Divas & Patubatê: A Rhythmic Celebration at Clube do Choro— Divas & Patubatê: Uma Celebração Rítmica no Clube do Choro
Stepping into the Clube do Choro that evening, it was impossible not to feel the warmth of the Divas. This was more than a pre-Carnival party—it was a celebration of movement, connection, and the enduring power of joy. The Divas, a group of women mostly in their 60s and beyond, embody a deep understanding of what it means to embrace life at every stage. With grace and enthusiasm, they filled the space with quiet vitality, their movements unhurried yet full of presence. At their side, Patubatê set the rhythm, their inventive percussion transforming recycled materials into a powerful soundscape. The beats reverberated through the venue, creating a dialogue between music and movement that transcended generations. In a world that often overlooks the voices of older women, the Divas stood in radiant defiance, reminding everyone that joy has no expiration date.
Ao entrar no Clube do Choro naquela noite, era impossível não sentir o calor das Divas. Aquilo era mais do que uma festa pré-carnavalesca—era uma celebração do movimento, da conexão e do poder duradouro da alegria. As Divas, um grupo de mulheres em sua maioria com mais de 60 anos, carregam uma compreensão profunda do que significa abraçar a vida em todas as suas fases. Com graça e entusiasmo, preencheram o espaço com uma vitalidade serena, seus movimentos sem pressa, mas cheios de presença. Ao seu lado, o Patubatê marcou o ritmo, sua percussão inventiva transformando materiais reciclados em uma paisagem sonora poderosa. As batidas reverberavam pelo salão, criando um diálogo entre música e movimento que transcendeu gerações. Em um mundo que muitas vezes ignora as vozes das mulheres mais velhas, as Divas brilharam em resistência radiante, lembrando a todos que a alegria não tem prazo de validade.
Stepping into the Clube do Choro for a pre-Carnival gathering of the Divas felt like entering a vivid tapestry of color, sound, and shared warmth. The Divas, a group of women primarily in their 60s and beyond, hosted an evening of dance and celebration that underscored what it means to remain active, connected, and genuinely joyful later in life. Their guests for this special event were the innovative percussionists of Patubatê—artists known for transforming barrels, cans, and automotive parts into striking musical instruments. Together, they created an atmosphere where tradition met invention, all within a mood that shone with quiet vitality rather than wild excess.
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Entrar no Clube do Choro para o encontro pré-Carnaval das Divas foi como adentrar um vibrante tapete de cores, sons e calor compartilhado. As Divas, um grupo de mulheres, em sua maioria com mais de 60 anos, organizaram uma noite de dança e celebração que ressaltou o verdadeiro significado de permanecer ativa, conectada e genuinamente alegre na maturidade. Os convidados especiais desse evento foram os inovadores percussionistas do Patubatê—artistas conhecidos por transformar tambores, latas e peças automotivas em instrumentos musicais surpreendentes. Juntos, criaram uma atmosfera onde a tradição encontrou a invenção, em um ambiente marcado por uma vitalidade serena, sem excessos.
The Divas themselves have a fascinating story. The program emerged from a granddaughter’s desire to support her grandmother, Hilda Alonso, who had retreated from her formerly vibrant life after losing her husband. That granddaughter—Roberta Marques—designed a dance-centered curriculum tailored to older adults, emphasizing safety, pleasure, and sociability. What began as a small endeavor to help one beloved family member quickly attracted more women eager to enjoy dance in a setting that respects their rhythms and fosters community. Today, the Divas thrive with in-person classes across multiple Brazilian cities and even online sessions for participants around the world.
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As próprias Divas têm uma história fascinante. O programa surgiu do desejo de uma neta de apoiar sua avó, Hilda Alonso, que havia se afastado de sua vida vibrante após a perda do marido. Essa neta—Roberta Marques—desenvolveu um currículo focado na dança, adaptado para adultos mais velhos, enfatizando segurança, prazer e sociabilidade. O que começou como um pequeno esforço para ajudar um membro querido da família rapidamente atraiu outras mulheres que buscavam a alegria da dança em um ambiente que respeita seus ritmos e fortalece a comunidade. Hoje, as Divas prosperam com aulas presenciais em várias cidades brasileiras e até mesmo sessões online para participantes ao redor do mundo.
