As catch dwindles, Kolis struggle to stay afloat

Parag Tandel, artist and ethnographer, spoke angrily about the way his community had become a tourist attraction. “Those who come for `Koliwada walks’, do they ever join us in our protests? Are they willing to eat dried fish? All you get in Koliwada food festivals is fast food. We’ve been living near the sea for centuries. How did we cook fish before oil and frying were introduced?”

“Kolis want their gaothans developed, but not on the BMC’s terms. They live in villas in their gaothans. These are their hometowns; they own this land. What they need are civic amenities. But they find themselves at loggerheads with the authorities.”

(From left) Gayatri Nair, Ganesh Nakhawa, Naresh Fernandes (moderator), Anita Yewale, and Parag Tandel participating in a discussion on Kolis, Mumbai’s original inhabitants, held at Asiatic Library. This was part of the “Uncovering Urban Legacies” series conducted by Avid Learning, Tarq and the Asiatic Society.

“If you see a Koli’s plate, it will have only seasonal catch. But restaurants say, pomfret laao. Where are we going to catch pomfret every day?”

“Normally, a Koli doesn’t eat fish found beyond 3 km. But today we have to go far out. It’s not just the city’s waste that pollutes the coast, but the sound pollution too drives fish away.”

Anger and anguish marked a discussion on Kolis, Mumbai’s original inhabitants, held at Asiatic Library. This was part of the “Uncovering Urban Legacies” series conducted by Avid Learning, Tarq and the Asiatic Society.

Parag Tandel, artist and ethnographer, spoke angrily about the way his community had become a tourist attraction. “Those who come for `Koliwada walks’, do they ever join us in our protests? Are they willing to eat dried fish? All you get in Koliwada food festivals is fast food. We’ve been living near the sea for centuries. How did we cook fish before oil and frying were introduced?”

Ganesh Nakhawa, who runs Blue Catch, a website that connects consumers to the fishing community, and gets them to eat seasonal fresh fish, recalled having grown up eating a breakfast of bhakri and fish, both cooked on coals.

Nakhawa was concerned about youngsters turning away from fishing. “It’s no longer sustainable. Their fathers have sold off their boats; they see their mothers getting up at 3am to go from their Koliwada to Sassoon Dock or Ferry Wharf, buy fish, and return in time to sell it. All this because fish is dwindling in the creeks close to their villages. Not that fish is not there. If that was the case, why would more than 500 foreign trawlers be constantly in our waters, stealing our catch? The government allows them, but won’t allow us to get licences for our boats and help modernise them.”

“Once you stop fishing, the fishing village dies,” he said, adding there might be no one left to inherit the skills of the Kolis.

Heritage enthusiast Anita Yewale, who conducts walks in Worli’s fishing village, which has borne the brunt of the sea link and the coastal road project, spoke of the changes she’s seen there. “The temple of the local deity Golfa Devi now lies neglected, with a few worshippers whereas the Mahadeo temple has become the main temple, an indication of the influence of migrant communities taking up fishing.”

Tracing the history of the struggle of the Kolis to claim their right to a sustainable livelihood and to the city itself, Gayatri Nair, professor and author of `Set Adrift’, a book on Mumbai’s fishing community, said the struggle had echoed the dominant politics of the times. “In the 80s and 90s, Kolis had regarded migrant fishermen as their biggest threat. But that changed as they became part of the National Fishworkers Forum. Today, the Akhil Maharashtra Macchhimar Kruti Samiti sees migrants as part of the larger fishing community.”

Fisherwomen had for years sold fish in open markets, Nair pointed out. “Now, thanks to the redevelopment and gentrification of neighbourhoods, they are no longer allowed to do so. And they have no deeds to prove their claims over that land.”

However, all was not lost, said Nakhawa, who’s determined to persuade his community to adapt to climate change as well as the destruction of the coastline brought about by “development”. Fishermen in the south had adapted by improving their boats and fishing techniques, he said.

Nakhawa claimed that during the lockdown, the catch had revived in Mumbai’s creeks. “We have the strongest coastline. If only the government saw fishing as a crucial part of the national economy!”