Tanganyika, the Greatest Great Lake

_{By Julie Damon, Senior Associate Director of Donor Communications, Africa Program}

Squinting, I scan the sparkling surface of Lake Tanganyika as we motor across its broad horizon, the usual bustle of boats strikingly absent from the deep blue view. We’ve arrived on day 88 of an experimental 90-day fishing ban enacted by the four countries that share this massive lake—Burundi, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Tanzania and Zambia—to help fish stocks recover. 

Having grown up near Lake Michigan in the U.S., the scale of a Great Lake is simultaneously familiar and awe-inspiring to me—particularly this one, which holds nearly as much water as all five North American Great Lakes combined! 

Typically, this is the lake that never sleeps. When the day shift of dugout canoes, sailing dhows, hefty wood-plank boats and overpacked ferries heads in, thousands of fishing boats venture out for the overnight job of harvesting native sardines (dagaa) using LED lights that turn the lake’s surface into a breathtaking earthbound replica of a starry sky. But today, and for the past three months, there is stillness.  

With the midmorning sun high in the sky, we motor toward Manda Kerenge—a village within a cluster of islands known as the Kipili Archipelago, off the Tanzanian coast. As we approach, brightly painted boats anchored to the rocky shore tug at their rope restraints. All around them, scores of fish bubble and splash, seemingly celebrating the replenished stocks they have built during the three-month fishery closure. 

Lifting my gaze from water to land, my heart rises with the sound of singing and the offer of hands from women, men and children who have gathered to warmly welcome us ashore. 

It’s hard to reconcile the plentiful life I see, hear and feel pulsing along this shore with reports I’ve read that warn of a startling drop in fish production of nearly 20% between 2020 and 2024. Then again, I have heard that Manda Kerenge—and nine other villages that dot the Kipili Archipelago—are at the epicenter of a promising solution that could change life in and around this giant lake, for good.

A Front-Row View of the Crown Jewels

Kipili’s collection of rocky islands is one of 29 sites around Lake Tanganyika that local and international experts agreed—through a multiyear process led by TNC—are the most critical to conserve. So extraordinary is the ecological richness of these areas, which ring the lake’s shore like jewels in a crown, that TNC and scientific partners are working to add them to the list of sites recognized as global priorities for protection by the International Union for Conservation of Nature. 

TNC has worked in the Kipili Archipelago with communities and local NGO Sustain Lake Tanganyika since 2023. I’m visiting with a small group that invests in this essential grassroots work to manage a fishery that is not only the engine of the regional economy but a critical source of protein and livelihoods for roughly 10 million people living in the Lake Tanganyika basin.

We’ve come to Manda Kerenge to sit with members of this fishing community, to listen and learn in the shade of a tree about the changes they have seen in the fishery. Earlier in the week, we did the same with a community in another part of the lake, but something is different here.

A Musical Message

From village leaders and ‘mamas’ to a group of curious children watching from where they sit in the sand, it seems the whole village has gathered for this chat. 

With a breeze off the water keeping the equatorial heat at bay, an elder steps into the circle we’ve made. He wears the logoed navy-blue polo that signifies him as part of the volunteer group responsible for the local fishery: the Beach Management Unit (BMU). From his pocket, this mzee (elder gentleman) pulls out a folded sheet of paper, carefully opens it, and much to our surprise, he begins to sing. 

His melodic poem, delivered in Kiswahili, paints a picture of the positive changes Manda Kerenge has created through our partnership. Mesmerized by his courage and heart, we hold a reverent hush, allowing the song to wash over us. When it ends, cheers and ululation break the spell, and BMU members and visitors alike press coins of appreciation into his palm. 

After a few formalities, we split into smaller clusters that invite more voices and perspectives to be heard. I move to join a group that includes a community fisheries scout, sharply dressed in a dark green uniform and shiny black boots.

One of These Things Is Not Like the Other  

“We are well prepared,” the scout confidently explains when I ask about encounters with fishers harvesting in no-take zones or using damaging illegal nets. “We have had extensive training.”

Fisheries scouts from this area and from communities in our Tuungane project site to the north were the first on Lake Tanganyika to complete intensive three-month training at Pasiansi Wildlife Training Institute in Mwanza, Tanzania, with support from TNC. This specialized professional training opens doors to conservation career paths in both the public and private sectors.

“What else do you need to be successful?” I ask the group.

A BMU member answers emphatically and without hesitation that they need jurisdiction in deeper water—outside the near-shore zone where the BMU currently has the right to oversee fishing activity and enforce the bylaws they established to protect it. “We see fishers using illegal nets out there that harm the fishery and our livelihoods, but we don’t have authority to do anything about it.”

A light bulb goes off in my mind as I flash back to a similar conversation a few days ago with a community in a different part of the lake. On the surface, the conditions and conservation activities appeared the same. But they answered this question with a wish list of boats and equipment, and a local voice challenged that more supplies wouldn’t help when the available equipment wasn’t being used.

Something is different here, indeed. But why?

Sharing the Secret to Success

The ownership and confidence that shone brightly, even during our brief visit to Manda Kerenge, stem from this adapted model. Community BMUs around the Kipili Archipelago now collaboratively oversee fishing activity across nearly 10,000 hectares, including no-take reserves and areas that open and close seasonally to fishers. And it’s working. A 2025 analysis found that fish catch near some of these reserves is nearly double that in areas far from such protections.

Across this enormous lake that works around the clock, Fridolin and his team are collaborating with a growing network of communities and partners. Together, they’re blending science and indigenous knowledge to bring about a thriving future designed by locals for the good of themselves and the world.

“Lake Tanganyika is a legacy entrusted to us by those who came before,” says Fridolin. “These communities are a big part of the solution.”

A Wish and a Share

As we pull up the anchor and motor away from Manda Kerenge, I wish I could be here in two days, when the fishery reopens. I would love to see if the community perceives that the temporary closure delivered the surplus of fish it promised, as well as how they use this experience to adapt the way they oversee their special part of this ancient lake. 

Instead, I take with me enduring images that I am eager to share: a near-shore fishery bubbling with abundance, and one community—among a growing number—that is increasingly equipped to bring about its vision of a sustainable future on perhaps the greatest of our planet’s Great Lakes.