Patubatê’s role in the evening was impossible to ignore. Their electrifying performance—rooted in Brazilian rhythms such as samba, maracatu, and ijexá—reverberated through the venue. The group’s recycled instruments speak to a message of sustainability, while their travels to over 20 countries and 350 Brazilian cities exemplify their commitment to bringing people together through pulsating beats. During the Clube do Choro event, the synergy between Patubatê and the Divas illuminated an overarching sense of harmony: seasoned dancers moved calmly to the energetic percussion, creating a balance that invited everyone to join in, regardless of age or skill level.
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O papel do Patubatê naquela noite foi impossível de ignorar. Sua performance eletrizante—enraizada em ritmos brasileiros como samba, maracatu e ijexá—reverberou por todo o espaço. Os instrumentos reciclados do grupo carregam uma mensagem de sustentabilidade, enquanto suas viagens por mais de 20 países e 350 cidades brasileiras refletem seu compromisso em unir pessoas por meio de batidas pulsantes. Durante o evento no Clube do Choro, a sinergia entre o Patubatê e as Divas revelou um profundo senso de harmonia: dançarinas experientes moviam-se com tranquilidade ao som da percussão enérgica, criando um equilíbrio que convidava todos a participar, independentemente da idade ou nível de habilidade.
Above all, these images strive to convey the power of human connection. From the color-splashed costumes to the glimmers of excitement in each pair of eyes, the photographs are a visual reminder that aging does not mean losing one’s spark—it can be a time to deepen bonds and explore new avenues of expression. In a city as diverse and evolving as Brasília, the Divas stand out by proving that when music, movement, and community intertwine, they can turn any moment—Carnival or otherwise—into a celebration of life’s vibrancy.
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Acima de tudo, essas imagens buscam transmitir a força da conexão humana. Dos trajes coloridos aos brilhos de entusiasmo em cada olhar, as fotografias são um lembrete visual de que envelhecer não significa perder o brilho—pode ser um momento para fortalecer laços e explorar novas formas de expressão. Em uma cidade tão diversa e em constante transformação como Brasília, as Divas se destacam ao provar que, quando música, movimento e comunidade se entrelaçam, qualquer momento—Carnaval ou não—pode se transformar em uma celebração da vitalidade da vida.
Joy & Resilience: ARUC’s Quest for Samba Equality - Alegria & Resistência: O Esforço da ARUC pelo Samba Igualitário
I was immersed in the samba pulse at the Cruzeiro pre-Carnival parade, where bright costumes sparkled and drums boomed with contagious energy. Families and dancers bonded over the shared rhythm, proving Carnival’s power to unite.
Fiquei imerso no pulsar do samba na prévia de Carnaval no Cruzeiro, onde fantasias brilhantes cintilavam e tambores ressoavam com energia contagiante. Famílias e dançarinos se uniram em torno do ritmo, provando o poder do Carnaval de unir.
English:
This past weekend, I found myself swept up in the lively pre-Carnival parade in Cruzeiro, Brasília—an energetic teaser of what’s to come for Carnival 2025. The streets were awash in vivid greens, golds, pinks, and blues, with dancers of all ages dressed in dazzling costumes that shimmered under the midday sun. Families gathered along the sidewalks, small children clapping to the beat, while seasoned sambistas moved with an effortless grace that seemed to infect everyone with pure joy. The uplifting sound of drums and singing echoed through the neighborhood, creating a warm, inclusive atmosphere. It was a place where people of every background felt free to dance, celebrate, and share a collective sense of belonging.
Português:
No último fim de semana, me deixei envolver pela animada prévia de Carnaval no Cruzeiro, em Brasília — um aperitivo cheio de energia do que está por vir no Carnaval de 2025. As ruas estavam repletas de tons vibrantes de verde, dourado, rosa e azul, com dançarinos de todas as idades vestindo fantasias deslumbrantes que brilhavam sob o sol do meio-dia. Famílias se reuniam nas calçadas, crianças pequenas batendo palmas no ritmo, enquanto sambistas experientes se moviam com uma graça natural que parecia contagiar todos com pura alegria. O som contagiante dos tambores e do canto ecoava pelo bairro, criando uma atmosfera acolhedora e inclusiva. Era um lugar onde pessoas de todas as origens se sentiam livres para dançar, festejar e compartilhar um sentimento coletivo de pertencimento.
A Community Built on Samba Tradition
Uma Comunidade Construída sobre a Tradição do Samba
English:
Cruzeiro’s samba culture dates back to 1961, when a group of residents formed the Associação Recreativa Unidos do Cruzeiro (ARUC) in the backyard of Paulo Costa’s home. As Brasília’s very first samba school, ARUC has played a pivotal role in the city’s cultural scene for decades—amassing 31 carnival championship titles and earning recognition as Patrimônio Cultural Imaterial do Distrito Federal in 2009. Its founders were mostly public servants transferred from Rio de Janeiro, bringing cherished samba traditions with them. Over the years, ARUC has also supported community sports programs, further cementing its place in local history.
