Fisherfolk recall the lost glory of a once-bountiful Wetland to Naseer Ahmad Dar
Through the memories of three elderly fisherfolk, the story of Wular Lake reveals a world of abundance, biodiversity, traditional livelihoods and a deep connection between people and nature.
There are stories hidden in the memories of those who have spent their entire lives beside Wular Lake. Stories that are rarely written in history books, stories that cannot be fully understood through government reports or scientific surveys, and stories that deserve to be heard before they disappear with the passing of generations.
For Abdul Aziz Malla (65), Abdul Samad Dar (62) and Sunmali Begum (60) Wular Lake is not merely a water body. It is a living memory of their childhood, their culture, their struggles and a time when the lake provided almost everything a fishing family needed to survive.
As they recall the past their words paint a picture of a Wular that was once extraordinarily rich in aquatic biodiversity and natural resources. They remember a lake that supported more than 40 species of fish, sustained thousands of fishing families and provided an abundance of water chestnuts, lotus stems, fodder and other wetland resources.
A lake that fed thousands!
According to their recollections, Wular Lake was once among the most productive inland water bodies in the region. Historical accounts and community memories speak of annual fish production reaching approximately 10,000 metric tonnes during its more prosperous years. Water chestnut and lotus stem production, together with other wetland resources, was also estimated by the community at around 4,000 metric tonnes.
For fisherfolk, these were not simply production figures. They represented food security, employment, dignity and economic independence.
Fish was the main source of livelihood for thousands of households. Water chestnuts (Gaer) and lotus stems (Nadru) provided additional income, while wetland vegetation and fodder supported livestock and agricultural activities. Every part of the lake had its importance, and almost nothing went to waste.
Abdul Aziz Malla recalls a time when fishing was not merely an occupation but a way of life passed from one generation to another. The lake was generous, and families could depend on its resources throughout different seasons. Fishing grounds were productive, traditional knowledge guided fishing practices, and people understood the seasonal rhythms of the water.
Abdul Samad Dar remembers the diversity of fish that once inhabited the lake. Different varieties were commonly found, and fishing communities had a close understanding of their habitats, breeding seasons and movements. The abundance of fish made it possible for families to earn their livelihoods without travelling long distances in search of productive fishing grounds.
Sunmali Begum: The forgotten contribution of women
For Sunmali Begum, the memories of Wular are closely connected with the contribution of women. Women were not simply members of fishing households; they were active participants in the wetland economy. From collecting and processing water chestnuts to preparing and selling lotus stems and fish, women played an important role in sustaining household incomes. Their work often began early in the morning and continued throughout the day.
The lake provided women with opportunities to contribute financially to their families while preserving traditional knowledge and practices. Today, as natural resources decline, these opportunities have also become increasingly uncertain.
Her recollections remind us that the degradation of Wular Lake is not only an environmental issue. It is also a matter of women's economic independence, community identity and social justice.
From abundance to uncertainty
The three elderly fisherfolk express concern about the transformation they have witnessed over the decades. The lake that once supported diverse fish populations and abundant wetland produce is now facing serious ecological challenges.
Siltation, shrinking water channels, degradation of aquatic habitats, pollution, changes in water flow and the decline of natural vegetation have affected the lake's productivity. Traditional fishing communities are among the first to experience these changes because their livelihoods depend directly on the health of the ecosystem.
The declining availability of fish and other wetland resources has created economic uncertainty. Younger generations are increasingly reluctant to enter fishing because they see fewer opportunities and greater financial hardships.
Many traditional fishing families are struggling to maintain their livelihoods, while valuable indigenous knowledge is gradually disappearing.
Listening to those who know the lake
The memories of Abdul Aziz Malla, Abdul Samad Dar and Sunmali Begum are more than personal recollections. They represent an important form of community knowledge that can contribute to the restoration and sustainable management of Wular Lake.
Their experiences offer valuable insights into historical fish diversity, seasonal fishing patterns, traditional resource management and the interconnected relationship between the lake and its dependent communities.
If Wular Lake is to be restored, the voices of its traditional inhabitants must become part of the conservation process. Scientific research and government interventions are important, but they must be complemented by the experiences and knowledge of those who have lived with the lake for generations.
Conservation cannot succeed by treating fisherfolk merely as beneficiaries of development schemes. They must be recognised as stakeholders, rightsholders, knowledge-holders and active partners in lake restoration.
Saving Wular means saving its people
The story of Wular Lake is a reminder that wetlands are not simply geographical features or reservoirs of water. They are ecosystems that sustain biodiversity, livelihoods, food systems and cultural traditions.
The memories shared by these three elderly fisherfolk raise an important question: If Wular once supported such remarkable biodiversity and provided so much to local communities, what can we do today to restore its ecological health and revive its traditional livelihood systems?
Their stories should be documented, their knowledge should be respected, and their concerns should guide future conservation strategies.
Perhaps the greatest lesson from their memories is that the restoration of Wular Lake cannot be measured only by the quantity of water it holds or the infrastructure developed around it. Its success must also be measured by the return of fish, the revival of water chestnuts and lotus stems, the restoration of habitats and, above all, the dignity and prosperity of the communities that depend on it.
Wular Lake is not just a lake. It is a history of livelihoods, a treasury of biodiversity and a home to generations of fisherfolk. If we lose their stories today, we risk losing an essential part of Wular's living heritage tomorrow.
Save Water! Save Fish! Save Fisher People!
Save Wular Lake Campaign
Naseer Ahmad Dar
is a practicing fisherman, an activist and member National Federation of Small-Scale Fishworkers (NFSF) working committee based in Kashmir.
