Fatou Jarjue Restores Mangroves Protecting Banjul

At dawn, before the morning heat settles over the coastline of Banjul, The Gambia, Fatou Jarjue waits for the tide to recede. She pulls on her socks and gloves, steps into the thick mud along the edge of the Tanbi Wetland, and guides her wooden canoe through narrow channels framed by dense, tangled mangrove roots. Inside the boat, empty pans sit waiting for a different kind of harvest: crabs hiding beneath the surface rather than the oysters gathered during the peak season.

Her brother, Musa, follows behind in a smaller canoe when his schedule permits, maintaining a watchful eye as she moves deeper into the wetland. On days when he is occupied elsewhere, Jarjue navigates the winding channels entirely alone. The salt-tolerant coastal trees protect shorelines from erosion and flooding while providing the oysters, crabs, and fish that sustain her family’s livelihood and shield her coastal community.

Growing Up With the Rhythms of Ndangan

Jarjue grew up in Ndangan, a small settlement of roughly 300 residents situated about 2 kilometers (1.2 miles) from Banjul, the nation’s capital. Like many children in the area, she learned the daily rhythms of the wetland early in life. At the age of 12, she began accompanying her mother into the mangroves, mastering the difficult work of harvesting oysters and catching fish and crabs. The forest served as both an early classroom and an economic lifeline.

Over the years, however, the environment shifted noticeably. Rising seas, changing weather patterns, and advancing coastal erosion began to threaten the fragile coastline. Rather than continuing to take exclusively from the ecosystem, Jarjue decided to help rebuild it. Today, she returns regularly not just to work, but to inspect young seedlings, replace damaged vegetation, and monitor areas requiring intervention.

For Jarjue, conservation and survival are deeply intertwined, and she noted that the mangroves are a part of their lives, adding that a healthier ecosystem directly strengthens the future of her community.

Oysters, Crabs, and The Gambia’s Seasonal Harvest Rules

Only months earlier, the waterways were crowded with women collecting oysters attached directly to mangrove roots. With the arrival of The Gambia’s rainy season, oyster harvesting pauses, directing workers toward crabs and fishing until the shellfish season eventually reopens. For Jarjue, the shift in daily catch is temporary, but her dedication to the forest remains permanent.

As she paddles deeper into the wetland, large oysters cling to the mangrove roots, left entirely untouched to grow for another season. While crab harvesting provides vital income during the rains, oysters remain the more financially lucrative catch. A milk-can measure of oysters sells for about 100 dalasis ($1.34), commanding higher demand at local markets. Jarjue explained that oysters are difficult to harvest, but that is where the money is.

The annual closure of oyster harvesting is sometimes misconstrued as an indicator that the shellfish become poisonous during the wet months. Marine scientist Dawda Saine clarifies that the rationale is far more complex, grounded in ecology, conservation, and public health.

Dawda Saine, a marine scientist via Al Jazeera, stated that they do not close the season because oysters are poisonous, but rather to protect the resource and because, during the rains, oysters filter everything in the water, including increased run-off, which can affect their quality, taste, and safety.

The restriction forms a key component of The Gambia’s Oyster and Cockle Co-management Plan. The policy gives local oyster stocks time to reproduce, regenerate, and grow while reducing human pressure on the population. During the rainy season, increased runoff carries waste and other materials into the waterways where oysters feed by filtering water, making undisturbed periods essential for protecting both the aquatic ecosystem and consumers.

Guardians of the Tanbi Wetland Ecosystem

Jarjue is far from alone in her conservation efforts. Several women in Ndangan have stepped forward to act as regular guardians of the ecosystem. Among them is 48-year-old Sussan Colley, who has harvested oysters, fished, and collected crabs since her teenage years. Colley remembers when declining mangrove cover began taking a direct toll on local catches, resulting in fewer oysters, smaller harvests, and mounting economic uncertainty for families dependent on the wetland.

For these women, respecting seasonal management rules and actively planting new trees represent direct investments in their community’s long-term survival. As weather patterns continue to challenge West Africa’s low-lying coastal areas, the ongoing restoration work around Banjul demonstrates how traditional harvesters are taking ecological defense into their own hands.