Português:
A cultura do samba no Cruzeiro remonta a 1961, quando um grupo de moradores formou a Associação Recreativa Unidos do Cruzeiro (ARUC) no quintal da casa de Paulo Costa. Como a primeira escola de samba de Brasília, a ARUC desempenhou um papel fundamental na cena cultural da cidade por décadas — conquistando 31 títulos de campeã no carnaval e recebendo o reconhecimento de Patrimônio Cultural Imaterial do Distrito Federal em 2009. Seus fundadores eram, em sua maioria, servidores públicos transferidos do Rio de Janeiro, trazendo consigo preciosas tradições do samba. Ao longo dos anos, a ARUC também apoiou programas esportivos para a comunidade, reforçando ainda mais sua importância na história local.
Recent Challenges and the Fine
Desafios Recentes e a Multa
English:
Despite its longstanding legacy, ARUC faced legal challenges when it was fined R$5,000 by Instituto Brasília Ambiental (Ibram) for noise levels of 69 dB—just above the 60 dB limit. A neighbor’s complaint led to a ban on live and recorded music, threatening ARUC’s participation in the main Carnival parade. On October 8, 2024, ARUC reached an agreement setting rehearsal times—one evening per week until 10 p.m.—and allowing up to five larger events to run until midnight. With this accord, the case may be dropped, paving the way for the fine to be canceled and the ban lifted. A national samba schools association welcomed the resolution and called for revisions to local noise regulations to better preserve cultural events.
Português:
Apesar de seu reconhecido legado, a ARUC enfrentou desafios jurídicos ao ser multada em R$ 5 mil pelo Instituto Brasília Ambiental (Ibram), após medições de som em 69 dB—acima do limite de 60 dB. Uma reclamação de um morador resultou na proibição de música ao vivo e mecânica, ameaçando a participação da escola no desfile principal. Em 8 de outubro de 2024, a ARUC firmou um acordo estabelecendo horários de ensaio—um dia por semana até as 22h—e permitindo até cinco eventos de maior porte até a meia-noite. Com o entendimento, o processo pode ser arquivado, possibilitando o cancelamento da multa e o fim da proibição. Uma associação nacional de escolas de samba elogiou o acerto e defendeu a revisão da legislação de ruídos para proteger as atividades culturais.
Why Carnival Matters
Por Que o Carnaval Importa
English:
Beyond the music and costumes, Carnival serves as a unifying force in Brazilian culture. Its roots cross class, race, and regional lines, creating a space where everyone can partake in the celebration on equal terms. Samba schools like ARUC have long provided local communities with a sense of shared identity and belonging. During Carnival season, the streets themselves transform into stages, where dancers, musicians, and onlookers connect through rhythm, color, and spontaneous festivities. This egalitarian spirit stands out as one of the festival’s defining qualities—it’s a moment when barriers dissolve, replaced by collective celebration.
Português:
Além da música e das fantasias, o Carnaval funciona como uma força unificadora na cultura brasileira. Suas raízes atravessam classes sociais, raças e regiões, criando um espaço onde todos podem participar da festa em igualdade de condições. Escolas de samba como a ARUC, há muito tempo, oferecem às comunidades locais um sentimento de identidade e pertencimento. Durante a temporada de Carnaval, as próprias ruas se transformam em palcos, onde dançarinos, músicos e espectadores se conectam por meio do ritmo, das cores e da festa espontânea. Esse espírito igualitário destaca-se como uma das qualidades principais do festival — é um momento em que as barreiras se dissolvem, dando lugar à celebração coletiva.
Looking Ahead
Olhando para o Futuro
English:
Even with the legal hurdles facing ARUC, the spirit of samba endures. From the bright smiles of dancing children to the proud twirls of longtime performers, the pre-Carnival parade in Cruzeiro radiated an optimism that is quintessentially Brazilian. As we anticipate the main events of Carnival 2025, the photos and stories from this weekend’s celebration remind us of samba’s unwavering power to bring communities together and keep cultural traditions alive—no matter the obstacles.
