Several social-economic factors, including poverty, cultural practices, and competition among women who are involved in the fish trade, are often listed as variables fueling the ‘sex for fish’ practice.
According to 2022 data provided by the Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO), the global fisheries sector supports 600 million livelihoods and provides 20 per cent of the daily protein intake for 3.3 billion people. Women play a crucial role, making up 15 per cent of the harvesting workforce and 85 per cent of fish processing and marketing. In Kenya, fisheries contribute 0.7 per cent to the Gross Domestic Product (GDP).
Like in many other fishing communities, the Lake Victoria fish business is gender-divided. Men own the boats and go fishing, while women purchase the fish from them to sell at the market. In recent years, the lake’s fish population has dwindled due to overfishing, the use of inappropriate fishing gear, and environmental challenges, such as sewage and agricultural runoff.
As the number of fish has declined, the situation has led some fishermen to exploit women by demanding sex in exchange for a steady supply of fish. For many women, this is their only livelihood, and they often feel they have no choice, but to comply. The practice has led to the emergence of bartering fish for sex, creating a perfect environment for the spread of HIV/AIDS.
Recent statistics show that Nyanza, continues to lead in the number of HIV-positive cases, recording HIV-positive cases of 341,903, followed by Rift Valley with 201,689.
The number of new HIV infections in the country dropped from 34,540 to 22,154 in 2022, according to the latest findings by the National Syndemic Diseases Control Council (NSDCC).
Despite this decline, HIV remains a significant public health issue, especially in fishing communities, where the prevalence rate can be as high as 7.7 per cent, according to the Kenya Ministry of Health’s HIV Estimates report of 2018.
In the search to understand the cause of new infections in the fishing sector, the reality has been shocking.
In areas, such as Homa Bay County, women face exploitation through Jaboya, which is a Luo word for ‘sex-for-fish’ where fishermen demand sexual favours in exchange for fish. This grim reality is particularly evident at Sindo Beach.
Sandra Ayuma 42-year-old widow and mother of five, is a distressed woman. When we visited her at home, she was occupied with preparing Dagaa to sell, yet beneath her calm exterior, her heart was heavy with bitterness.
Ayuma who is HIV positive was shocked to learn that she has been sharing men with her teenage daughters whom one turned to be expectant.
In the turn of event, the man whom she felt was taking advantage of her and chose to quit the relationship, sought revenge by getting involved with her daughter.
“Learning about my daughter’s HIV status shocked me, but what hurt me to the core is when I learnt that we shared the same man. The man decided to get back at me by shamelessly sleeping with my daughter, knowing very well that he’s HIV positive,” Ayuma tearfully narrated.
She regrets allowing the man in her house, despite knowing that revenge among fishermen was so rampant.
“The problem with this business, is that you can’t retain one man, or else you will end up sleeping hungry, for you to have a steady supply of fish, one must have multiple partners so that when one does not come through, there’s a backup. This has contributed to a lot of animosity amongst the fishermen,” she reveals.
Ayuma narrates that a majority of fishermen turn against them when they decline their advances by sleeping with their teenage girls, who besides getting pregnant, also get infected. “I’m bitter because this man has not only ruined my daughter’s life, but has also left an everlasting trauma. I don’t know how to convince my daughter to start taking drugs,” she cries.
Feeling helpless, she decided to abandon the harmful tradition, but now her business is at risk of closing down as her usual suppliers of Dagaa have stopped providing the service. “At the moment, I can’t get Dagaa directly from the lake. I have to wait for those in Jaboya to receive their supply before I can buy from them, which results in lower profits compared to buying directly from the fishermen,” she explained.
She struggles to obtain the fish, because the women involved in the culture look down on her, and some are instructed by the fishermen not to sell fish to her.
For many women, such as Ayuma, parting with sexual favors in exchange for fish is a common practice. Celestine Akinyi opines that having sex with a fisherman or boat owner guarantees one getting enough stock regularly and at fairly discounted prices. “It is a trap that is hard to escape, and it gets worse when fishermen come back with little catch. Many women do it willingly because they lack options,’’ says Akinyi.
