Abbi is never in a hurry. He moves slowly, as if nothing is urgent in life. Spend the day fishing; It is his job and his passion. He leaves home early, arrives at the lake and searches the waters. He lights a cigarette and smokes it slowly, enjoying the smoke and nicotine. Look at the height of the sun. He looks at the tide. Today it is low, there will be little concentration of fish. He takes off his shoes and leaves his flip-flops next to the shore. With his net and a drum to which he has added an old rubber tire, he slowly enters the lagoon, until the liquid reaches almost his knees. As if asking permission to the fetish that tradition says protects the lake. Leave the container next to him. And only then start deploying the network. He secures the rope tightly on his right wrist, then separates the leads and takes the mesh between his fingers. Grab the tip, swing your body and cast the rig not far away. It describes a circle in the air, whistles in its flight, extends in all its roundness, falls on the surface causing a dry sound and sinks slowly dragged by the weights of its edges.
Abbi waits a few minutes before starting to pick up the net. Slowly pull it, fold the mesh and reach its edge. There, in the pockets that surround it, a couple of not very large fish have been trapped. He takes them carefully, places them in the drum that he has near him and begins the whole operation again. Throw, pick up. After four attempts and about five specimens, the fisherman takes a break. He takes the pack of tobacco out of his pocket, takes out a cigarette, lights it and smokes relaxedly while exploring the waters around him. Once the pause is over, he moves a few meters to his right and begins his task again.
Abbi says she learned the trade from her father. Enjoy it. He wouldn’t want to change it for another job. There are fewer and fewer young people in the town who are dedicated to fishing. The majority emigrate to the capital in search of other jobs. But he doesn’t plan to do it. He has enough to live on, he assures. His wife, Kayi, sells the fish he gets at the market along with the crabs she herself catches by throwing baskets from a boat on the lake.
Kayi is not as convinced as her husband that fishing is the best job for them. He complains that he leaves almost no profit and, with three children, the expenses are many at home: school, clothes, food. She wouldn’t mind migrating and looking for a more lucrative occupation in the city. Furthermore, he thinks that his children will have more opportunities there. Abbi smiles as she listens to her wife. He takes out a new cigarette and lights it. Slowly exhale the smoke and shake your head. “Nowhere else would we have as much peace and happiness as here,” he says.
