As Pakistan struggles with deepening economic and climate crises, the fisherwomen of Badin offer a simple yet profound lesson: resilience lies in the roots. You! takes a look…
In the heart of Pakistan’s Sindh province, along the vulnerable southern stretch of the Indus Delta, a quiet revolution is taking place - one led not by policymakers or technocrats, but by the hands of resilient fisherwomen. These women, long marginalised in a male-dominated sector, are reclaiming their role in the coastal economy through a remarkable initiative launched over a decade ago. Piloted in 2014 by Oxfam Novib and Indus Consortium, a small-scale aquaculture project has not only endured but thrived. Today, it stands as a beacon of sustainable development, challenging traditional gender norms and reviving livelihoods once crippled by climate change and economic neglect. Read on…
Globally, the fishing industry sustains over 120 million people and remains a cornerstone of food security, especially in low- and middle-income countries where coastal communities heavily rely on marine resources for both nutrition and livelihood. In Pakistan, the fisheries sector contributes about 1 per cent to the national GDP, yet its social and economic value is far greater for communities living along the 990-kilometer coastline. Nowhere is this more evident than in Sindh, where the 350-kilometer stretch from Karachi to the Rann of Kutch once thrived with biodiversity, bustling fishing markets, and vibrant wetland ecosystems. Historically, the Indus Delta served as a natural breeding ground for fish, shrimp, and mud crabs - providing sustenance and income to thousands. However, mismanagement, upstream damming, and industrial pollution have drastically reduced the freshwater flow into the delta to a mere 20 per cent of its original volume. This has led to severe saline intrusion, degradation of mangrove forests, collapsing fish stocks, and the forced migration of entire communities.
According to the Pakistan Bureau of Statistics, more than 400,000 people in Sindh depend directly on fisheries for their livelihood. Yet, national policies and development programmes have largely failed to acknowledge or support the vital roles that women play across the fishing value chain - whether in net weaving, fish drying, and crab sorting, or managing household economies. Traditionally considered ‘invisible labour’, women’s contributions are systematically overlooked, particularly in the absence of formal recognition and access to resources. The compound impacts of climate change, rising sea levels, water scarcity, and environmental degradation have only worsened the vulnerability of these coastal populations. For women, who are often excluded from decision-making spaces and formal employment, the narrowing of livelihood options is particularly acute. This context underscores the urgent need for adaptive, gender-inclusive interventions that draw on existing local knowledge and ecosystem strengths -like the small-scale aquaculture model pioneered in Badin - to build resilience, restore dignity, and secure sustainable futures for fisherwomen and their families.
A vision in 2014: Rethinking livelihood interventions
It was against this backdrop that the 2014 pilot project was launched in Badin district’s coastal union councils - Kadhan and Bhugra Memon. The villages of Ali Bakhsh Mallah, Haji Umer Jat, and Ramzan Lund became early participants in a bold experiment: to introduce home-based fish and mud crab farming targeted specifically at women.
Unlike the typical vocational training programmes that teach stitching or embroidery - skills that women rarely monetise in these regions - this initiative recognised that fisherwomen already possessed inherited aquatic knowledge. “We knew the tides, the crabs, the nets,” said Muradan of Ramzan Lund village. “We just needed a pond and someone to believe in us.” This approach, rooted in local knowledge systems and community ownership, became the hallmark of the project’s success.
More than a decade later, the project continues to flourish - not merely surviving, but evolving. During a recent field visit, the transformation was palpable. In Ali Bakhsh Mallah, women proudly guided me around their fishponds, explaining water salinity levels, crab feeding schedules, and harvest cycles like seasoned aqua-culturists. Rasti, a mother of five, recalled, “Earlier, we depended on our husbands’ luck at sea. Now, I can plan my own harvests. I feel independent.”
The economic viability of crab and fish farming has been game-changing. With each cycle requiring around PKR 20,000–30,000 and yielding double the investment, women now operate up to ten cycles annually. A single crab fetches as much as PKR 1300 in peak winter season. “Crab is like a golden coin in water,” said Muradan. “Small in size, but it changes our entire month.” These earnings have allowed women to invest in livestock, solar panels, and even school fees - lifting entire households out of poverty.
Redefining gender roles in Coastal Sindh
In both union councils, a striking social shift is underway. Traditionally confined to domestic duties, women now play central roles in household economies and decision-making. A recent survey showed that 96 per cent of women beneficiaries manage family budgets, and over 70 per cent participate in decisions related to agriculture, loans, and even marriage. “I decided to delay my daughter’s marriage so she could finish school,” shared Hajiani, a widow from Haji Umer Jat. “That kind of voice - I never had before.”
This empowerment is not just symbolic - it’s structural. With separate fishponds in their names and active roles in day-to-day operations, these women now command respect within their communities. Their male counterparts often assist with technical issues and marketing, creating a rare partnership model that bridges gender roles without conflict. In contrast, women from control villages - those not included in the project - report continued dependency, lack of income, and minimal say in family decisions.
