From Ocean To Fork In Cabo Delgado, Mozambique

Mateus Cinquenta emerges from the driver’s side of the car, his weary foot making its way to the sandy ground. The regular two-hour drive from Mecúfi back home to Pemba is exhausting, but a small price to pay given the circumstances. Ongoing instability in northern Mozambique has destroyed the lives and livelihoods of so many but, thanks to his fishponds in Mecúfi, the Cinquenta family has managed to keep food on the table.

It’s a blazing hot day in northern Mozambique. Mr. Cinquenta wipes the sweat from his brow as he makes his way over to a sandy common area bordered by bamboo gates.

Seated there are 14-year-old Fauzia and 11-year-old Elena, two of his eight grandchildren. They are busy making dinner. The Prato do dia (menu of the day) consists of tilapia and xima (cassava flour porridge) made with fresh coconut milk. Elena grates coconuts while Fauzia warms up the pot.

“Boa tarde!” Mateus greets the children animatedly.

The children’s smiling faces, their loving grandfather and two pet chickens hungrily eyeing the growing mound of grated coconut create a delightful scene, reminiscent of life more than half a decade ago, before Islamist armed group, Ahlu Sunna Wal Jama (ASWJ)— known locally as Al-Shabaab or mashababosa— claimed thousands of lives and according to the UN, displaced up to a million people in Cabo Delgado.

For one idyllic moment, one might almost forget that the threat of insurgency is still very much a daily reality in the southeast African country.

While military intervention has helped to gradually restore a sense of normalcy in the area, abandoned buildings, defunct businesses, eroded infrastructure, overcrowded shelters, and escalating food insecurity signify that all is not well in Mozambique’s resource-rich northernmost coastal province.

Before the fighting started in 2017, Cabo Delgado was a popular region for tourists, who would flock there to enjoy the beaches and the fresh seafood cuisine. Per capita fish consumption was 11.4 kg, the second highest in Southern Africa.

Today hunger is at crisis levels, with an estimated 900,000 people in the province facing food insecurity due to ongoing violence, population displacement, and unemployment.

In addition to farming and fishing equipment being destroyed in the conflict, the food crisis has trickled to the insurgent camps, causing farmers and fishers in the area to be particularly vulnerable to attacks and vandalism by armed groups.

“In the districts that have been affected, people have been unable to produce food. Fishers are not able to go fishing and most of them have lost their equipment, their inputs, and even the production that they had on their farms,” says Razaque Quive, a Project Manager of the Sustainable Food Systems Program for the Mozambique office of Swiss NGO, Global Alliance for Improved Nutrition (GAIN).

The conflict has dealt a severe blow to local livelihoods.

With support from the Kingdom of Norway, GAIN has been working with partners such as the Scaling Up nutrition Business Network in Mozambique (SBNMOZ) and the Confederation of Economic Associations of Mozambique (CTA), to strengthen and repair the local food system, improve the availability and affordability of safe and nutritious foods, support local entrepreneurs to grow businesses that specialize in nutritious food, and promote healthier diets, especially for the most vulnerable people.

And the people of Mozambique are nothing if not resilient.

At any time of day one can see men and boys in colorful canoes and small vessels casting nets along the coastline. Among them are internally displaced persons (IDPs) many of whom are newcomers to the industry.

Mateus Cinquenta is one of many who has adjusted to the circumstances by diversifying his livelihood— alternating between open sea fishing and aquaculture to safeguard his income when fish stocks are low.

In Mecúfi, there are approximately 1,299 fishers (including IDPs). Some have created associations to manage limited resources while others have set up supply cooperatives, pooling resources and returns from a shared fish farm.

Born into a fishing family, Mr. Cinquenta is carrying on the legacy of his parents who helped to support the food security of their community.

“I was born here, nearby the sea. And my parents, they were fishers,” he explains. “Being the son of fishers, I decided to also embrace this life, so that I could help my community to develop and be healthy and have a good life.”

A year into the conflict, Mr. Cinquenta joined with at least 20 other fisheries workers, and created the Com Peixe (Portuguese for ‘with fish’) cooperative.

The Government of Mozambique allowed the group to use land in Mecúfi where they dug ten earthen fishponds to raise tilapia and mullet (tainha). These have provided an important source of protein to the surrounding community, particularly during times when there is a decline in open water fish supply.

“We usually sell our fish here in Mecúfi and in Pemba city. But generally, we sell here [Mecúfi]. And because we produce our fish here, we can sell our fish when there is little fish in the sea, when the tide is not good… so we decide to sell here and this whole place [the market] gets full…”

But while the cooperative provides its members with economic benefits, market failures and safety concerns have affected productivity and efficiency.

“When there is war, life becomes more difficult,” says Mr. Cinquenta, recalling the original impact of the war on food security and livelihoods.

“With the war came fear. The more it intensified, the more our fear increased… With the war it was very difficult to have [access to] food because farmers were far away from their farms and did not go to work because they were afraid. Because of that, we were forced to increase the number of people to watch over the fish farm— from one to four.”

Amid the instability, the local government and international NGOs have been working tirelessly to help revitalize the local fisheries sector. Interventions such as the Aquaculture Development Project (PRODAPE) have been helping to alleviate pressure on fish stocks and improve food security by transitioning aquaculture from subsistence to commercial levels.

“We want food businesses to be sustainable,” says Razaque Quive. “We don’t want people to produce food only for eating, but we also want them to be able to sell this food to other people and have money so that they don’t have to rely on humanitarian or other assistance… GAIN has provided producers with training and now they have knowledge on how to manage their small businesses, while we make arrangements to supply them with grants.”

Mateus Cinquenta was among the recipients of GAIN training and is awaiting a grant that will help him to implement the business plan that he developed with the NGO’s support. He is also sharing his knowledge with other fishers.

The targeted interventions are helping members of the Com Peixe cooperative to enhance the economic benefits of the cooperative approach by improving the way that they do business.

“We don’t only sell this fish,” says Marietta Yasini, a cooperative leader and mother of four. “We take it home to eat.”

With the contraction of the local food systems in Cabo Delgado, the fisheries sector offers hope for a return to the way things were before the fighting began. And for those in the Com Peixe Cooperative, the benefits are starting to trickle in.

“Today we are a cooperative with a few tanks, but our goal is to be a big company, to have thirty to forty tanks, to start hiring people,” says Mr. Cinquenta as he settles in to enjoy the dinner prepared by his granddaughters.

Tomorrow he will rise before dawn and begin the fifty-kilometer journey back to Mecúfi. With a large family, including eight grandchildren, all of whom depend on him, he cannot let tiredness— or war— get in the way of his goals.

“That is our will. We work to grow. Life will be better.”