“The Chief Minister’s announcement of a subsidised fish policy is welcome, albeit delayed. But the problem runs deeper than mere pricing; it is systemic.
Goa allocates crores in taxpayer-funded subsidies to support the fishing community. Yet, the result is a disconnect: fishermen struggle, locals can’t afford fish, and the only consistent beneficiaries seem to be middlemen, exporters, and festival organisers.
Opposition leader Yuri Alemao rightly questioned the skewed model we’ve adopted: fish caught in Goan waters are often shipped out to markets in other states or even abroad, while locals scrounge for affordable catch.”
There was a time when the aroma of xit-kodi would waft from every Goan kitchen, fresh mackerel or kingfish sizzling in the pan—a simple, daily luxury of coastal life. Today, however, fish have begun to feel like a luxury reserved for the rich or for tourists.
For the average Goan family, eating fish every day has become an expensive proposition. Prices have soared, supply has thinned, and subsidies meant to ease the burden have done little to keep this cherished staple affordable.
The stormy debate in the Goa Assembly laid bare the crisis facing the state’s fishing sector. It is an irony, almost tragic, that a state surrounded by sea now imports fish or pays exorbitant rates for what once came to the doorstep fresh and abundant.
Where has the fish gone? Why are Goans being priced out of their own dietary heritage?
The Chief Minister’s announcement of a subsidised fish policy is welcome, albeit delayed. But the problem runs deeper than mere pricing; it is systemic.
Goa allocates crores in taxpayer-funded subsidies to support the fishing community. Yet, the result is a disconnect: fishermen struggle, locals can’t afford fish, and the only consistent beneficiaries seem to be middlemen, exporters, and festival organisers.
Opposition leader Yuri Alemao rightly questioned the skewed model we’ve adopted: fish caught in Goan waters are often shipped out to markets in other states or even abroad, while locals scrounge for affordable catch.
The recent ₹4 crore Fish Festival became the lightning rod for criticism – an event that did little to resolve ground realities but plenty to dazzle visitors. Are such events meant to support the fishing industry or merely to provide glossy optics for governance?
Tourism, no doubt, plays a part in this mess.
High-end hotels and seafood restaurants, catering to both domestic and foreign tourists, are willing to pay top rupee for fresh catch. This demand warps the local market – fish gets diverted to where profits are highest, not where it is most needed. With no regulatory checks on how much of the daily catch is reserved for local markets, Goans are left scrambling for leftovers.
Further complicating the picture is the inefficiency of the current enforcement system.
Fisheries Minister Nilkanth Halarnkar claimed drones, police, and joint task forces were being deployed to crack down on illegal fishing practices like bull trawling and LED fishing.
These destructive methods not only damage marine ecosystems but also deplete fish stocks during breeding seasons. The seasonal fishing ban, meant to allow marine life to replenish, seems to have yielded minimal success. After two months of no fishing, prices should fall with increased catch, but they don’t. Why? Because the fish is already earmarked for high-paying buyers or exported under the radar.
And then there is the elephant in the room: the unchecked involvement of middlemen. AAP MLA Venzy Viegas made a crucial point about the need to eliminate these intermediaries who siphon off profits from both ends—paying fishermen less and charging buyers more. Most of these agents are not Goan, and their control over fish markets is tightening. Traditional fisherfolk are either pushed out or relegated to the sidelines, while outsiders dominate the trade.
MLA Cruz Silva highlighted yet another worrying trend: the erosion of local livelihoods.
In many Goan towns and coastal villages, traditional fish-selling jobs that locals once held are being taken over by non-Goan traders. This shift not only undermines local employment but also further disconnects Goans from their own food supply chain.
The Chief Minister’s promise of introducing cold chain storage and fish quality labs is a step in the right direction. But infrastructure alone won’t resolve the issue.
What is needed is a comprehensive fisheries policy that reorients the sector to serve Goans first, before exports, before festivals, before tourists.
It’s time for Goa to reclaim its fish. That means ensuring transparent subsidy use, regulating exports, setting up direct-sell platforms to link fishermen with local consumers, and reserving a substantial percentage of daily catch for domestic sale.
It also means the political will to act against powerful interests in the fishing lobby.
Fish is not just food in Goa – it’s culture, identity, and livelihood. When Goans can no longer afford to eat what their waters provide, it is more than a market failure—it is a betrayal.
