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Why illegal fishing has persisted in Uganda

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Fisherment drag a fishing boat onto the beach at Kasensero Lading Sight in Rakai District last month. According to the 2023 Uganda Auditor General’s report, 25 percent of all fishing gear on Lake Victoria is illegal.  PHOTO | CHRIS P KAYONGA

For countless generations, fishers have toiled on the shores of Lake Victoria, seeking the day’s catch. This mid-morning in October appeared no different. At Kasensero Landing Site in Rakai District, not far from Uganda’s border with Tanzania, a crew of 15 men heaved an eight-metre long, wooden blue and green boat, with an outboard motor, from the water onto the beach.

Fish producers such as these form the backbone of a lucrative trade that, just six years ago, was the second-highest earning export among agricultural commodities after coffee, according to the country’s third National Development Plan.

At the time, fish and fish products were responsible for about six percent of Uganda’s export earnings, majorly sourced from Lake Victoria, the country’s largest water body that it shares with neighbouring Kenya and Tanzania. But by June 2023, according to data from Uganda Revenue Authority (URA), Nile Perch exports had dropped to eighth place in commercial value, and commodities such as coffee, cocoa and wheat were more lucrative sources of export revenue for Uganda. This is indicative of a decline in fish exports driven by illegal fishing that has persisted in the country despite years of attempts to curb it.

According to the 2023 Uganda Auditor General’s report, 25 percent of all fishing gear on Lake Victoria is illegal.

Hakim Kakembo, the chairperson of the Kasensero committee against illegal fishing, reveals how steeped the landing site is in the vice. 

“This landing site began as a base for illegal fishing,” Kakembo, who has fished these waters for the past 25 years, says.

“In response to the government’s crackdown, fisherfolk are changing, but it is not easy to change a way of life,” he adds.

The use of illegal gear on the giant freshwater lake has tripled over the last 20 years. By 2021, about 30 percent of gillnets had either mesh sizes that were smaller than the legal minimum size or were constructed from synthetic ‘monofilament’ fibres—both of which are prohibited due to their ability to catch juvenile fish, according to a Nile Perch Fisheries Management Plan of the Lake Victoria Fisheries Organisation, an institution of the East African Community that coordinates the management and development of fisheries resources in the region.

This is despite the presence of the military on the lake to enforce legal fishing practices. High costs both of legal fishing gear and of military surveillance, along with the increasing demand for immature fish in the region, continue to drive illegal fishing practices in Lake Victoria and its environs.

Kakembo reckons that illegal fishing appeals to fisherfolk due to a perception that it is cheap and brings in quick money, despite the risks.


Corruption concerns

Data from the Uganda Prisons Services indicates that the number of convicts completing sentences for illegal fishing spiked in 2021/2022, but decreased in 2022/2023. The adoption of plea-bargaining to reduce case backlog in the Judiciary per the 2019/2020 Ministerial Policy Statement of the Ministry of Justice and Constitutional Affairs partly accounts for the temporary increase in convictions.

Operations by the Uganda Peoples’ Defence Forces (UPDF) Fisheries Protection Unit—the arm of the Uganda army mandated to enforce legal fishing—began in 2017. In fact, FPU enforcement operations have intensified. For instance, 1,035 enforcement operations were conducted in the 2021/2022 fiscal year. 

This militarised enforcement regime contrasts with fishing communities’ traditional symbiotic relationship with the water body, an important part of local cultures and religion.

“The lake is protected by Mukasa, the god,” says Rashid Musoke, a local fish trader in Kasensero.

“Historically, there were no guns on the lake, but now everywhere you go, there are guns,” he adds.

But according to Fred Kwizera, the chairperson of Kasensero Landing Site, military enforcement has lapsed over the years “because of Ugandan politics,” allowing the resurgence of illegal fishing. Such proponents of military-led fisheries management in Uganda have had to contend with the unsustainably costly nature of an approach that is prone to escalating violent conflicts. 

