On the Lake
Photographs of fishing communities around the
Koome Archipelago, Lake Victoria, Uganda.
The Koome Archipelago hugs the northern shore of Lake Victoria, a few miles south of the country's capital, Kampala. A climatic paradise of ample nightly rains, daily sun and a seemingly unending breeze to take the edge off those equatorial midday highs of 30C. The islands here are mostly home to fishermen, a semi nomadic bunch who move with the shoal. Some who live permanently in the settlements are involved in small businesses supporting the fish trade, others are subsistence farmers and opportunists, who take advantage of other natural resources here, such as trees, to produce charcoal and timber. Jobs are few, but everyone around here knows the lake will provide, so new generations are brought up into the trade of their parents. The life of a fisherman is a life of living for today. You earn what you catch that morning, and you spend what you earn by evening. Wash, rinse, repeat. No need to think about the future, because the future isn't guaranteed.
"The lake is my bank", Kawunguli, Bulago Island, 2019
Monsters in the Lake, Kawunguli, Bulago Island, 2019
Catch of the day... two lungfish (Mamba), Kawunguli, Bulago Island, 2020
A future of fishing, Zingola, Koome Island, 2020
Waiting to be released, Marine Police Station, Bulago Island, 2019
Illegal catch from a night fishing in the shallows, Bulago Island, 2019
Over the past few decades the fish stocks in Lake Victoria have plummeted. Fishing is a relatively lucrative endeavor in the region, so eager youngsters, out of work and looking to make a fast buck drive the use of progressively more and more destructive methods. The country's exploding population leads most to believe that, although renewed efforts are attempting to stabilise the fishery, there are still many challenges that lay ahead. The government sees a fishery that needs to be saved, with there being dire consequences for the entire population should they not succeed. In a last ditch attempt to halt the mass environmental exploitation a special branch of the military was deployed to the region in 2017. Despite good intentions, this heavy-handed approach was seen as an oppression by the already marginalised lake inhabitants, who view fishing as their birthright.
Casting the net, Lake Victoria, 2019
Left to rot, Bulago Island, 2020
Such is the staggering rate of fatalities on the lake that many fishermen believe their time is not far off. Outwardly at least, most seem at peace with that; although, sadly, it is their dependents and loved ones that truly feel the loss. Life-jackets have become widely available through government initiatives. Several notable tragedies over the past couple of years have led to wearing them being mandatory by law. However, with a strong belief that their fate rests solely in the hands of spirits that travel on the wind, most fishermen decide to take their chances without, stating adamantly, when your time is up, it's up. This 'devil may care' attitude towards a watery grave may seem brave if it weren't for the unfortunate truth that so many fisher-folk drown close to shore, although, unable to swim, distance becomes irrelevant.
Life jackets save lives, Ggaba to Zingola Public Boat, 2020
Late to catch the boat to the mainland, Bulago Island, 2020
Are we there yet?, Ggaba - Zingola Public Boat, 2019
After the rain, Ggaba to Zingola Public Boat, 2019
Back to the islands, Ggaba - Zingola Public Boat, 2019
Many islanders are from elsewhere in Uganda and across East Africa. Often, they are serial offenders cast out from the villages they once called home, looking to escape the reach of authority by fleeing to a place that the government shows little interest for. The communities are suspicious of outsiders and paranoid they will be chased from their makeshift towns. Despite the wariness, community spirit is strong and comradery between tribe mates is resolute through thick and thin.
News travels fast, Kimmi Island, 2019
"Welcome to Paradise", Kimmi Island, 2019
To spend your money like a fisherman as the Ugandan saying goes, means to blow your fortune frivolously; in this case on girls and booze. Bars and nightclubs are plentiful in the camps and the clientele start early. From Wednesday to Sunday they blast their music through the night, the steady boom of the bass from Kimmi Island can be heard across the lake on Bulago, over five miles away.
"Kasubi VIP" Zingola, Koome Island, 2019
All eyes down, Kawunguli, Bulago Island, 2019
Ludo champ, Kawunguli, 2019
For those who decide to abandon illegal fishing and comply with government regulation the jump is not easy. Investing in a boat, engine and net of the correct standards costs upwards of fifteen times their illegal equivalent, immediately saddling most with a sizable debt. Once more, using legal equipment does not necessarily yield potential for making more money, due to ever fluctuating fish prices and the unpredictability of even finding fish. The combination of high capital investment and low profit means many are resistant, or simply unable, to conform to the law, and therefore they leave themselves open to the harsh punishments dealt by the UPDF (Uganda peoples defense force) fisheries task-force.
Another day of no fish, Kawunguli, Bulago Island, 2019
The moment of truth, Kawunguli, Bulago Island, 2019
Legal fishing doesn't pay, Kawunguli, Bulago Island, 2019
Fish buyer, Zingola to Ggaba Public Boat, 2019
I have come to learn that each fishing camp is made up of a rag tag bunch of misfits and outsiders. Despite the difficulties of a life on the lake, there is always so much support for those who arrive as strangers. With nothing but hope for a fresh start, before long, they are embraced as a brother, sister, son or daughter as part of their new family, on the shores of Nalubaale.
Paradise is here, Kawunguli, Bulago Island, 2020
