Chapter #6 of Making a Difference with SANGO-Kenya.

You would think a morning by the lake would be a pastoral, relaxing activity, with lake views, fishermen, and a slight breeze.

You would think.

That is what I thought when we headed to the village by Lake Victoria, not far from Kisumu in Kenya.

I pictured something like a Greek fisherman’s village: little boats, a village facing the shore, perhaps restaurants.

The experience was quite different and started the minute I cracked the car door open. One is instantly attacked by the smell of deceased fish of industrial strength, rarely encountered. Many dozens of generations of dead fish are involved. Years back, it was almost a physical force pushing back on us.

Yes… There are little fishermen’s boats floating by the shore. The lake has lake attributes like water, waves, and views that provide some respite. But this is not a joyous scene, far from it.

As far as the eye can see, there are stretches of land covered in what, from afar, looks like little dry leaves, and roaming through them are throngs of unsmiling women bent over and performing a task. The same task.

In fact, these are not leaves but what was hauled up in the fishermen’s nets. A combination of organic matter and little fish (Called Omena). The fishermen’s main goal is to catch large Tilapia fish for which Lake Victoria is famous. What comes up in the nets beside the Tilapia is this mucky combination.

The task is to separate the Omena fish from the organic matter. The fish will be sold in the market as food, and the organic matter will be sold as chicken feed.

To do this there is an army of bent over women with little brooms who separate the two and collect the fish into piles.

For a day’s work of this bent-over chore, they receive the equivalent of one Dollar.

Some of the women have children with them, or babies. Of course, no men were seen doing that particular job.

The sign warning of crocodiles completes the picture. We have heard stories of people wandering close to the bank and being eaten by crocodiles.

And yes… another story we heard from the farmers. It is said that when a local girl gets really hungry, hopeless, and desperate, trying to feed herself and her family, her last resort is to go down to the lake and present herself to the fishermen. For a sexual favor, they always have a meal available. This brings up the topics of teen pregnancy and AIDS. But I think I’ll leave that for now, as this has been gloomy enough.

I’m sure it isn’t as bleak as all that. The lake, after all, provides employment and sustenance to a substantial group of people.

Perhaps my impression was formed by the contrast between the setting, the expectations, and what we encountered during the visit.

I will make sure to visit the lake on future trips and maybe improve my impressions.

Next… People-watching in Kisumu. A photographer’s perspective.