- The island nation of São Tomé and Príncipe is home to unique species and rich marine ecosystems, including threatened sea turtles.
- In 2014, the country enacted a law banning the trade and possession of sea turtles, which, paired with local conservation programs, has significantly reduced turtle hunting and trade in the country.
- Local communities have become key players in sea turtle conservation, but while many former turtle traders have adapted to new livelihoods, some, particularly women, struggle due to lack of skills, resources and financial capital, highlighting the need for ongoing support and tailored solutions.
- Education and marketing campaigns and trust building with local leaders have helped change public attitudes toward sea turtle conservation, demonstrating that involving and understanding local communities is often crucial for long-term conservation efforts.
Five of the world’s seven species of marine turtles come to the islands of São Tomé and Príncipe, in Africa’s Gulf of Guinea, to breed or forage. The islanders patrol nesting sites, survey adult turtles at sea, educate students about the animals’ life cycle, work for ecotourism operations, and sell jewelry made from plastic waste or cow horn instead of tortoiseshell, the traditional material of choice.
It wasn’t always that way.
Traditionally, locals viewed sea turtles as seafood, and often harvested them as a source of both food and income. But this hunting also endangered sea turtle populations and marine ecosystems.
“The year I arrived here [in 2013], 357 sea turtles were killed,” says Sara Vieira, a marine biologist from Portugal and coordinator of conservation NGO Programa Tatô. “You could find sea turtle meat and sea turtle eggs in every market and São Tomé shop. It was quite shocking.”
All this changed in 2014, when the government of São Tomé and Príncipe approved a law that was decades in the making. It criminalized the possession, trade and transportation of sea turtles in both São Tomé and Príncipe, the two islands that make up this nation.
But having lived there for nearly a decade, Vieira says, she knew that, like anyone who faces a disruption to the way they make a living, getting some locals to embrace the legislation and pursue alternative livelihoods would be difficult.
“We’re talking with people who have hunted a species since childhood, like their father and mother,” she says. “It is part of their culture and history.”
So, to better understand the positive and negative impacts this conservation legislation had on the key actors involved in the sea turtle trade, Vieira helped coordinate nearly 400 face-to-face interviews in Portuguese and Farro Creole.
The interviews were conducted just as the new law came into force, and again eight years later, in 2022.
The survey results were published in a recent paper in Biodiversity and Conservation, the first study to comprehensively assess the socioeconomic impacts of sea turtle conservation efforts in the country. This is something Viera says conservation efforts haven’t always considered.
“Sometimes in conservation, a researcher arrives, and the communication is not good,” she says. “You have to build a relationship of trust.”
A place like nowhere else
The islands of São Tomé and Príncipe are part of the Cameroon Line, a ridge of volcanoes running from what is today the Cameroon-Nigeria border out into the Gulf of Guinea. Their isolation from the African mainland for millions of years has given rise to a biodiversity so rich that the islands are sometimes referred to as the “Galápagos of Africa.”
The nation hosts thriving marine ecosystems with mangroves, seagrass meadows and rocky volcanic reefs, as well as plant and animal species found nowhere else on Earth. It’s also home to about 210,000 people, most of them on the larger island of São Tomé, and for whom a healthy ocean is vital.
“Here, it’s all about fish,” Vieira says. “We don’t have chickens or cows. More than 90% of the protein comes from the sea. So it’s really important to maintain the balance of these ecosystems.”
Every year, the island nation hosts five threatened species of marine turtles that come to the beaches to lay their eggs or forage. These include hawksbill turtles (Eretmochelys imbricata), listed ass critically endangered on the IUCN Red List; green turtles (Chelonia mydas), listed as endangered; and leatherback (Dermochelys coriacea), loggerhead (Caretta caretta) and olive ridley turtles (Lepidochelys olivacea), all listed as vulnerable. (Programa Tatô is named after the local word for the olive ridley sea turtle.)
Locals have changed the way they perceive the turtle visitors in recent decades. What used to be a source of protein to consume or product to sell is now understood to be an important part of an ecosystem they depend on, and which, if cared for properly, can benefit them.
From trust to transformation
In the 2022 survey, most respondents said they were no longer involved or invested in the sea turtle trade.
Former turtle fishers have switched their harvesting efforts to other marine species, and when they accidentally catch a sea turtle in their gill or seine nets, they release it, knowing the market for it is no longer viable or socially acceptable, the survey found.
Harvesters, traders and fishers — some of whom have switched professions entirely, to pig farming, cacao production, tourism ventures, or conservation work instead — told the researchers about how the strong turtle conservation efforts had impacted them.
“Now, besides being a fisherman, I am also a beach ranger. In the past, I would bring every sea turtle I would see resting on the surface, but today, I protect them,” a fisher told the researchers.
Education campaigns facilitated by trusted people — religious leaders, teachers, local celebrities —as well as radio and social media have helped inform public opinion on why sea turtles matter, the study found.
“My son learned at school that we shouldn’t eat sea turtles because they ensure the productivity of our seas, and it is forbidden by law,” a former turtle market trader told the researchers.
And for many, alternative livelihoods offer a more consistent income.
“Today, I have more means to ensure food on the table for my family, not only because I have several sources of income, but also because I have a monthly salary as a sea turtle ranger and as a crafter,” a former beach harvester told the Programa Tatô researchers.
Viera says she wants to stress how valuable those who once exploited sea turtles are to the conservation of these marine reptiles. One particular person comes to mind.
