On the coral islands between Kenya and Somalia, the Bajuni people have navigated by tidal song for centuries. Willys Osore and Ali Shebwana worked with elders from six communities to record the oral traditions that bind an ancient seafaring culture to its waters.
Artist Fiker Solomon weaves tapestries from yarn, jute, and natural sponges gathered near Lake Victoria, turning organic materials into ecological storytelling. In conversation with SeaVoice, she shares how the Nile, Bunyonyi, and Buujjagaali Falls have shaped both her art and her understanding of water as heritage.
A poem on the waters of Kilifi becomes a mirror for inner emotion and contemplation. Hellen Masido explores the ocean as both refuge and reflection of the human spirit.
The women who harvest dagaa on Lake Victoria wake before dawn to read the water and gather the small fish that feed millions. Their work embodies both dignity and economic power in one of Africa's most vital fisheries.
SeaVoice was born out of looking for the human in all things ocean. Working in ocean conservation, we are usually shown the same images: a polar bear on disappearing ice, pristine (or plastic-covered) shorelines, a turtle stuck in a fishing net. In this world, human inventions and interventions are typically seen as the problem, posed as faceless executives and careless consumers—either developing, buying, or throwing away the problem.
Yet my experience, as a scientist working closely with coastal communities, is very different.When I look at the ocean, I see people. I see communities who have fished, traded, and travelled its waters for thousands of years, coming together under a common banner. I have watched octopus fishers in Mozambique throw back their catch. I have seen entire coastlines in the Philippines protected using Indigenous management methods. I have witnessed ocean activists come together, internationally, to argue for the ocean as a human right. Even in my home in Scotland, I have seen a community-managed area reshape how we protect the sea.
These may seem like small moments of hope in the face of a century of ocean degradation. But the idea that the ocean is an essential part of our culture, our heritage, and our home is centuries old. SeaVoice exists to bring these moments together into a single message: that humans can be part of the solution, rather than the problem. If we protect the good in us, we can protect the good out there. You, the reader, are part of this shared heritage. Your actions matter. They help sway the tide toward sustainability for all.
Here, you will hear from many voices—communities and indigenous people on the frontline of the climate crisis, artists, activists, policymakers, academics, curators, and more. All are welcome. Our door remains open.This is a space for stories that remind us: the ocean is not separate from us—and neither is its future. I hope you find inspiration in these stories.
