rates despite an annual yield of around one million tonnes.
in legal limbo
Despite his accomplishments, Akech and his team are officially in limbo. Susan Claire, Kisumu County’s acting director of fisheries and blue economy, denies women fishing in Lake Victoria in any official capacity.
“We have women who own boats and women traders, but they are not involved in night fishing or as boat crew members,” Claire told Al Jazeera. His statement leaves Akech’s team without official recognition compared to their male counterparts. Even though women do equal work, they still do not get support due to legal hurdles.
However, Christopher Ora, director in charge of freshwater research at the Kenya Marine and Fisheries Research Institute, stated in 2023 that “there are over 47,000 fishermen, including 1,000 women, in Lake Victoria”, suggesting that the current county administration’s data may be incomplete.
Claire acknowledged that declining fish stocks remain a significant challenge. The county is working closely with the Meteorological Department and Tembia Youth Center to sensitize fishermen to obtain climate related information. They are also collaborating with coastal management units – community-based organizations that co-manage fishery resources with the government – to strengthen governance and take action against illegal fishing in the lake.
According to Onjolo, there are 35 beach management units in Kisumu County, with about 1,500 to 2,000 fishermen working in Seme subcounty alone.
Ndweyi, who first joined Akech in 2022, now uses her fishing earnings to pay college fees for both her children, as her previous earnings as a fisherman could not cover it.
“Through fishing, I am able to meet the basic needs of my household and also pay the school fees of my children in college,” she said.
But the livelihood that Akech pioneered is becoming difficult to sustain. She says she’s watched the lake change over the 23 years she’s been there, and that her catches have steadily declined over the past few decades.
Nevertheless, the four women continue to line up before dawn every morning. On days when fish are scarce, his earnings become less than what he earns as a fisherman. On good days, they still earn enough to justify the physical labor and risk of working on open water.
“A man without land is a man without life,” said Akech, with the parallel truth untold: a fisherman without fish faces the same fate.
This story was published in collaboration with egab.
