Warming waters hurt Zanzibar's seaweed. But women farmers have a plan.
| Paje, Zanzibar, Tanzania
Zanzibar鈥檚 streets are serene in the dark moments before sunrise, and an amber glow tints the beach. The tide is out, and the air is fresh. A few women head to work, toting sticks on their heads and empty sacks in their hands as they walk toward the sea. They cross acres of damp white sand before reaching the warm, clear waters that shelter their farms: seaweed growing on dozens of neat, parallel ropes staked to the Indian Ocean floor.
鈥淪eaweed farming in our area is only done by women,鈥� says Mwanaisha Makame, a 20-year veteran of the business, as warm little waves lap at her long, flower-print skirt.
Ms. Makame鈥檚 family didn鈥檛 have money for higher education when she was young, so she went to the ocean to farm. These macroscopic marine algae changed her life.
Why We Wrote This
When we think of people as victims, we sometimes forget that they can also be part of the solution. Women in Zanzibar have been particularly affected by climate change, echoing a global trend. But here鈥檚 another one: Women are key to combating it, too.
鈥淚 used the money to build a house, I used the money to school my children,鈥� she says of her son and daughter, now in their early 20s. 鈥淚鈥檓 like a father.鈥�
And that鈥檚 a bold statement in Zanzibar: a semi-autonomous archipelago off the coast of Tanzania, where women typically聽have , pay, education, and decisionmaking power than the men in their homes.
Seaweed farming has enabled thousands of Zanzibari women to earn cash and climb social ladders. They are working together, bucking social norms, and attaining leadership roles in communities where their authority has long been limited. As in other parts of the world, entrepreneurship has created incremental changes in women鈥檚 lives.
But the women鈥檚 success is threatened by a changing climate, which mirrors another global trend: women are disproportionately affected by global warming. Furthermore, they鈥檙e often kept out of conversations on how to adapt to a changing planet.
In Zanzibar, a significant rise in sea temperatures is killing seaweed. Not only does that jeopardize business 鈥� it threatens the sociopolitical achievements women have made. So they are fighting back.
Here and across the world, environmental聽activists say,聽channeling women鈥檚 knowledge could help save both local economies and ecosystems. It鈥檚 a model that seaweed farmers here are putting into practice, working hand-in-hand with researchers (and each other) to help communities adapt to a changing sea 鈥� while simultaneously protecting the environment itself.
'Money power'
Years ago, 鈥渨omen used to stay indoors and wait for their husbands,鈥� says Flower Msuya, a senior researcher and seaweed expert with the University of Dar es Salaam鈥檚 Institute of Marine Sciences. Then seaweed farming presented new options.
The local industry started in the late 1980s, when two species 鈥� Eucheuma cottonii and spinosum 鈥� were imported from the Philippines. (Before that, wild seaweeds were collected for export, but the trade collapsed in the 1970s when stocks were depleted.) At first, both men and women farmed, but that soon changed. The work is hard, the pay is relatively small (though significant for women) and men sought other options. But the women stuck with it.
Today, Tanzania exports thousands of tons each year to Europe and the United States, largely for production of carrageenan, a thickener used in processed foods and cosmetics. The industry employs roughly 24,000 Zanzibaris, and the majority are women operating small-scale farms, Dr. Msuya says. 鈥淎t first their husbands were like, 鈥榃hat? How can my wife go out there?鈥� But with time, they saw that their wives 鈥� they were getting money.鈥�
And more than just money: now they have 鈥渕oney power,鈥� Msuya says, 鈥渁nd their status has completely changed.鈥� Mothers started covering the costs of their children鈥檚 school fees and uniforms. They bought food and furniture and radios. They paid their families鈥� medical bills.
That clout spread beyond the home. Seaweed farmers are often wealthier and more active in their communities than women who don鈥檛 farm. Some even travel to neighboring islands to train other women in commerce. 鈥淭hey started being business ladies,鈥� Msuya says.
It used to be that export companies set the seaweed prices; now, some women work together, building business acumen by forming groups with collective bargaining power. They buy their own equipment, like ropes, or foster new businesses selling 鈥渧alue-added鈥� products like seaweed powders, soaps, creams, and sweets 鈥� all of which earn more money than raw algae.
A steeper toll
But the business is in trouble as seaweed succumbs to the effects of warmer waters. Overall, Western Indian Ocean temperatures have Celsius in the past 30 years, and are still rising.
In the past, surface waters never exceeded about 88 degrees 鈥� the upper edge of optimal for seaweed growth 鈥� but shallow-water temperatures now stretch beyond 98 degrees, Msuya says. The warmth creates conditions ideal for plant diseases like ice-ice, which stresses the algae and makes them susceptible to bacteria. At first, the seaweeds turn white at the tips. Eventually, they die. Makame estimates she鈥檚 lost 80 percent of her crop.
In an already volatile global market, where prices can swiftly drop in the face of competition from more established industries in Asia, the potential loss could devastate any entrepreneur. But here, farmers鈥� misfortunes also threaten women鈥檚 independence.
Zanzibar鈥檚 seaweed troubles put a local lens on a global picture: the economic and sociocultural burdens of climate change . In the , they walk farther, work longer and miss school to collect water. In the , increased heat and pollution are linked to pregnancy complications. And when natural disasters force communities to move, women and girls can fall prey to , as in the Philippines.
According to Women Watch, a United Nations , women are significantly more vulnerable to climate change for myriad reasons: they constitute a large percentage of the world鈥檚 poor, their livelihoods depend heavily on natural resources threatened by climate change, they dominate agricultural labor in developing countries, and social and political barriers limit their access to land, water, and other resources.
