On a shady corner of the beach in the south of Abidjan, men are playing cards: all are fishermen and were forced to stop their activity in July to respect a government measure of biological rest of fish. "We don't do anything, we don't do anything at all," says Patrick Ange Yao, an angler for more than twenty-two years. "We're here, we're talking," but "we don't even know where to go, we're going around in circles," he continues, looking around.
The Ivorian Ministry of Animal and Fisheries Resources has established several biological rest periods for both artisanal and industrial fishing, to protect resources and increase fish production.
Like the majority of men in Aleya, a village wedged between the sea and the city, Patrick Ange Yao comes from a family of fishermen and cannot imagine doing anything else. He thus respects the tradition of the Alladian community, from which he comes and which inhabits part of the coast of Côte d'Ivoire. And the families of Aleya depend only on that. "We fish, our wives sell fish, so when it's blocked it's blocked," remarks Patrick Ange Yao.
To survive these days, women buy and sell frozen fish. "If we sell the boxes [of frozen fish], we earn nothing," laments Gladys Donco, wife of a fisherman and trader for thirty-two years. “Between 2,000 and 3,000 [CFA francs, between 3 and 4.50 euros] per day”, or 60,000 CFA francs (some 90 euros) for the month, specifies her friend Alice Koffi.
Fish further and further
A fruitful month of fishing between July and December, sea bream, carp and mostelle can bring in up to 500,000 CFA francs (about 760 euros), almost nine times more. The sum is divided between the fishermen, usually five, who pocket a salary higher than the Ivorian minimum wage, set at 75,000 CFA francs (114 euros). "We were planning to catch up" with June, the peak of the rainy season, which makes access to the sea difficult, says Roland Djété, another fisherman.
A few meters further, other fishermen are sitting on canoes. With their backs to the sea, they wave their mending needles to repair nets, while a huge tuna boat taunts them on the horizon. These industrial vessels will suffer the same fate early next year. "We are fathers, we don't know how we are going to feed the children, pay for the house", worries, still stunned, Kouamé Benjamin Kouakou, some white hair and drawn facial features.
And no way to break the rules. Patrols "come by boat from 11 p.m. every evening", noted Ismaël Emmanuel Maniga. However, the impact of artisanal fishing on fish reproduction is much less than that of industrial fishing.
“You can get up to 500 or 600 kilos” of fish per multi-day catch, during “the good times”, while trawlers recover several tonnes over the same period, says Patrick Ange Yao. "Those who fish with nets" pick up "the little fish," which don't have time to grow and reproduce, and "it takes at least three months for the fish to come back" after they pass, he explains. he, referring to the sometimes illegal practices of Chinese ships since 2010.
Artisanal fishermen are forced to reach more distant areas, "up to the border with Ghana" or "Liberia", adds Roland Djété, and "100 kilometers from the coast", specifies Patrick Yao, sometimes after a full day of travel, non-stop.
Less visible than the giant trawlers, global warming also impacts fishing. According to the World Bank, the warming of the oceans and the carbon dioxide they absorb will "drop" catches "by more than 40% in Côte d'Ivoire (...) by 2100".
