The boat cuts through the green-brown water of Lake Turkana in the early morning. The sun is already strong, and the fishermen are quiet as they head out towards the nets they set the day before.
Somewhere beyond the open water lies the Ethiopian border.
Inside the boat are five fishermen from a local fishing group: Lotome Ereng, Emase Paul, Dominique Napeto, James Lapur and Charles Lapur. They have come to see what the lake has given them.
One by one, the nets are pulled from the water. Most of the fish caught in them are dogfish – the most common catch here, often exported or used as animal feed because of their many bones. Larger fish bring better prices. Nile perch is more valuable and usually larger.
On a good day, the group can catch up to 2,000 fish. On a bad day, only a few hundred. Most days fall somewhere in between.
For the five men in the boat, fishing is daily work. But the lake is not only a source of income. It is also part of a borderland shaped by conflict, climate change and shifting access to resources.
Lotome Ereng (37) leads the group. Emase Paul (30) is the secretary of the group. One carries the grief of losing relatives in a massacre linked to cross-border conflict, the other narrates how fishing, savings and a new boat have helped him support his family after that same violence changed their lives.
The fishing group has 15 members in total: eight men and seven women. The men go out on the lake, while the women help when the fish are brought back to shore.
The group has existed for some years, and today its members have become part of the EU funded SPREAD project’s local savings activities and have received fishing equipment and a larger boat from the same project.
For decades, pastoralist communities like the Turkana in Kenya and the Dassanech in Ethiopia have lived with cycles of tension over livestock, fishing grounds and access to scarce resources.
In recent years, changes in the landscape have added new pressure. Flooding from the Omo River in Ethiopia has pushed more water into the lake. Land once used for grazing has been covered by water. Homes have been flooded, people displaced, and new fishing areas created.
For fishermen, the change has brought both opportunity and risk. More water can mean more space to fish. But it has also created new disputes over who can use the expanded lake, and increased tensions around fishing nets, boats and equipment.
Loss on the Lake
Lotome Ereng has been fishing for 16 years. Like many Turkana men, his livelihood is not tied to the lake alone. He also keeps livestock: three cows, 19 goats and nine sheep. Fishing brings income, while livestock remains central to family life, status and marriage traditions.
In February 2025, Lotome lost two relatives in a massacre linked to conflict between communities on the Kenyan and Ethiopian sides of the border. Around 40 people were killed.
“During the massacre, two of my relatives, the sons of my brother, were killed,” he says and adds “that has really affected me and the family.”
The two young men who lost their lives, Lokallen and Ikidur, were in their early twenties.
The violence was part of a longer cycle of theft and retaliation around fishing equipment, livestock and access to resources. According to Lotome, tensions can begin with stolen nets, stolen animals or disputes over who has the right to use parts of the lake.
“The cause of these killings is mostly theft of livestock,” he says. “There is also fighting for scarce resources. And there is theft of fishing nets.”
In the attack that killed Lotome’s relatives, he says the young men were fishing when armed men came as revenge for an earlier killing.
“They just found these young men fishing without guns,” he says. “They fired at them. They killed many of them.”
After the massacre, the risk of revenge was high. Lotome was selected to join a peace meeting in Ethiopia. He was chosen because he had lost close relatives and because he was chairperson of the fishing group.
“I was taken to Ethiopia so that we could join the team from the Ethiopian side,” he says. “They presented me as one of the people who had lost loved ones.”
He says he was angry after the killings, but the meeting helped him step away from retaliation.
“I was very angry at the moment,” he says. “But after going for the peace meeting, I received words of encouragement.”
The meeting did not remove the loss. But it gave him another way to respond.
“We were advised not to retaliate,” he says. “Just to leave everything and continue with life.” Lotome said that they decided to take the advise. To choose peace.
For Lotome, the lake is a source of income – but it is also a place where grief, conflict and survival meet.
When the Lake Changes
The changing lake has brought other dangers too. As water from the Omo River has expanded parts of Lake Turkana, areas that were once dry land have become water. This has created new fishing grounds, but also new disputes over access.
“People are competing for this extension of the lake,” Lotome says. “If you have this portion of the lake here, you assume that it is yours.”
The flooding has also carried floating reeds and water hyacinths into Kenyan waters. According to Lotome, animals have come with them: crocodiles, snakes and even a leopard. The reeds can form floating mats, or small islands, that provide cover for crocodiles and snakes. Som of them may even support small mammals. The phenomenon is known as rafting. It is, however, extremely rare to see leopards catching a ride on a reed mat.
But that is what happened says Lotome.
“The leopard was carried by the reeds from the side of Ethiopia to the side of Kenya. That is one of the negative impacts of climate change,” he explains.
The leopard reached an area close to where the community lives. People called for help, and Lotome was one of those who responded. When he went to help kill the animal, it attacked him. He was injured and later admitted to hospital.
For the fishermen, the arrival of crocodiles has also made the lake more dangerous. Most of those exposed are fishermen, because they are the ones who move through the water every day.
Climate change has therefore changed more than the level of the lake. It has changed where people fish, where animals move, how communities relate to one another and how safe it feels to work.
Emase: From Student to Fisherman
Emase Paul (30) serves as secretary of the fishing group. He lives near Lake Turkana with his wife, Dorcas, and their three children: Fabin (9), Harvin (5), and Loveness, who is one and a half years old.