Climate change 鈥渁mplifies difficult conditions and makes them worse,鈥� says Brian La Shier, a policy associate of the Energy and Climate Program at the Washington-based Environmental and Energy Study Institute. 鈥淭his is even truer for countless women around the world 鈥� oftentimes simply because of their gender and where they live.鈥�
When natural disasters strike, it鈥檚 harder for the disadvantaged to get back on track. Say a flood destroys a home or a family鈥檚 crops. The husband may leave to search for work elsewhere 鈥� but the wife stays behind to care for the children. If she has little education or job experience, 鈥渢here鈥檚 no safety net or alternative economic paths,鈥� Mr. La Shier says. 鈥淭hese societal, economic, and environmental constraints can decide the ultimate fate of an individual, a family or even a community.鈥�
For these reasons, he says, climate policies must include women and address gender. 鈥淲omen form the economic foundations of many communities, but their contributions and expertise are often overlooked or dismissed outright.鈥�
Tapping in to women's knowledge
Yet women aren鈥檛 powerless against a changing climate. In fact, their work 鈥� whether farming, foraging, or finding potable water during droughts 鈥� can give them crucial insights about natural resources that can help their communities adapt. That鈥檚 a message made clear by the United Nations last November when it adopted a 鈥淕ender Action Plan鈥� to help ensure women are equally represented and influential compared with men in climate change decisions worldwide.
From Peru to India to Kenya, that when women are included in environmental planning and decisionmaking, community projects are better organized and longer-lasting. And that means families ultimately have better access to necessities like safe water and food, healthcare, and education.
In Zanzibar, women could play a critical role in saving the seaweed industry. And there are ample reasons to do so 鈥� including ecological sustainability. Ironically, it turns out, the victim of climate change is also a potential mitigator.
Emerging research shows that seaweed farming could temper the effects of climate change, pollution, and biodiversity loss, locally and globally. Seaweed farms serve as carbon sinks, increase oxygen levels, and help remove nutrients that lead to algal blooms. And that, in turn, fosters diverse local marine environments. Seaweed farms can also dampen wave energy, protecting shorelines from erosion 鈥� another big problem in Zanzibar.
The potential climatic benefits of seaweed farming are so great, the authors of a in the journal Frontiers in Marine Science argue for economic compensation to seaweed farmers in recognition of the role they play in combating climate change. This incentive could help expand the industry, hence women鈥檚 economic autonomy. Zanzibar represents just a fraction of the global seaweed trade: roughly 30 million tons produced annually, according to the .
Msuya is helping women grow their businesses through the Zanzibar Seaweed Cluster Initiative (ZaSCI), linking farmers to government and industry representatives to improve sales and prices for local farmers. Through ZaSCI, which Msuya heads, scientists and farmers communicate directly. When farmers have problems, they tell the scientists, who use that information in their studies. In turn, scientists share their findings with farmers.
Yet the problems 鈥� and possible benefits 鈥� of seaweed farming in Zanzibar have not received more public attention precisely because the industry is dominated by women, says Aboud Jumbe, head of policy, planning, and research at Zanzibar鈥檚 Environment Department. 鈥淚t is because of that, that the voice for social equity has been missing,鈥� he says. That bias is not uncommon: globally, women鈥檚 issues often get less attention, from to to .
鈥淚f seaweeds were grown by men,鈥� Mr. Jumbe says, 鈥渨e could be sitting here talking about something different.鈥�
Msuya isn鈥檛 deterred; she鈥檚 determined. She is working with Swedish researchers to find native seaweed species that can withstand higher temperatures. And she鈥檚 collaborating with the Scottish Association for Marine Science on a program called Global Seaweed STAR, in which Tanzanian, Philippine, and Indonesian researchers work to improve seaweed farming in developing countries. The research relies on the direct experiences 鈥� and stories 鈥� of the women working in the water: the obstacles they face and how they can overcome them. 鈥淲e say that the human mind works faster than events,鈥� says Msuya, whom farmers affectionately call 鈥渕other.鈥�
One solution is to farm deeper in the ocean (2-6 yards at low tide), reaching the farms by boat, she says. Since stronger currents can cause the seaweed to break, Msuya鈥檚 team developed a tubular net to keep the algae intact. (The design won the Australian government鈥檚 .) In addition, women are placing fish basket-traps near their seaweed 鈥渟o they have two crops in one area.鈥� For now, the harvest 鈥� rabbitfish, spadefish, parrotfish, eel 鈥� is mainly for the women鈥檚 families. But soon, Msuya says, they鈥檒l have enough to sell.
There鈥檚 just one problem with deep-water farming: many Zanzibari women don鈥檛 swim (largely due to the archipelago鈥檚 conservative interpretation of Islam). So Msuya is helping to teach them, and providing life jackets. The farmers can work in teams so those who are more comfortable in water can dive in to anchor the seaweeds, while others can work from the boats, placing seaweed in nets and hauling in harvests.
Back on the beach, Makame and other farmers stand waist-high in gentle waves as the tide begins to roll back in. An overcast sky shields the equatorial sun. The women pluck bunches of vibrant red and green seaweed and offer a taste. 鈥淚t is like you are eating cucumber,鈥� she says. Crunchy, salty, and nutrient-rich.
Makame understands her industry is changing, and she must adapt. That鈥檚 why she and some of the other women have joined a 29-member farming cooperative, making it easier for customers to reach them, and for members to bargain for supplies. 鈥淲hen we are in groups, we have one voice,鈥� says Makame, who serves as group secretary.
But she is particularly concerned about one thing: deep water. 鈥淚t is very much worrying me,鈥� she says. 鈥淭hat is something I really fear.鈥�
Yet that is where Makame鈥檚 financial future lies. It鈥檚 where she can assert her independence. And she says she will go there.
Reporting for this story was supported by the