Initially deployed in February 2017, the FPU was dogged by allegations of violence and rights abuses that led to its suspension by Parliament in 2019. 

Speaking at a town hall meeting convened by Wizarts Foundation in Kalangala District in December 2018, Capt Nathan Abaho of the FPU said the unit’s alleged highhandedness was in response to violence by offenders. 

According to data from the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data Project, which tracks data on conflicts around the world, fish-related conflicts have generally increased in Uganda in the last decade, with a high in 2021. Violence against civilians accounted for almost half of the cases.

Under a new chain of command, the FPU undertook 540 enforcement operations per the Agriculture ministry’s vote performance report for the first quarter of the FY2022/2023, a 47.8 percent decrease from the previous year and the lowest since FY2020/2021.

It is in this context that registered cases of fish-related crimes in the islands rose or declined in proportion to the intensity of the enforcement operations on the lakes. For instance, court data from the Chief Magistrate’s Court in Kalangala shows that the number of cases registered increased from 31 in 2019 to 390 in 2022.

However, in nine other courts, mostly located near water bodies in Uganda, illegal fishing cases have generally declined from a high in 2019, although they rose again slightly in 2021, mirroring the intensity of the enforcement operations by FPU in this period.

A longtime resident of Kalangala only identified as Katongole says “the army was [initially] deployed at a time when the fish stocks were really low. Subsequently, due to the clampdown on illegal fishing, the fish stocks recovered.”

No respite for the poor

In the first four years of the military intervention, high costs of this surveillance, especially fuel to power the army’s boats, gradually reduced the intensity of FPU operations per its eight senior commanders whose views were captured in the National Fisheries Resources Research Institute’s 2023 study. As such, sustaining the latest FPU intervention and its gains presents a familiar challenge that has impacted earlier government interventions to regulate fishing.

A Fisheries Protection Unit soldier burns illegal fishing gear at Ddimo Landing Site on October 23, 2023. Nearly eight out of every 10 fishermen and vessels are operating illegally on Uganda waters despite the government deploying soldiers to enforce compliance.  PHOTO | ANTONIO KALYANGO. 

In the past, due to low pay, “state agents have looked at fisherfolk as an extra source of income, food and fuel,” Charles Asowa-Okwe asserted in his 1994 study, ‘Capital and Conditions of Fisher Labourers on Lakes Kyoga and Victoria Canoe Fisheries.’

Such extortion speaks to recent encounters that Joseph Ssenyonga, a fisherman in Kasensero, has had with the FPU on the lake.

“They didn’t deploy the army on the lake for conservation purposes; they came to plunder. When they catch you with immature fish, they confiscate it and thereafter sell it off,” Ssenyonga says.

Ssenyonga’s account is echoed by another fisherman in Kalangala, who revealed that the law enforcers “can ask for 120 litres of fuel, which they have used to bring you in.”

While some local residents insist the military presence on the lake is a crime deterrent, others like Nakimbugwe (only name provided), a food seller at Kasensero, beg to differ.

“People report stolen boat engines and call for help, but they say ‘we can’t come, we don’t have fuel.’ But doesn’t the government that deployed them not pay them?” Nakimbugwe wonders.

Afumba Ssemakula, the Kalangala District chairperson, says some officials collect bribes from fishers to sustain their operations.

Lt Col Lauben Ndifula, the FPU spokesperson, denies these allegations and attributes them to smear campaigns by illegal fishers who have been caught on the wrong side of the law. The army typically sends, he tells Saturday Monitor, “a team on the ground to do an investigation and once that is found to be true, that person will be punished. And the fishers at the landing sites have the contacts of the CO [commanding officer], they can call him or her directly.” 


Most cases dismissed

Eva Kwesiga, the Kalangala Resident District Commissioner (RDC), suggests that recent changes in the command of FPU sought to address community concerns about the military’s approach to law enforcement on the lake. In November, President Museveni appointed Lt Col Mercy Tukahirwa to replace Lt Col Dick Kaija as head of the unit.