She continues, “Life has become hard. Fish stocks in the lake has declined and demand has gone high, so anything the fisherman says, I do, because I want the fish. I usually sleep with two or three fishermen in a week.”
Having grown up at Kogingo beach, she shared that she witnessed her mother engage in the practice, a trap she now finds herself caught up in with little hope of escaping soon.
She also acknowledged being aware of fishermen seeking revenge through their daughters after a failed relationship. “It’s a well-known act, and I am a victim. Fortunately, my daughter was safe. I am now more cautious in my business and would never want my daughter to face the same fate,” she said.
On the hand, Catherine Ojijo, another 42-year-old mother of four, said she was forced into the sex-for-fish trade following her husband’s death in 2022.
Catherine who was married to a fisherman at the tender age of 16, said that after nine years, her husband died, leaving her with two young children to take care of, and that is how she fell victim to the culture of trading her body for fish.
She also added that the culture of jaboya has had both social and health effects on many fishing families around Lake Victoria. “I contracted HIV through engaging in transactional sex for fish, and my daughter is also positive after being involved with the same man I had an affair with,” Catherine shared. She added; “It deeply pained me, but the damage was already done. I’ve also witnessed many families torn apart when husbands discover that their wives were involved in this practice, with the consequences often impacting their children.”
On the flip side, for women, such as Quinter Achieng, who refuses to engage in Jaboya means resilience against stigma and economic exclusion. Her decision to go against the practice has made her face a lot stigmatisation. “Here, if you don’t sleep with fishermen, expect no fish from them, the other women are also instructed not sell to us, getting a chance to buy from them is a hustle,” she said.
Achieng, a widow, said the discrimination is so severe that fellow women avoid associating with her, making it difficult for her business to thrive. “Here, it’s so easy to fall into the trap if you don’t have strong principles,” Achieng affirmed. “I’ve personally seen young families destroyed because of Jaboya, and I wouldn’t take that risk for the sake of my children.”
With the rise in cases of defilement linked to the fishing industry, Caroline Ayumbo, a teacher and paralegal from Mbita-Kasgunga Ward, has dedicated herself to providing legal aid to victims of sexual violence, especially young girls affected by the fishing industry’s darker side.
Currently, Caroline is handling nine active sexual and gender-based violence cases, most involving girls who have suffered defilement. Her work, which includes community awareness and human rights advocacy, is helping bring justice to survivors.
The economic toll of gender-based violence is staggering. The World Bank reports that GBV can cost countries up to 3.7 per cent of their GDP, more than what most countries spend on education. Meanwhile, the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) highlights that one woman or girl is killed by someone in her own family every 11 minutes.
Despite Kenya ratifying several international treaties, including the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) and the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), the violation of women’s rights in the fisheries sector persists. To combat this crisis, civil society organisations (CSOs), with support from the Embassy of Netherlands and UNDP, are training human rights defenders from grassroots communities. They’re building Gender-Based Violence Referral Pathways to ensure survivors receive the support they need to seek justice.
Caroline Ndiya, a counsellor in Homa Bay, works tirelessly to provide psychological support to survivors, offering door-to-door counselling and raising awareness about the unspoken burden of gender-based violence (GBV).
Patrick Ochongo, the chairman of the Beach Management Unit at Gateway Sindo Beach, confirmed that he is aware of the Jaboya culture. However, he stated that the issue has been managed through community sensitisation. He added that, so far, sexual and gender-based violence (SBV) still leads in reported cases in his area, followed by GBV.
He further explained that organisations, such as the Community Aid Transformation Alliance Group (CATAG) and the CSO Network have been at the forefront of addressing the root causes of Jaboya and gender-based violence. They have been building safe spaces, training human rights defenders, and promoting gender equality.
While progress is being made, achieving gender equality in the fisheries sector remains a distant goal. Advocates continue to emphasise the importance of the Sustainable Development Goals, particularly the fifth Sustainable Development Goal (SDG 5) on gender equality and SDG 8 on decent work.