Efundja brings fish and money

They say every bad situation has an unforeseen advantage. This adage proves to be true for the areas in northern Namibia which were hit by the seasonal flood waters (locally known as the “efundja”) at the beginning of March. Since then, until the end of May, affected villagers and community members have been involved in fishing, catching the local freshwater catfish which comes with the efundja.

Efundja typically occurs when heavy rains in central Angola fill the Kunene River, which forms the border between northern Namibia and southern Angola. The water body spills into Angola’s southern province of Cunene and the central northern regions of Namibia, such as Ohangwena, Omusati, Oshana and parts of Oshikoto.

This year, like in the past, the efundja provided some consolation for those in affected areas. This came in the form of fish. Every time it floods, hordes of people cast their nets and fishing lines at strategic places where the flood water flows. The fish get caught in the fishing nets and on hooks attached to the lines.

Villagers and community members sell most of the fish at fishing sites or urban centres such as towns or informal settlements. This provides them with an income they would otherwise not have if it were not for the efundja.

At the same time, it means no more spending money on meat and related products for the duration of the efundja until the water has subsided. The efundja fish also provides many families with a good source of protein.

In the Oshikango constituency of Ohangwena Region, several nets were cast next to a bridge on a gravel road between Oshikango and Edundja. Under this bridge, powerful waves of water pass with fish. And it is here where a man called Kombinga has cast his nets.

He sells the fish at a nearby informal settlement. He tells our team he is one of the people displaced by the flood. The government relocated him, and he is housed in a tent with others on high ground somewhere, while the regional government takes care of them.

Catching fish provides me with some sort of activity while at the same time I am earning an income.

“It is boring in the tents and catching fish provides me with some sort of activity while at the same time I am earning an income,” the 35-year-old says. His fish bundles contain between five and 20 fish and can cost anything between N$20 and N$100, depending on the size.

Kombinga does not work in isolation. His colleagues are men, women and even children. According to him, most of them had gone on the day of our conversation to meet the regional governor of Ohangwena, Sebastian Ndeitunga, and his delegation, who had come to pay them a visit at their camp in a helicopter after assessing the situation from the air. Kombinga had opted to stay behind and man his nets.

“Of course it’s good. Like today, I had six bundles, and I have already sold four. Only two are left.” He notes that on a good day, one could make N$300 or more.

Kapana seller Victoria Nehemiah is Kombinga’s most important customer. She owns a home shop and sells most traditional alcoholic brews enjoyed in informal settlements. After having one too many, her clients always demand pap served with efundja fish, a tasty and hot soup. “They love it, and that’s why Kombinga has to come here every morning to sell fish to me to prepare for my customers.”

When asked if he wishes the efundja would return again next year, considering the monetary benefits he gets from selling the fish, he gives a loud and long whistle as if casting away an evil spell and says: “No, no, no, no. The damage it does to the crops and our homes is too much. Also, it blocks our roads and messes up everything. Of course, the fish business is good, but overall, I hate it.”

Marx Itamalo