Kwa Chambo Landing Site: A Legacy Etched in Tides

Siana Phillips
Aug 25
4 min read

Updated: Aug 28

In the quiet rhythms of Kilifi’s coast, where the sea meets the land with daily predictability and mystery, there lies a place that holds the collective memory of generations: Kwa Chambo.

Fishermen at Kwa Chambo collect marine debris during a beach clean supported by Ocean Sole, wearing gloves and carrying sacks of waste. — Kwa Chambo fishers lead a beach clean supported by Ocean Sole. They receive small stipends for this stewardship — part of linking conservation with livelihoods.

What is now recognized as the Kwa Chambo Landing Site was not always a formal bandari. In the early 1970s, it was simply a gathering point — a spot where fishermen, drawn by the abundance of sardines (simsim), would meet before venturing into the Indian Ocean. It was here, under the open sky, that fishing plans were discussed, techniques shared, and friendships forged.

Community members and fishers gathered under a tree in a circle, discussing conservation strategies at the Kwa Chambo landing site. — A community workshop at Kwa Chambo: fishers, youth, and elders discuss how to protect marine life and restore fish stocks.

A Family’s Legacy

The roots of Kwa Chambo are personal. The land and its name trace back to a humble fisherman — the father of Mzee Chambo — who earned his living casting nets into these very waters. His wisdom and skill in fishing were passed on to his son, who at the time was a tailor. When the elder passed, Mzee Chambo laid down his needle and thread and took up the spear gun and fishing net, stepping into his father’s footsteps.

As fishing activity grew and more fishers gathered at the Kwa Ngala coastline, a community decision was made: divide the beach into zones. Each fisherman was allocated a section. Mzee Chambo was granted his portion — and with it, a name began to form. People started referring to the spot simply as “Kwa Chambo” — Chambo’s place.

At first, the beach lacked a proper landing site. After long hours at sea, fishers would carry their catch home and announce their return by blowing a conch shell. This signal, rich in tradition, would summon neighbors and buyers to their homes.

Fisherman Charo stands inside a simple storeroom holding his traditional spearguns, used for free-diving and selective fishing. — Charo with his spearguns — a symbol of traditional, low-impact fishing still practiced at Kwa Chambo.

From Meeting Point to Landing Site

The turning point came when the number of fishermen became too great, and the need for a shared landing area became clear. With Mzee Chambo as a respected leader, the landing site was formally established — taking on his name, as a marker of leadership, legacy, and location.

From oral histories, we learn that fish were once plentiful, and the waters vibrant with life. The balance between catch and regeneration — what fisheries scientists call Maximum Sustainable Yield — was being maintained. Kwa Chambo's fishers, without formal training, were stewards of their marine ecosystem.

A small pile of fish and octopus, laid on a fishing net, weighing under 3 kilograms — the result of a full day’s fishing. — Fishermen at Kwa Chambo report an average daily catch of less than 3kg — often small reef fish and juvenile octopus.

A Shift in the Waters

The 1990s brought change. Newcomers, particularly fishers from Pemba, Tanzania, introduced destructive techniques such as bottom trawling and ring netting. Unlike the traditional gear used at Kwa Chambo — spear guns, small nets, hand lines — these methods scraped the seabed, destroyed habitats, and disrupted breeding grounds. Overfishing surged. Replenishment slowed. The ecosystem struggled to recover.

Today, the consequences are visible. Fishermen report a sharp decline in stock biomass, backed by lived experience: former ray hotspots are now lifeless stretches of sea. Shark sightings, once a sign of a healthy ocean, are rare. Rays have all but disappeared from these grounds. The market is ready — but the sea is not. There simply isn’t enough fish.

One elder recalled a dangerous encounter with a shark — a time when these apex predators were common enough to pose both threat and opportunity. Now, they are ghosts of the past.

A fisherman displays his modest catch of the day: a handful of small fish on the sand, barely weighing 3kg in total. — A typical catch in today’s conditions. Many fishers recall a time when the ocean gave more, and the fish were larger.

What This History Teaches Us

The story of Kwa Chambo is not one of loss alone. It is a story of stewardship, community agency, and intergenerational knowledge. It is also a cautionary tale: when traditional practices are ignored, and ecological limits pushed, abundance can vanish.

But Kwa Chambo is also a site of revival.

The same community that nurtured this landing site is now stepping forward to protect it. They are eager to see the once abundant reef return to its former glory and with guidance from the elders and energy from the youth, there is a movement to restore the reefs, train local marine ambassadors, and bring pride and prosperity back to the shoreline.

This is not nostalgia. It is memory, anchored in a desire to shape a future where Kwa Chambo remains a living place — not just of landing boats, but of launching hope.

At Ocean Sole, we are here to support this mission by helping the fishers maintain their cultural and sustainable practices, raise awareness, and mobilize the resources needed to bring this vision to life.