Português:
Mesmo com os obstáculos legais enfrentados pela ARUC, o espírito do samba permanece vivo. Desde os sorrisos radiantes das crianças que dançam até os rodopios orgulhosos dos veteranos, a prévia de Carnaval no Cruzeiro irradiou um otimismo tipicamente brasileiro. Enquanto aguardamos os principais eventos do Carnaval de 2025, as fotos e histórias da celebração deste fim de semana nos lembram do poder inabalável do samba para unir comunidades e manter vivas as tradições culturais — independentemente dos desafios.
Tinapa in Rosario, Cavite: Balancing Tradition, Sustainability, and Modern Challenges
Rosario, Cavite—a coastal town along Manila Bay—has long been synonymous with tinapa, the beloved smoked fish that not only delights the palate but also embodies a rich cultural and economic heritage. While generations of local artisans have honed traditional smoking techniques, recent data and shifting market dynamics underscore both the industry's strengths and the pressing challenges it faces.
From the Sea to Smoke: A Process Rooted in Heritage
Local fishermen, many of whom have fished these waters for decades, contribute to an annual catch estimated at over 500 metric tons of key species like galunggong, bangus, and tilapia. These fish, caught using traditional methods that respect seasonal bans and regulated net sizes, feed directly into the tinapa production chain. At Rosario’s bustling fish ports, quality control is paramount; only the freshest fish are selected to ensure the final product retains its signature flavor and texture.
Once the fish reach the local smokehouses, artisans apply time-honored methods—cleaning, gutting, and brining the fish before arranging them on bamboo racks. Traditional smoking chambers, fueled by coconut husks and locally sourced wood, impart a unique, subtly sweet flavor. Artisans meticulously monitor temperature and smoke density over several hours, a process that reflects both patience and expertise.
Sustainability: Tradition Meets Modern Environmental Demands
Rosario’s tinapa industry champions sustainability through its reliance on locally sourced ingredients and agricultural byproducts, creating a model of circular economy practices. However, environmental experts caution that even traditional smoking techniques can contribute to air pollution. Recent trials with smokeless kilns in select communities have shown promise in reducing emissions by up to 30%, offering a pathway to reconcile heritage with environmental responsibility.
Local stakeholder Maria Santos, a veteran tinapa artisan, explains, “Our methods have sustained us for generations, but we recognize the need to evolve. Embracing new technologies like smokeless kilns ensures that our legacy—and our environment—can thrive together.”
Navigating Contemporary Challenges
While tinapa production bolsters the local economy, several challenges loom:
Resource Depletion and Climate Change: Overfishing and changing ocean conditions in Manila Bay pose risks to fish populations. Recent assessments indicate a 10–15% decline in local fish stocks over the past decade, highlighting the need for more adaptive and sustainable fishing practices.
Market Pressures: Global trends toward artisanal and sustainably produced foods have increased tinapa's appeal. However, competition from modern processing techniques and mass production can threaten traditional methods and the livelihoods that depend on them.
Regulatory and Technological Shifts: As local and national governments tighten regulations on emissions and resource use, tinapa makers must balance adherence to these policies with maintaining authentic production methods.
Positioning Tinapa in a Global Market
In a broader market context, tinapa stands out for its authentic production process and commitment to sustainability. Comparisons with similar artisanal products globally reveal a competitive edge—rooted in a deep connection to local culture and environment. For example, European smoked fish industries have increasingly integrated sustainability metrics into their marketing strategies. By incorporating comparable data—such as yield per unit effort, emission reductions from new smoking technologies, and community economic impact—Rosario’s tinapa makers can better position themselves in both domestic and international markets.
Looking Ahead: Innovation with Tradition
The future of tinapa in Rosario hinges on embracing innovation while preserving heritage. Strategies include:
Investing in Clean Technologies: Expanding the use of smokeless kilns and modern monitoring systems can enhance both product quality and environmental compliance.
Strengthening Supply Chain Resilience: Collaborating with local fishermen to implement sustainable fishing quotas and diversifying fish species can mitigate resource risks.
Leveraging Data for Market Expansion: Collecting and publicizing data on production volumes, sustainability metrics, and economic impacts can attract eco-conscious consumers and open new market channels.
Tinapa remains a culinary treasure that encapsulates Rosario’s identity. By addressing modern challenges head-on and integrating sustainable innovations, this cherished tradition can continue to flourish, ensuring that future generations enjoy not only its distinctive flavor but also a commitment to environmental stewardship and economic resilience.
