By Madiba Singhateh
At the bustling fish landing site in Sanyang, the voices of women small-scale fishers tell a story of hardship, resilience, and growing frustration. On Saturday, 4th October, these women gathered during a workshop on Empowering Women Fishers in Sustainable Fishing Practices, Governance, and Community-Led Management, organized by Sanyang Youth for Environmental Protection in partnership with Blue Ventures, CETAG, and AFWIC, to share the struggles that have been weighing heavily on their lives.
MajehManjang, who primarily catches catfish, spoke with quiet urgency. “When we buy a basket of fish at the landing site, it is almost impossible to sell it at the market because the prices are too high. Sometimes, we cannot even afford to have fish at home to feed our families,” she said, her eyes reflecting both fatigue and determination.
Majeh lamented the lack of financial support. “The government gives loans to women, but most of us are afraid to take them. How can we repay if the market prices keep changing? How can we feed our children if we incur losses?” she asked, her voice heavy with worry.
She painted a picture of the past, when fish was abundant and accessible. “Before, fish was part of every household. We could use it for family meals, community naming ceremonies, and celebrations. Today, it feels like fish has become a luxury we cannot afford.”
At the heart of the problem, Majeh says, are fishing trawlers that have devastated the sea. “They catch everything in their path. The laws say they should stay nine nautical miles from the coast, but they come as close as six, taking what we depend on to survive. We raise these issues repeatedly, but nothing changes. Sometimes, I wonder if the Ministry of Fisheries even cares about us,” she said, her frustration palpable.
Amie Ceesay, a fish exporter, added her perspective: “These trawlers, along with fishmeal factories, are destroying livelihoods. The Sadinelel species, mostly Bonga, is nutritious and affordable for ordinary Gambians, but now foreign trawlers take everything. People can no longer eat what once fed our families.”
RoheyJarju, speaking from Barra, described the impact on households: “Fish has become so expensive. When we cannot get it at our landing site, we have to go to Banjul or Tanji, and they charge even more. Families are struggling to put food on the table.”
For these women, fishing is not just a job—it is survival. It is what feeds their children, sustains their families, and keeps their communities alive. Yet, with dwindling fish stocks, rising prices, and limited government support, the future feels uncertain.
The workshop highlighted an urgent call for action: regulate trawlers, protect small-scale fishers, and ensure food security for local communities. For these women, the stakes are personal; every basket of fish lost is a meal their children cannot eat, a family tradition that cannot continue, and a livelihood slipping further away.