“The fisherfolk decried the fact that there was no equality before the law, and they were right. So I want to thank President Museveni for changing the chain of command on the lake; we now have Lt Col Mercy,” Kwesiga says.

Still, many fishers remain wary of militarised law enforcement. One fisherman in Kalangala, who preferred anonymity, said this past year, the previous commander made numerous arrests, mainly of poor people. This fisherman says Lt Col Tukahirwa is now trying to arrest the big players, but there is scepticism that she will achieve much, as the big players reportedly have ties to the government.

Data tracking about 1,500 court cases registered in nine local courts from 2018 to 2023 that we obtained from the court data registry reveals that the rate of convictions for illegal fishing, mostly fishing with illegal nets and catching immature fish, was about 58 percent in 2021, reducing to 36 percent in 2022 and further to 16 percent in 2023. At the same time, the rate of cases dismissed increased from 25 percent in 2021 to 76 percent in 2023–the vast majority in Koome court, one of the courts in the islands. A significant number of these cases were dismissed due to a lack of prosecution.

This data represents less than half of overall fish-related court cases in Uganda over this period, However, specific case data from courts, including Kalangala and the Standards, Utilities and Wildlife Court was not provided by press time.

However, overall statistics from the Standards, Utilities and Wildlife Court based in Kampala shows that 86 percent of the court’s 1,606 cases registered ended in convictions: a much higher conviction rate than at local lakeside courts, including Koome, Lake Katwe, Lukaya and Nakasongola. 

A fisherman in Kalangala, who prefers anonymity, recounts his experiences of this criminal justice system.

“I used to be a fisherman and owned two boats, which were confiscated and burnt. I was also detained for three years. They found me with illegal fishing nets. That is how I lost everything,” he says.

In 2022, Uganda passed a new Fisheries and Aquaculture Act that installed more stringent penalties for illegal fishing.

Section 96(6a) of the Act stipulates that any person who manufactures, sells, imports or stocks illegal gear, including nets with prohibited mesh sizes, is liable on conviction to a fine not exceeding Shs20m ($5,300) or imprisonment not exceeding three years or both.

Between 2021 and 2023, average fine amounts for fish-related crimes more than doubled, according to InfoNile analysis of court data. But the number of fines given decreased by more than 40 percent in 2022, and the average prison sentence (about four to six months) did not change significantly since the law was passed.

According to the 2023 Auditor General’s report, limited funding, inadequate vehicles, propeller engines, standard boats and understaffing limit the acquisition and collection of adequate evidence for prosecution, which results in delayed commencement of court proceedings. The audit recommended increased funding to facilitate the investigation of fish-related crimes.

Illegal trade, theft up

It is against this background that reports of cross-border crime, and in particular the theft of boat engines, remain a major concern, as Fred Kwizera recounts.

Fisheries Protection Unit soldiers transport fishermen who were allegedly caught illegal fishing in Mayuge District last year. PHOTO | DENIS EDEMA. 

“Because we are at the border with Tanzania, robbers from Tanzania target us. They rob us of our boat engines and nets. An engine costs Shs9m ($2,375), but a thief can steal 10 of those at once and flee,” he said.

William Lugadya, the vice chairperson of Kasensero Landing Site, says at least 25 engines have been stolen this year alone. 

“This is not a new phenomenon. I have been here for 20 years and engines have always been stolen. The thieves are from Tanzania. They don’t use arms, but rather sticks and pangas and take our engines,” he said.

These accounts were difficult to verify, as official records are scanty. Further, consultations with the Tanzania Fisheries Research Institute and Tanzania Fishermen Association in Mwanza were inconclusive. 

The theft of engines has come to the attention of Kwesiga, the Kalangala RDC, as it lays bare the deficiencies of law enforcement agencies in Uganda amid cross-border crime.

The Marine Unit serves under the Uganda Police Force, whereas the FPU serves under the UPDF. Police patrols the land and water, enforcing regulations, apprehending suspects of illegal fishing and providing security on the lake. However, since 2017, the FPU has largely usurped the police’s mandate.

