Chumbe Island Coral Park is an example of a successful Marine Protected Area. Credit: Kizito Makoye/IPS
By Kizito Makoye
NICE, France, Jun 11 2025 – Under the surface of Tanzania’s turquoise waters, a miracle unfolds quietly every day.
Just off the coast of Zanzibar, in the Chumbe Island Coral Park, reef fish glitter like scattered gemstones, weaving between coral gardens that pulse with life. The air is heavy with salt, and the silence underwater is only broken by the rhythmic clicks of snapping shrimp and the steady heartbeat of the sea itself. Sea turtles slither over hard corals. Butterflyfish dart like flashes of sunlight. It’s a living display—one of the most pristine marine ecosystems in East Africa.
And it might have been a thing of the past…
Three decades ago, this vibrant reef was on the verge of collapse. Unregulated fishing, reef blasting, and coral bleaching were turning once-vibrant habitats into underwater graveyards. But today, Chumbe stands as a glimmer of hope—a thriving marine sanctuary wholly managed by a private conservation initiative and proof of the power of local stewardship in a world waking up too slowly to an unfolding ocean crisis.
“If we save the sea, we save our world,” Sir David Attenborough whispers in the final scene of Ocean, his swan song to marine life. A humpback whale glides across the screen, her calf pressing gently against her side. “The ocean still has the power to heal,” he says. “All it asks of us is to let it breathe.”
At the recent UN Ocean Conference in Nice, Tanzania’s ocean story drew quiet admiration in global hallways increasingly crowded with diplomatic speeches and pledges. As policymakers debated the legal frameworks for deep-sea mining and delegates exchanged notes on 30×30 goals, one African nation presented a blueprint that blends science, law, and community with palpable urgency.
Chumbe: A Living Laboratory of Hope
Chumbe Island Coral Park, established in the mid-1990s, was one of the first marine protected areas (MPAs) in the region to be managed privately, without government funding. Its genesis was simple but bold: protect what remains before it’s gone. No fishing. No anchor damage. No pollution. No greenwashing.
The result? A thriving marine habitat where coral cover reaches over 90 percent—unheard of in many parts of the Indian Ocean. Rare species like giant groupers, humphead wrasses, and endangered hawksbill turtles breed undisturbed. Underwater, it feels like a lost world—alive, balanced, and breathing.
“Chumbe is proof that conservation isn’t a luxury—it’s survival,” says Rukia Hassan, a local marine guide trained by the park. “Our ocean is our life. Without it, we have nothing.”
And the reef gives back. The protected area replenishes nearby fishing zones through the spillover effect. Local communities, once skeptical, are now stewards and beneficiaries. Through ecotourism, jobs have been created, schools funded, and marine education embedded into Zanzibar’s youth culture.
“People thought banning fishing here would starve us,” says fisherman Salum Juma from nearby Mbweni village. “But now we see more fish than ever—on the reef and in our nets.”
Tanzania’s Ocean Strategy: Beyond Promises
While many nations arrive at global summits armed with pledges, Tanzania has quietly built its marine protection framework from the seafloor up. The National Marine Ecosystem Management Strategy outlines ambitious conservation targets across its 1,400-kilometer coastline, with a growing network of MPAs.
Leading the charge is Danstan Johnny Shimbo, Director of Legal Services at the Vice President’s Office. At the Ocean Summit, his message was clear: “We don’t govern the ocean for the sake of it. We do it because our survival depends on it.”
Under his leadership, Tanzania has ratified a suite of international marine agreements and is drafting regulations for deep-sea mining, balancing economic potential with ecological limits.
“Yes, we have minerals on our seabed,” Shimbo told IPS in an exclusive interview. “But we’re not going to destroy the ocean to get them.”
Tanzania has also cracked down on blast fishing, once rampant in mainland and island coastal zones. Enforcement teams now collaborate with local communities to report violations and restore reefs. Education campaigns are working: destructive fishing is no longer seen as an act of desperation but as an attack on future generations.
“It used to be about catching more fish,” says Fatuma Ali, a mother of three from Bagamoyo. “Now we talk about catching fish next year and the year after that.”
The Global View: A Race Against Time
Yet, the ocean is in peril. At the Nice summit, Dr. Enric Sala, National Geographic Explorer and marine ecologist, delivered a haunting truth: only 3 percent of the global ocean is highly protected. To meet the 30×30 target—protecting 30 percent by 2030—85 new MPAs would need to be established every single day.
“What we’re doing right now is not enough,” Sala said. “The ocean needs courage, not half-measures.”
Countries like Sweden and Greece pledged to ban bottom trawling in MPAs. Others, like France, offered softer reforms. But in small island nations and community-led zones like Zanzibar’s Chumbe, the real conservation work is already happening.
“We’ve had enough conferences,” said Sala. “It’s time to act.”
A New Ocean Economy
What may finally turn the tide is money.
According to a recent study by National Geographic’s Pristine Seas and Dynamic Planet, every USD 1 invested in a well-managed MPA yields USD 10 in returns—from tourism and fisheries to storm protection. That economic logic is already bearing fruit in Chumbe, where ecotourism helps finance education, conservation, and livelihoods.
“MPAs aren’t a burden—they’re the smartest investment we can make,” said Kristin Rechberger, CEO of Dynamic Planet.
Tanzania’s strategy increasingly frames the ocean not just as an environmental issue but as an economic one. From fish exports to blue carbon markets and nature-based tourism, the sea is now seen as a bank—not to be emptied, but replenished.
Can Tanzania Inspire the World?
For Shimbo and others, the challenge ahead is massive. The rising pressure of climate change, industrial development, and plastic pollution threatens to undo years of progress. But Chumbe, Mafia Island Marine Park, and other MPAs remain shining examples of what’s possible.
“If a country like Tanzania, with limited resources, can do this,” said marine scientist Grace Mwakalukwa from the Institute of Resources Assessment of the University of Dar es Salaam, “then rich nations have no excuse.”
As the world wrestles with how to fund ocean protection, Tanzania is proving that community, courage, and clear rules can go further than big speeches.
A Final Plea from the Reef
Back on Chumbe, a reef shark circles a coral head while a green turtle rests in a sandy lagoon. Above, schoolchildren visit the island’s Eco-Education Center, learning how sea cucumbers filter water and parrotfish create sand. They sketch fish, laugh at hermit crabs, and speak of the ocean not as a problem but as a promise.
“We tell the children this is your inheritance,” says Rukia, the marine guide. “Protect it like you would your own home.”
The lesson is painfully clear: the world is running out of time to conserve unique marine biodiversity but not out of hope.
IPS UN Bureau Report