Guardians of the Amazon: A Peaceful Indigenous Protest in the Heart of Brasília
In April 2022, as the sun dipped over Brasília’s sweeping avenues, I witnessed a protest that felt both timeless and urgent. Indigenous groups from across Brazil had gathered on the Esplanada, marching peacefully yet powerfully toward the National Congress. Their demands were clear: recognition of their ancestral lands, protection of the Amazon, and resistance against laws like the Marco Temporal, which threatened to erase their claims. Against the stark lines of Brasília’s modern architecture, their presence was striking—a reminder that the fight for the rainforest is also a fight for cultural survival, and ultimately, for the planet itself.
I’d been living in Brasília for barely a year, so the city still felt fresh and unfamiliar. When I heard that Indigenous groups had been camping on the Esplanada, beginning their daily march around five in the afternoon, I grabbed my camera, determined to see it for myself. It was a warm day in April 2022, and the sun was already dipping low, setting the stage for something that felt both urgent and overlooked.
Driving into the city center, I could sense a calm intensity in the air. Drums and chatter guided me up the Eixo Monumental, where people in vivid feather headdresses, intricate tattoos, and striking face paint were gathering. The late afternoon sun lit up every color—reds, yellows, blues—and gave the concrete structures around us a softer glow than usual. Beneath any hint of pageantry was a quiet resolve: this was a peaceful protest, but with a clear, purposeful message.
I moved among small groups, capturing photos of elders talking with younger protesters, banners referencing land rights, and children taking it all in. Many participants were there because of the “Marco Temporal,” a law stating Indigenous peoples could only claim territory they had occupied by 1988—never mind that many communities were displaced long before then. Groups like APIB and COIAB had organized these demonstrations, highlighting how Indigenous rights and the protection of the Amazon rainforest are deeply connected. Their perspective was straightforward: what happens to them and their lands will ultimately affect everyone.
As they approached the National Congress, some chanted, others sang in languages I didn’t recognize. Yet the demands were crystal clear: respect, demarcation, and a plea to safeguard the Amazon. Many had traveled great distances to be here, but the issues they spoke of—illegal mining, deforestation, disregard for ancestral lands—didn’t stop at city limits or national borders. When the march reached its endpoint, the sky bled into pinks and oranges. Drum circles echoed beneath the modern lines of the Congress building, while children raced around on the grass, full of energy even after a long day. Elders sat down to rest, their faces reflecting both fatigue and quiet determination.
Driving home afterward, I couldn’t shake the thought of how this peaceful, powerful demonstration had received so little notice beyond Brazil. Though new to Brasília, I was certain moments like these mattered not just for the city or the country, but for everyone who depends on the Amazon—and that’s all of us. What unfolds on this sweeping avenue at sunset is more than just a local march; it’s a vivid reminder that people, heritage, and the natural world are inseparable, and defending one means defending them all.
Circo dos Sonhos: Between Magic and Reality Under the Big Top
Stepping into Circo dos Sonhos, I feel like I’ve entered another world. The scent of popcorn lingers, the towering tent glows under the lights, and behind the curtain, performers prepare for a night of magic. But beyond the wonder of the show lies a different reality—one of relentless training, constant travel, and financial uncertainty. Life in the circus is a delicate balance between passion and survival, creativity and struggle. Through this series of photographs, I want to reveal both sides of this world—the breathtaking artistry and the quiet, unseen moments of dedication. Because in the end, the circus is more than a performance. It’s a way of life, a testament to resilience, and proof that dreams, no matter how challenging, are always worth chasing.
Stepping into Circo dos Sonhos in Brasilia, I feel like I’ve entered another world. The scent of popcorn lingers in the air, the massive red-and-yellow tent stretches toward the sky, and somewhere behind the curtain, performers are getting ready. This is where magic happens, where the impossible becomes real—if only for a night.
But what if this weren’t just a visit? What if this were my life? I imagine waking up as one of them—a circus artist, living and breathing the rhythm of the show. Mornings begin with rehearsals under the big top. Acrobats twist and flip through the air, trusting each other completely. Clowns fine-tune their routines, tweaking their timing until the laughter comes naturally. Musicians tune their instruments, setting the heartbeat of the performance. The sense of community is everything. In the circus, you don’t just work together—you live together, eat together, dream together. Every day is about pushing limits, perfecting skills, and trusting the person beside you. It’s exhausting, exhilarating, and deeply rewarding.
As a storyteller with a camera, I see more than the performance. I see the quiet moments backstage—the tightrope walker stretching before a big act, the clown adjusting their face paint in the mirror, the magician whispering last-minute encouragement to an assistant. These moments hold the same magic as the show itself.
