Cambodian villagers prepare to drop a culvert in the water to build a fish sanctuary as part of their effort to protect their community lake in Kampong Chhnang province.

 

“Our future survival depends on the fish in the lake so I cannot be deterred by their threats,” said Khat Khon, armed with a walkie-talkie which he uses for his lake patrol job.

 He is one of those villagers who have banded together to preserve the Krachab lake in Peam Chrey village, Kampong Chhnang province. They were spurred into action by concerns that an out-of-control catch long practiced by their fellow residents was threatening to wipe out fish species from the lake. Their efforts have now paid off. The fish have made a comeback in abundance that, according to some of the villagers, in the dry season they can sometimes even be caught with bare hands.

Creating a three-hectare protected area was all it took for the fish population to return. The protected area is part of a seven-hectare swampy ground on an island in the Tonle Sap river. Beneath the water, 35 concrete culverts, each measuring one metre in diameter, have been submerged to give the fish a home. Surrounded by barbed wires, it is a no-fishing zone but the villagers make their catch in the outlying parameters.

 “The enclosure is very important for fish to spawn, and from here it can spread its offspring elsewhere,” said Ieng Phalla, the village’s conservation leader.

Fish is the main source of protein for Cambodians,  the majority of whom live in the countryside.

The Peam Chrey’s villagers, who are rice farmers, remember times when they could not catch enough fish for daily consumption. Fishing used to be a free-for-all exercise. People used to stun or kill the fish by using electric fishing gear.  In some cases, they used very small mesh net like mosquito nets that trapped not just big but also tiny species. 

But three years ago, after receiving funding from UNDP, the community started the conservation group. This included employing villagers to patrol the lake at night when poaching is rife. They work in shifts and on a voluntary basis, and not only men can be part of it.

“I used to be scared of the poachers before, but now I think they are more scared of us,” said 51-year-old Phan Savuth, a patrol woman. She said that, after they were caught, poachers were usually fined and made to sign a promise not to use illegal fishing gear again. “Poaching has decreased because of our vigilance,” said Phan Savuth, who also heads a village savings group that pools money to lend to its members in emergency and at a low interest rate.

When UNDP financial support to the initiative concluded in 2007, the village’s conservation leader Ieng Phalla recalled his worries that, the volunteers would lose motivation, leaving the lake to fall prey to poachers like in the old days again. But he said the villagers’ “firm resolve” to protect one of their main livelihood sources has since proved him wrong. 

  
Lake conservation can go as far as to help maintain harmony between local communities as well, said Duong Sophat, a conservation leader in Teuk Hot village, about one-hour by boat from Peam Chrey.  He recalled how overfishing in his village’s Chh’oeung Damrey lake used to force the residents to stray to other communities to fish, subsequently prompting discontent from their neighbors.

But that is no longer an issue after a lake conservation group was founded in his village three years ago also with the help from UNDP. Each night 15 volunteers take turn patrolling the lake to protect the fish. Because of the community’s efforts, he said the lake has recently become a destination for recreational fishing for people from other towns also.