He has studied purchasing and supply, hoping one day to work in logistics, procurement or government service. But family responsibilities gradually pushed him away from school. His father became ill and later died, and Emase began carrying more of the responsibility for his younger siblings and wider family.
After the massacre in February 2025, the pressure increased. Three of his relatives disappeared after the attack, including his younger brother. For several days, the family did not know whether they were alive.
“After the incident, a lot of problems arose in the family,” Emase says. “My mother was eaten by the story of the massacre.”
He was still recovering from a motorbike accident when he travelled towards the Ethiopian border to look for them. Rumours said some people had survived and were being held on the other side.
“I was sick at that time. I was not fully recovered,” he says. “But I went there to confirm.”
The three relatives eventually returned. They were alive, but they had lost their boat, nets and confidence to return to fishing. Before the attack, Emase says, the family had managed to feed itself. Afterwards, the burden shifted.
“Since that day, it has really affected the family,” he says. “They stopped going back to the normal life of fishing that used to feed their families.”
He had fished before, but only occasionally. After the attack, fishing became central to how he supported the wider family.
“I changed my lifestyle from continuing my studies to fishing so that I could help the family,” he says.
A Boat, a Savings Group and More Control
Before the group received a larger boat and nets through SPREAD, Emase used a smaller boat. It was limited how far he could go in the small boat, especially when the lake was rough. The new boat changed that.
“This one has helped us a lot because it has an engine,” he says. “We can move longer distances and collect fish.”
With the small boat, Emase says he could earn around 15,000 Kenyan shillings in a good month. Now, through the group, he can earn roughly twice that. The additional income has helped him buy five goats, build a toilet near his home and begin improving the family’s living conditions.
“I must have options in life,” he says. “Fishing, and also livestock.”
The group has also changed how he handles pressure. Members save together, share ideas and support each other when problems arise. For Emase, this matters almost as much as the boat itself.
“Being part of the group has helped me a lot,” he says. “There are things we share in the group – ideas for business, encouragement.”
Through the savings group, members can borrow money or receive support in emergencies. “I feel strong because I am staying with community members,” Emase says. “When I am down, I can go to the village savings and loan association. I can borrow money. I can get help from the group.”
He still hopes to buy his own boat one day – not to leave the group, but to give his family another source of income. His hope is that some of the relatives who stopped fishing after the massacre will eventually return.
“I want them to come close again so that we can support the family together,” he says.
Dialogue After Violence
Emase has also taken part in dialogue meetings between Turkana communities in Kenya and Dassanech communities from Ethiopia. As a youth leader and member of the fishing group, he became involved in peace discussions after the massacre.
“After the massacre, I was very, very angry,” he says. “But in the dialogue meeting, we were advised to cease the gunfire.”
For him, peace is not only about avoiding more deaths. It is also about livelihood. When there is conflict, fishermen cannot safely reach the best fishing grounds near the Omo River delta, where fish are more abundant.
“When there is conflict between the two communities, there is no good catch of fish,” he says.
He now sees himself as someone who has to set an example. “I am one of the leaders,” he says. “So I must bring peace between the two communities.”
Emase still hopes to return to school one day, possibly to study disaster management, so he can work with the challenges his community faces.
“I want to have the skills to bring peace and also mitigate the impact of climate change here,” he says.
Fishing – the available option
Other members of the group describe fishing as the clearest option available to them.
Dominique Napeto (30) has been in the group for seven years. He fishes every day.
Since becoming part of the SPREAD project, he says his situation has improved:
My life has changed. I can now at least have something in my pocket.
James Lapur, 21, joined the group two years ago.
He never went to school and sees fishing as the main way to earn money.
If I stay home, I will get nothing.
His dream is to eventually start his own and earn a stable income for his family.
Later, he hopes his children might take over fishing while he turns more towards livestock.
For Charles Lapur, 41, the group’s boat has brought greater independence.
He began fishing after leaving school in 1997 and joined the group in 2024.
We are not dependent on others.
“Before, it was not our own boat,” he says.
“Now we are free with our own boat. We can go when we want.”
A Gradual Change
On Lake Turkana, the fishermen still live with uncertainty. Climate change affects the lake, grazing land, homes and the movement of animals. Conflict across the border can quickly affect where people fish and whether they feel safe. The memory of the massacre has not disappeared.
The new boat, fishing nets, savings group and dialogue meetings have not removed those risks. But they have given the fishermen more control over their work and more ways to respond when life becomes unstable.
For Lotome, dialogue helped prevent another round of revenge after the killing of his relatives.
For Emase, the group has made it possible to support his family, invest in goats and think again about the future.
Each morning, the fishermen return to the lake. Some go because they have fished for decades. Others go because there are few alternatives. Together, they cast their nets in a place where survival depends on reading both the water and the tensions around it.
About SPREAD
‘SPREAD: Peace & Resilience’ (SPREAD) is a project designed to prevent and mitigate conflicts, reduce and manage the risks associated with natural disasters, and build resilience within cross-border communities in Ethiopia, Kenya, and South Sudan.
Objectives:
- Enhanced capacities of formal and informal cross-border stakeholders in conflict prevention and management and social cohesion building, with particular focus on women.
- Enhanced access to income generating opportunities and shared natural resources for borderlands community members.
The ‘SPREAD: Peace & Resilience’ project is funded by the European Union and the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
