Rufisque, Senegal

When fish began to disappear from Senegal’s coastline, Ibrahima Mar first lost his livelihood, then his own son, and with them, an entire way of life that had sustained his family for generations.

Industrial and illegal fishing, among other factors, have contributed to the decline of fish stocks in the region, depriving this West African country of an essential source of income and nutrition.

“The fish are being plundered more and more,” explains the 55-year-old fisherman.

From his fishing village in Rufisque, on the outskirts of Dakar, Ibrahima says that all the fish “are taken as we pass by. So, there’s no hope left…”

Bottom trawlers and industrial vessels, which generally fly the Senegalese flag but whose owners’ true nationality is difficult to determine, ship their catches abroad.

“If you dig a little deeper, the actual ownership” of the vessels in Senegalese waters belongs to Spaniards, Italians, French, Chinese, or Turks, among others, explains Bassirou Diarra, Senegal country director for the Environmental Justice Foundation (EJF).

“Not only is there a shortage of fish for the Senegalese market and for food security, but the money that should be flowing back into the national economy isn’t coming back either,” the activist emphasizes

According to him, illegal practices include fishing in restricted areas, the use of non-compliant nets, and failure to respect marine protected areas.

– Collapse –

A 2025 EJF report highlights that 57% of fish stocks exploited in Senegal are in a state of collapse.

Faced with the disappearance of resources, more and more fishermen are clandestinely attempting the perilous Atlantic migration route to Europe.

Among them were two of Ibrahima Mar’s sons.

The first made it across. A few years later, his younger brother, then about 17 years old, called his father: he was in a pirogue carrying 140 people en route to Spain.

The family waited for news for days, then weeks. He never reappeared.

Along the 700 kilometers of Senegalese coastline, the ubiquitous colorful wooden pirogues bear witness to a vital industry: more than 82,000 people work in fishing, representing about 2% of the working population, according to the latest census.

“What a pirogue used to catch in two months, that same pirogue now has to fish for more than six to seven months to catch the same amount,” laments Mamadou Diouf Sène, president of the Rufisque Fishing Wharf Revenue Commission.

From cart drivers to ice sellers, fishmongers, and processors, a multitude of professions depend on the sector.

On the dock, Fatou Seck, a 39-year-old fishmonger, sells sea bream, white carp, and mullet.

“Times are really tough,” says this mother of six. For “many of us (…) this work is our only source of income to feed our children.”

The increase in the number of artisanal fishermen, drawn to a profession that requires little training, has also contributed to the decline of fish stocks. Estimates of the number of canoes range from 12,000 to 19,000.

Added to this is climate change, which is driving West Africa’s small pelagic fish—small species that often live in schools and are traditionally fished by the Senegalese—northward.

– “Far West” –

Fish stocks have been declining for about forty years, but artisanal fishermen truly became aware of the problem when small pelagic fish, such as sardinella and horse mackerel, began to disappear about fifteen years ago.

The idea that Senegal might one day have to import fish—a product central to its identity and a major natural resource—“is catastrophic,” Ibrahima Mar exclaims.

Cheikh Salla Ndiaye of the Directorate of Fisheries Protection and Surveillance believes that surveillance at sea is “very difficult,” adding that the agency receives assistance from the navy and the air force.

Ibrahima recently boarded a Greenpeace vessel with four other fishermen to learn how to better identify and report illegal fishing.

“In the past, we compared the high seas to the Wild West, because it was impossible to know what was really going on there,” says Sophie Cooke, a fishing vessel analyst at Greenpeace, from the ship’s deck.

But new technologies—including tracking devices and satellite radar, as well as smartphones that fishermen can use to take photos and pinpoint the location of vessels—are changing the game, she adds.

These are tools that Ibrahima Mar plans to introduce to his community.

With his two sons who were fishermen now gone from home—one in Spain and the other lost at sea—the decline in fish stocks is for him a personal tragedy as much as an economic one.

As for his third son, he has decided to enroll him in a training center: “He’s learning metal welding.”

Humaniterre with AFP