The lucrative cross-border trade in immature fish, despite the military presence on the lake, further points at weak enforcement, according to Kwizera.

“There is a net called a monofilament, locally known as ‘manyala.’ It is made in China. But weak enforcement by Uganda means it is imported and sold and used to catch immature fish called makayabu, which go to DRC. One kilo costs Shs2,000. Five to six such fish make a kilo,” he says.

Immature fish

Immature Nile Perch, which is also known as kikwara, is a household delicacy in Kivu and many other parts of DRC. It is consumed by all social classes and the price ranges from $1 (Shs3,600) to $10 (Shs37,000). Uganda is a major supplier of immature fish to the DRC.

“They cut makayabu, salt it, then load it on a Fuso truck. They take a truck with 10 tonnes to DRC,” Kwizera adds.

The data on this trade is scanty, and likely trade volumes are under-reported to evade the authorities, although collusion cannot be ruled out.

“It must be said that without connections within the government, no one can take such fish to DRC,” Kwizera asserts.

The lack of harmony in the legal framework concerning the management of fisheries resources in the East African region enables the trade of immature fish, Lt Lauben Ndifula, the FPU spokesperson, asserts: “You find Tanzania and Kenya have different laws compared to our country Uganda. You may find another country like DRC where immature fish is allowed then here, it is not allowed.”

The demand for immature fish is not restricted to the DRC as the local market in Uganda is also substantial, particularly among low-income households, says Hassan Ssekindu, a fisherman at Kasensero.

“They should let us, the poor, use the 5 and 4.5-inch nets [114-127 millimetre] that we can afford; then we can make a living, because there is a lot of demand. Otherwise, fish is for the rich and the poor can’t afford to eat it,” he says.

Dr Winnie Nkalubo, the director of research at the National Fisheries Resources Research Institute, clarifies why legal nets must have a minimum hole size of seven inches, which are used to catch Nile Perch of about 50-85 centimetres in length.

“Science tells us that by the time it is 50 centimetres in length, the fish has laid some eggs. Why not above 85? Because such larger fish lay the eggs that replenish the fish stock.”

Misinformation contributes to a lack of awareness by fishermen of the scientific reasons why they should not catch young fish. Fisher Joseph Ssenyonga remains unconvinced that harvesting immature Nile Perch compromises the replenishing of the fish stock.

“Tanzanians prefer to catch immature fish in Ugandan waters because it is the mature ones that reproduce, and yet here, the immature ones are not to be touched. What will produce the young?” he says.


Haves, have-nots

In his book, Asowa-Okwe argues that the commercialisation of fish production by the colonial government and continuation of this economy by successive postcolonial governments undermined traditional artisanal fish production, creating a class divide between fishers who could own the means of production such as legal boats and fishing gear and those who hired out their labour to this capitalist class. The hired labourers invariably remain impoverished and exploited in this system, given their negligible share of the profits from their labour. In this context, quick gains from illegal fishing are hard to turn down, Asowa-Okwe writes.

RDC Kwesiga recounts a time when she received calls from fisherfolk detained at the Buganda Road Central Police Station.

“It was Sunday, 2pm, yet they had not eaten since Friday when they had been taken into custody … They were hired to work for someone else, who they named, so I asked, ‘why weren’t these named persons called to give statements as they own the boats and the nets?’” the civil servant says.

Three quarters of vessels and fishers in the 13 districts sorrounding Lake Victoria are still unlicensed despite FPU law enforcement operations, per the 2023 Auditor General’s report. Licences are issued in the names of boat owners rather than the fishers they hire to work on the boats. Consequently, when the fishers commit offences, they can simply switch boats and elude capture, and in this way repeat offenders go unchecked.

The exploitation of fishers is compounded by the fishers’ inability to organise collectively, unlike the capitalist class that owns the means of production. Current attempts to organise through groups like the Association of Fishers and Lake Users of Uganda (AFALU), a civil society group which was consulted on the Fisheries Act 2022, are not without contradictions.

