From fear to fishnets: A first harvest in Matambalale

February 2, 2026

For the people of Matambalale village in Muidumbe District, insecurity has never been something discussed in meetings or read about in reports. It has been lived. In the sound of gunfire at night. In hurried departures with nothing but what could be carried. In long stretches of hunger, waiting, and uncertainty. Like much of northern Cabo Delgado, Muidumbe has spent the past eight years on the frontline of an insurgency that has burned homes, scattered families, and emptied entire villages. More than a million people across the north have been displaced, and Matambalale village has been hard hit.

Here, displacement blended into everyday life. Schools closed or operated sporadically. Health care became difficult to reach. Meals were reduced to whatever could be found, shared, or donated. In 2025, renewed attacks in Matambalale and nearby villages sent more families running once again. Temporary shelters filled quickly. Food grew scarce. Survival became the priority.

It was in this fragile setting that a modest livelihood initiative took root: community fishponds. Introduced in June 2024 and populated in June 2025 under the Immediate Stabilization and Recovery Programme, the ponds were designed to help families regain economic footing, build food security, and foster a sense of continuity amid instability. Their aim was simple yet deliberate: to give families a way to feed themselves and earn a small income without waiting for handouts or relying entirely on unpredictable rains.

On 10th December 2025, those ponds were harvested for the first time.

Photograph of several people standing in a shallow muddy river with trees in the background.

 

As nets dipped into the water, people gathered quietly along the edges. There was no ceremony at first, just watchful stillness. Then the first fish surfaced, silver in the sun, and the mood shifted. Laughter broke out. Hands clapped. Smiles spread wide. For a moment, it felt like the village exhaled.

For Manuel Fernando, the harvest carried meaning far beyond the fish itself. “It reminds us that we still know how to work, how to provide,” he remarked softly as he sorted fish into a bucket.

His words captured what many were feeling. Relief.

Far from the ponds, insecurity still stalks everyday life. In November 2025, renewed non-state armed group presence in Muidimbe forced nearly 1,600 people from their homes in Matambalale, Miteda and Lutete settlements, with women and children forming the majority of those displaced (IOM Displacement Tracking Matrix, Nov 2025). The danger continues to linger, close enough to shape daily decisions; when to move, when to farm, when to stay home. Yet by the ponds, a different tone took hold: one of optimism.

Local authorities see the harvest as a small but important step toward rebuilding what conflict has stripped away. Agriculture and fishing once sustained families across Muidumbe, and restoring those livelihoods matters as much as restoring buildings.

“These ponds give people a reason to stay,” said Mr. Selemane Insa, the District Director of Education, who represented Mr. Joao Bosco, the District Administrator. “They give people a reason to invest in their community again. They show that recovery is possible, even when circumstances are difficult.”

From the programme side, the focus has been more on restoring routine and confidence. Manuel Airone, Head of the Livelihoods Pillar, reflected on how stability often begins with ordinary acts. “When families can plan meals, earn something small, and work together, you start to see fear loosen its grip,” he said. “That is how resilience takes shape; not all at once, but slowly, through daily life.”

Speaking at the harvest, Samuel Akera, Head of the UNDP Pemba Sub-Office, echoed that sentiment. “Recovery does not arrive all at once,” he said. “It begins when people are given space to do what they already know; farm, fish, provide for their families. That is how trust in the future starts to return.”

The day ended quietly, but its impact will linger in Matambalale. The challenges ahead remain real, and the path out of crisis is uneven. But for one day, the village was not defined by what it had lost. It was defined by what it had pulled together from the water.