Inside India's Kasimedu fishing harbour, where women are the true heroes

On an unusual Sunday morning in Chennai's historic Kasimedu fishing harbour, the scene diverges from the norm. While much of the city still sleeps, Kasimedu in northern Chennai is a bustling hub of activity. Women play a central role in selling the day's fresh catch, rickshaw drivers tirelessly transport fish to and from the boats, and young workers diligently clean bait in spacious barrels before preparing it for shipment.

In a modern twist, as the men return with their bountiful seafood hauls from the ocean, it's primarily the women who take charge of the sales. Their voices call out the names of various fish species, creating a symphony of market activity that resonates throughout Kasimedu on any typical Sunday.

The labour roles at the harbour are distinctly outlined. Men primarily head out to sea to engage in fishing, with some choosing small catamarans while others opt for longer trips aboard larger diesel boats. Upon their return to the dock, they sell their catch to the fisherwomen, who then oversee the auction of the highest-quality fish.

Here, the fisherwomen proudly declare their equal footing with the men, a balance not often found in other contexts. They stress their vital role within this ecosystem, highlighting that the men's functionality greatly depends on the essential task of selling the catch, a role predominantly fulfilled by women.
 

Kasimedu's women form a close-knit and entrepreneurial community. The bulk of fish sales are effectively managed by these women who operate as a cohesive team. While one might expect fierce competition and rivalry among fish vendors, this community operates like a tightly-knit family, offering mutual support and assistance.

Every morning, as the sun rises, 80-year-old Shanthi embarks on her daily routine by purchasing fish from larger suppliers and establishing her stall in the heart of the harbour. "Sundays are the peak of sales for me," she remarks, determined to compensate for any previous losses on these busy days. Selling fish is not just a job for Shanthi; it's a skill she has honed over the years. This trade is a family legacy, passed down from her mother. She's committed to not just carrying on the tradition but also improving upon it.

For 35-year-old Muthu, a preference for mobility over sitting in one spot defines her approach to selling fish. She carries a tin container filled with fish around her waist, vocally promoting her merchandise. "This way, I can reach more customers, which translates to increased sales and greater earnings," she enthusiastically shares.

In addition to the hundreds of women engaged in fish vending at Kasimedu, a diverse array of women can be found performing various tasks. Some women specialise in cleaning and preparing seafood to cater to customer preferences. 

79-year-old fisherwoman named Kalaiselvi has a forward-thinking vision for the future of fish sales. She envisions a more structured and efficient system that can benefit generations to come. Kalaiselvi points out that despite their fish being exported to other nations, the dock area is marred by disarray. There's a glaring absence of proper seating and shelter for their stalls. She firmly believes that with government support, including improved fish storage facilities and enhanced organisation within the trade, they could significantly increase their business and thrive even more.