Fishermen look on as soldiers embark on an operation against illegal fishing gear at Kayei Landing Site on Lake Kyoga on December 18, 2022. PHOTO |  BILL OKETCH

“We have AFALU; they hide behind collaborating with the army for the greater good yet they are actually destructive themselves. I have written to them directing that they should no longer operate in Kalangala soliciting money from fisherfolk,” RDC Kwesiga offers.

In response, a source from AFALU denies any wrongdoing and says they are committed to representing the interests of its more than 10,900 subscribing members comprising boat owners and fishers commonly known as baria, in the management of fisheries resources. As such, AFALU is seeking a swift resolution to the spat with the RDC.

Amid the struggles, some local communities in Kasensero and Kalangala are increasingly abandoning fishing for maize farming, which is less capital intensive. This trend is likely to continue provided remedies if the issues in the fishing industry are not prioritised. One such solution proposed by the Auditor General could be an import substitution strategy for fishing gear that is premised on government support for local producers to manufacture affordable legal gear and discourage illegal gear use.

Imported illegal nets

Between 2016 and 2020, there was a significant decline in the use of illegal fishing gear in Uganda, notably a 50 percent decline in the use of monofilament gill nets as per the 2023 Auditor General’s report, which attributes this improvement to the deployment of the army’s Fisheries Protection Unit (FPU). However, a reversal of these gains is highly likely due to the fact that monofilament nets, locally known as manyala, are low-cost and easy to replace, as per a 2023 study by the National Fisheries Resources Research Institute.

Yasin Sentamu, the chairperson of Kasensero Kagera, Cell 10, reckons that the low capital outlay and quick return on investment put these illegal nets in high demand.

Demand for illegal nets like manyala is due to the fact that they are affordable substitutes to the legal nets that are too expensive for fishermen like Steven Jjuko in Kalangala.

“The government should lower the taxes on legal nets to make them more affordable because they are too costly, so illegal fishing persists,” he says. “A legal net costs between Shs125,000 and Shs150,000.”

Fishing gear in Uganda is largely imported. Fishing nets, for example, are typically imported from China, according to data from UN Comtrade, the United Nations global trade data platform.  Once, fishing gear was locally made by artisans, but it started being largely imported when the colonial government commercialised fish production for the global market. 

According to UN Comtrade, Uganda’s official imports of HS Code 560811 (“Twine, cordage or rope; fishing nets, made up of man-made textile materials”) have decreased from a high in 2017.

But official data on illegal products is questionable. The 2023 Auditor General report also finds there is inadequate control of the influx of illegal gear due to poor coordination between the FPU, the Uganda Revenue Authority and local governments. Lt Col Lauben Ndifula, the FPU spokesperson, attributes this phenomenon to profiteering on the part of the local business community.

“We still have those businessmen who have a personal interest to smuggle the illegalities into our country. And because they [nylon monofilament nets] are cheap, the fishing community yearns to buy those cheap nets.”

“In Bugolobi [in Kampala], I witnessed bales of illegal fishing nets being stocked. How do they enter the country? Under the noses of URA?” says RDC Kwesiga, alluding to the challenges the tax body faces in enforcing regulations against the import of illegal nets given the porous borders.

The cloak and dagger trade in illegal fishing nets is shrouded in secrecy and intrigue, as Raman Ssemakula, a local fisher, reveals.

“That illegal net can’t be bought by any ordinary person. If I showed where to get it, you still would not get it,” he says. “Only a person involved in illegal fishing can get you access, and they will ask you for money, tell you to wait because it is not there in the shop. Suddenly someone on a boda boda [motorcycle] will appear and hand you a kaveera [plastic bag]. Then you will return to the landing site, and you will pay your leaders for permission to cast the net in the lake. This doesn’t stop them from confiscating it later, and you can’t report it.”

Ssemakula believes the trade in illegal fish is organised to exploit the fishers who have nowhere to go.