Hundreds of motorised canoes decorated with swirls of green, red and blue line the beach of Fass Boye, a small fishing village in northern Senegal. The handpainted boats, known as pirogues, used to return to shore brimming with fish, residents say. But as fish populations began to ebb over the last decade, the boats assumed a new role. Instead of carrying fishers out to sea, now they take them to Spain’s Canary Islands in search of economic opportunities.
On 16 August, one such boat that had departed from Fass Boye with 101 people onboard was found drifting off the coast of Cape Verde. It held only 38 survivors.
Fass Boye residents and environmental groups blame the Senegalese government for doling out fishing permits to industrial trawlers from Asia and Europe, which they say are responsible for the decline in fish stocks.
“Foreign boats are flooding our seas, exploiting everything,” said one fisher, Lamine Diop, 25. “Nobody dares go out to sea any more because it’s a waste of gas. This is all the fault of the state.”
Diop lost brothers, uncles and some of his closest friends in the accident. “Morning and night – we were always together,” he said.
From mid-2019, people from Africa’s west coast began to set off into the Atlantic in large numbers in the hopes of reaching the Canary Islands – the closest European Union territory. Since January 2020, more than 68,000 people have successfully reached the islands, according to the International Organization for Migration. About 2,700 deaths and disappearances were recorded over the same period, though actual casualties are probably higher as crossing attempts and accidents often go unreported.
“These migrants are working in an industry that is impacted by climate change on the one hand, and by international fishing agreements on the other,” said Mamadou Touré, a member of Senegal’s climate change committee. “They have found no other way out but to turn to illegal immigration.”
Blaming Senegal’s issuance of fishing permits for illegal migration is unfounded, said Malick Sow, a communications officer for Senegal’s fishing ministry.
Of the 163 licences allocated to fishing boats, 23 are foreign vessels, all of which are French and Spanish owned, Sow said. Some licences, however, have been given to “mixed companies”, whereby Chinese, Russian and Turkish vessels partner with a Senegalese fishing enterprise that maintains at least a 51% stake in the company.
Sow acknowledged the existence of these partnerships but said he was unable to quantify them because the state considers them “companies with Senegalese rights”.
Local fishers are partially responsible for the decline in fish because many use illegal monofilament nets, which pose a great danger to fish, Sow said. They also overfish small pelagics, which they then sell to foreign companies for export, he said.
“This phenomenon is not about youth unemployment. There are tailors and mechanics who close their shops to take the pirogues,” Sow said. “If the youth want to go to Spain, how can you blame the state?”
Residents of Fass Boye say their only alternative to fishing is agriculture, but that too has become unsustainable. Cabbages, onions, turnips and potatoes used to grow readily, but desertification, heatwaves and violent winds have taken their toll on farmland.
The biggest culprit, says Touré, is sea level rise and coastal erosion, which have caused heavy soil salinisation.
Ousmane Goudiry, of the Association for Returning Migrants, has spent years trying to deter potential migrants from leaving Senegal. Despite their best efforts, he said, the youth they work with tend to leave anyway.
“In the end, we have nothing to give them, so they’re forced to leave,” he said. “It’s too difficult for them to stay and see their families unable to meet their daily needs.”
Back in Fass Boye, Codou Ndoye grieves for her nephew, Papa Diop, who died in the accident. Ndoye had raised the 25-year-old since his parents died 12 years ago.
Diop had not told her he was leaving, she said, but sent her a message that read: “I will do everything for you because it was you who raised me. You are my mother.”
Diop, a fisher, had been struggling to contribute to the household. In addition to Ndoye, he left behind two siblings and a pregnant wife.
“All I wish is that the birth goes well so that Papa’s memory can live on,” Ndoye said as she turned away to hide her tears. “I am so hurt. I don’t know what else to do or say. All that’s left to do is pray.”
El Hadj Diop, 18, another Fass Boye fisher, lost five childhood friends and an uncle in the accident. He played a video on his phone he had taken of his friends just hours before they left.
“We’re going to make it,” his friends laughed. “We have no fear.”
Diop and his friends were so close that they often shared clothes and slept in the same bed, he said. One had asked Diop to look after his fishing boat while he was gone.
“But he’s never coming back,” Diop said. “They just wanted to find a better world where they could support their parents. Now they’re gone and I cry and cry. I don’t sleep. I’m in pain. I’m really hurting.”
Despite their losses, El Hadj Diop and Lamine Diop – who are unrelated – said if fishing conditions did not improve they too would consider making the treacherous journey.
“Once I’m done mourning, if the opportunity arises, I’ll leave,” Lamine said. “Whatever the risk, even if it means dying, I’ll do it because I have no choice.”