“Didi was a spearfisher and was super-efficient, and the main supplier for the crafters, especially because he knew all the foraging grounds of green and hawksbill sea turtles,” she says. “He understood that ‘if I continue hunting, in the end, my sons are not going to have a healthy sea to fish and to survive.’ When people saw the main sea turtle hunter stop hunting sea turtles, they started to be more interested. He was a really important piece of our efforts and continues to be.”
Acknowledging that transitioning can be hard
But for many, the transition hasn’t been as easy.
Sixty percent of respondents, including many women, said they made less money since conservation efforts were legislated and enforced.
“I learned from my mother, who learned to kill sea turtles and sell its products with my grandmother,” said a woman interviewed for the study. “I am 62 years old, and I don’t know how to write, how to read, or how to sell fish like the other traders. How am I supposed to be able to change my main source of income at this age?”
Respondents named several barriers to replacing their former income. These included a lack of skills and tools to pursue an alternative livelihood, little financial capital, and peer pressure from friends and family to continue trading in sea turtles.
Tortoiseshell crafters, for example, were expected to use cow horn instead of hawksbill turtle shells. However, only a few were able to import cow horn or access the tools needed to work with them.
“If you don’t find the proper alternative livelihood for these actors, then the capture of sea turtles could increase because, in the end, it’s about economic stability,” Vieira says. “We have different cultures, but in the end, all of us want the same. We all want to have a good quality of life and provide a good quality of life for our families. Sometimes we forget that.”
Although some key actors in São Tomé have had some trouble finding a viable source of income, 98% of respondents in Programa Tatô’s published interviews said they approve of the sea turtle conservation law and understand the ecological significance of sea turtles to the marine ecosystem they rely on.
Príncipe also a pilot for conservation done well
About 145 kilometers (90 miles) northeast of its sister island, Príncipe has its own conservation champions. The situation there, however, is a little different.
In 2009, five years before the national law was enacted, Príncipe adopted its own regional sea turtle conservation legislation, banning the hunting of the animals and the trading of their products.
In 2012, the island became part of UNESCO’s World Network of Biosphere Reserves. And with fewer than 10,000 residents living on the island (compared to 200,000 on São Tomé), conservation workers on Príncipe have used this to their advantage.
“We could literally knock on each of the 8,000 people’s doors and talk with them and understand their situation, problems, and needs and work with them to find solutions,” says Estrela Matilde, former executive director of Fundação Príncipe, a conservation NGO on the island.
Fundação Príncipe has partnered with local and global agencies to conduct rigorous beach and ocean monitoring programs day and night, and provide business mentorship and support for people transitioning away from sea turtle harvesting and trade.
And strong environmental education and social media programs have been integral to shifting behaviors that support sea turtle conservation.
“It’s no longer acceptable to consume turtle,” Matilde says. “It’s no longer part of the culture. All these years of efforts had that result.”
Although she lived there for many years and raised her 4-year-old child on the island, Matilde no longer works or lives in Príncipe. She says she’s proud, however, of the work Príncipe has done and confident it will continue to be a leader, showing other communities how conservation can work for everyone.
“I see Príncipe as an example of how conservation needs to be done with and for the people,” Matilde says. “It’s possible to live together and show people that species, nature and biodiversity can actually make things worth more, and they can benefit from that.”
Conservation must always have conversations
The efforts of organizations like Programa Tatô and Fundação Príncipe, alongside local champions, illustrate how involvement can drive substantial change.
These initiatives have not only helped to preserve threatened sea turtle populations — in 2013, for example, 357 sea turtles were harvested on São Tomé, compared to only 23 last year —but have also fostered a deeper understanding of the intrinsic value of biodiversity among the local population.
However, the transition from traditional practices to sustainable livelihoods isn’t without challenges. And this is something that Vieira urges conservation organizations and governments to continuously assess.
“Most of the time in conservation we say that we need to [create] awareness for people to understand why it’s important to protect these species,” Vieira says. “But it’s really important to first study what is happening in that country to be more effective. I think that was the main reason why we were so successful.”
The story on São Tomé and Príncipe has a lesson larger than sea turtle preservation. It shows that conservation efforts often do better over the long term when they integrate the needs and realities of local people.
“People have really important local knowledge that is essential to preserve what we want to preserve,” Vieira says.
Banner image: Children on Príncipe participate in the release of baby sea turtles and learn the importance of protecting marine life on their island. Image courtesy of Fundação Príncipe.
Citations:
Vieira, S., Jiménez, V., Ferreira-Airaud, B., Pina, A., Soares, V., Tiwari, M., … Nuno, A. (2024). Perceived social benefits and drawbacks of sea turtle conservation efforts in a globally important sea turtle rookery. Biodiversity and Conservation, 33(3), 1185-1205. doi:10.1007/s10531-024-02793-1
Ceríaco, L. M., Lima, R. F., Melo, M., & Bell, R. C. (2022). Biodiversity in the Gulf of Guinea oceanic islands: A synthesis. In Biodiversity of the Gulf of Guinea Oceanic Islands: Science and conservation (pp. 1-12). Springer Nature. doi:10.1007/978-3-031-06153-0_1
Ferreira-Airaud, B., Schmitt, V., Vieira, S., de Carvalho do Rio, M. J., Neto, E., & Pereira, J. (2022). The sea turtles of São Tomé and Príncipe: Diversity, distribution, and conservation status. In Biodiversity of the Gulf of Guinea Oceanic Islands: Science and conservation (pp. 535-553). Springer Nature. doi:10.1007/978-3-031-06153-0_20
As a megaport rises in Cameroon, a delicate coastal ecosystem ebbs
Credits