What sets this model apart is its rejection of top-down development assumptions. Rather than imposing new skill sets, the project builds on what women already know and do well. “Many NGOs teach us sewing. But we are fisherwomen, not tailors,” argued Rasti. “They gave us our own skill - just improved it. That’s why this worked.”
Women have formed informal cooperatives, sharing feed, coordinating harvests, and negotiating better rates with buyers. Mobile phones, introduced through NGO training, now connect them to wider markets and information. In village Ali Bakhsh Mallah, women monitor weather updates and pond health via WhatsApp groups - a far cry from their previous invisibility in the value chain.
Despite the economic gains, the social landscape remains complex. Alarmingly, all female respondents in both villages were illiterate. Schools, especially for girls, remain either too distant or under-resourced. “If we had a girls’ school nearby, our lives would be different,” elucidated Shama, a mother from Bhugra Memon. Where schooling is accessible, girls now aspire to become teachers - a reflection of changing mind-sets seeded by economic independence.
Health infrastructure, however, remains virtually non-existent. Neither union council has a functional hospital, dispensary, or maternal health centre. Women continue to give birth at home, often without trained attendants. The burden of unpaid care work - cooking, cleaning, water-fetching, and child-rearing - persists even as women take on income-generating tasks. This dual burden underscores the urgent need for integrated, gender-responsive public services in coastal areas.
The Delta dilemma: Climate change and livelihoods
The project’s success also reflects an ecological necessity. Agriculture, once a fall-back option, is no longer viable due to persistent drought and saline soil. Fish and crab farming, by contrast, thrives in brackish water and requires less land. As one elder in Bhugra Memon put it, “We fought with the land and lost. But water is in our blood. We can work with it.”
Climate change, however, remains a looming threat. Erratic monsoons, rising sea levels, and declining river flows continue to disrupt the delicate ecosystem of the Indus Delta. Without large-scale interventions - such as mangrove restoration, freshwater flows, and coastal embankments - even the most resilient aquaculture models face limits.
Perhaps the most damning revelation is the absence of government support. An astounding 84 per cent of beneficiaries and 100 per cent of non-beneficiaries confirmed receiving no assistance from public institutions - no training, no subsidies, no recognition. “We are invisible to the government,” expressed Bhagi.
This vacuum has made women more reliant on NGOs and civil society actors like Indus Consortium, who continue to provide technical assistance, trainings, seed funding, and policy advocacy. Yet, the long-term sustainability of such projects demands institutional backing -through access to credit, insurance schemes, and inclusion in national fisheries planning. Women also called for support in cold storage, pond expansion, and transport - a signal that they are ready to scale, if only the system would support them.
The WEPSE (Women Entrepreneurship Project through Private Sector Engagement, the initiative, launched in 2014 by Oxfam Novib and Indus Consortium) model has proven that sustainable livelihoods are best built not in vocational training centres alone, but through the thoughtful revival and strengthening of traditional knowledge and skills. By recognising women as active economic agents rather than passive recipients of aid, the project has enabled them to drive meaningful change - not only in their own lives, but across entire communities. In light of today’s environmental challenges and the degradation of the Indus Delta, the project’s name could aptly evolve to reflect its broader impact: ‘Women Empowerment in promoting a sustainable environment’.
• Use what they know: Empowerment comes faster when interventions enhance existing knowledge. Fisherwomen, already adept at aquatic life, simply needed tools and training to professionalise their skill.
• Individual ownership yields accountability: Ponds given to individuals - not shared groups - led to higher productivity, better maintenance, and a sense of pride.
• Market access: Eliminating middlemen and connecting directly to buyers doubled profits and gave women control over pricing.
The continued success of the project - more than a decade since its inception - stands as a rare case study in true sustainability. It proves that with the right mix of local engagement, gender-sensitive planning, and resource investment, even the most marginalised can build futures of dignity and independence.
As Pakistan struggles with deepening economic and climate crises, the fisherwomen of Badin offer a simple yet profound lesson: resilience lies in the roots. Investing in what people already know, trust, and cherish - be it their relationship with water, community, or craft - can yield far greater dividends than importing foreign models of development.
To replicate this success at scale, policymakers must integrate such grassroots experiences into national planning. This means formal recognition of women’s roles in the fisheries value chain, targeted infrastructure for coastal women, and participatory budgeting that includes their voices.
As I stood by the glistening crab ponds of Haji Umer Jat, watching Bhagi proudly weigh her catch for a local buyer, I was struck by a powerful truth: these women are not just adapting to a changing world - they are shaping it.
Fiza Qureshi is a development professional and an environmentalist, currently working with Climate Action Network International. Her email is
Fizaqureshi044@gmail.com