But behind the wonder, there’s another story. The life of a circus performer is filled with uncertainty. The circus is an entire world on wheels, moving from city to city, setting up and tearing down, chasing the next audience. In Brazil, the exact number of circuses is hard to track, but many struggle to survive. Funding is scarce, and big cities are harder to reach. Fewer young people see the circus as a viable future. Salaries vary wildly. In countries like the U.S., a trapeze artist might earn $39,000 a year, but here in Brazil, it’s often much less. There are no guarantees—no safety net beyond the one they use in practice. Injuries happen, and access to healthcare isn’t always easy when you’re constantly on the move.
And yet, they stay. Not for money or stability, but for the art, the passion, the love of performance. Living as an artist is always a balance between imagination and reality. The circus is about wonder, but the business of running a circus is relentless—tickets to sell, tents to maintain, costumes to repair. Many performers take on extra jobs, handling logistics or managing promotions, stretching their creativity between survival and performance.
And still, when the lights dim and the crowd hushes, when the music swells and the show begins, it all becomes worth it. Through this series of photographs, I want you to see both sides of Circo dos Sonhos—the breathtaking artistry and the hard work behind it. The soaring dreams and the daily grind. The people who bring magic to life, even when the odds are stacked against them. Because in the end, the circus is more than a performance. It’s a way of life, a testament to passion, resilience, and the belief that dreams—no matter how difficult—are always worth chasing.
Mnemba’s Fishing Communities: Holding on to a Changing Sea
As the sun rises over Mnemba, Mozambique, fishermen prepare their boats while women wade through the shallows, searching for shellfish. The sea has always provided, but now, the fish are fewer, the reefs quieter. Illegal fishing and environmental changes have left their mark, yet the community persists—casting nets, weaving baskets, and diving for octopus in the seagrass beds. Their connection to the ocean is unbreakable, but for how much longer?
In June 2024, I found myself once again in Mnemba, Mozambique, camera in hand, on assignment for the Wildlife Conservation Society (WCS). I had been all over Mozambique before, living and working in different corners of this beautiful country. I had visited Mnemba before too, but this time, something felt different.
Maybe it was the golden light stretching across the water at dawn, painting the fishing boats in amber hues. Maybe it was the rhythmic sound of the waves, a heartbeat pulsing through every moment. Or maybe it was the people—the men and women of Mnemba’s fishing communities, who, despite everything, still smiled, still welcomed me, still treated me as one of their own.
Before the first sliver of sunrise broke the horizon, I was already walking barefoot along the shore. The scent of salt and damp nets filled the air. Around me, the fishermen were at work, their hands rough and calloused as they secured lines and checked their gear. Some worked in silence, their focus unshaken. Others laughed, voices carrying over the lapping waves.
But the men were not the only ones working. The women moved with quiet strength and steady purpose, weaving nets, carrying baskets, and preparing the day's catch. Further down the beach, a group of women waded knee-deep in the shallows, scanning the seafloor for shellfish. One of them, an elder named Amina, greeted me with a knowing smile. "The sea is our life," she said, hands sifting through the sand. "But it is not the same sea my mother knew."
She told me how the catches were smaller, how they now had to walk farther to find food. Her daughter, barely sixteen, worked beside her, learning the trade passed down through generations. Yet even as they labored, they laughed, their resilience as unwavering as the tides.
Later, I followed a group of spear fishermen slipping into the shallow waters. Their movements were fluid, practiced, as they swam through the seagrass beds, spears poised, searching for octopus and reef fish. Seagrass, often overlooked, is one of the most important marine habitats, sheltering juvenile fish and providing food for countless species. The fishermen dove deep, disappearing beneath the surface, only to emerge minutes later, triumphant with their catch.
Underwater, I captured the reefs in all their textured beauty—intricate coral formations twisting and sprawling like underwater forests. The colors were impressive, the structures vibrant, but something was missing. The reef fish, once darting between the corals, were almost entirely gone. On some large coral bommies, there were evident signs of bleaching. The ecosystem felt eerily still as if life had slowly drained away.
Over 90% of Mozambique’s annual fish landings come from small-scale fishers, but their catches have declined by nearly 30% in the past 25 years. Illegal and unregulated fishing—much of it from foreign fleets—drains the country’s fish stocks, leaving local fishermen struggling to compete.
Despite everything, they worked. For their children, for their community, for a future they refused to let slip away.
The tide comes in, the tide goes out, and the people of Mnemba continue their quiet, unrelenting fight for the sea that has sustained them for generations. The ocean has changed, and it will continue to change. The question is whether, years from now, there will still be enough left for those who know it best.
