Living in Pemba | Why People Refuse to Leave This Giant Tree in the Indian Ocean |

This is Pemba, a wild island you've certainly never heard of. Here, dense forests are the domain of thousands of giant coconut crabs, while high in the treetops live bats with wingspans of more than one meter, found naturally nowhere else on Earth. Hidden behind ancient Muslim villages are countless legends of witches, magic, and invisible powers, giving Pemba its long-standing reputation as the most mysterious land in East Africa. Nature was once so generous that women didn't even need to know how to swim to make a living from the ocean. All they had to do was wait for the tide to go out, then walk into the sea, grow seaweed, and earn enough to support their families. But now, the very ocean that once sustained them is threatening to take everything away. The sea is growing warmer. Seaweed is slowly dying. The farms that once provided a livelihood are now becoming a source of fear. To keep their seaweed alive, women must learn to venture into deeper water, overcoming their fear of the waves and even the modest dress codes of their Muslim communities. So what is life really like on this extraordinary island? And how can the people of Pemba continue to survive when nature itself is threatening them? The answer will leave you in awe. To find Pemba on the map, you have to look toward the eastern coast of Africa, where the waves of the Indian Ocean wash against Tanzania's shores day and night. About 50 kilometers from the mainland, Pemba appears like a strip of emerald floating in the ocean. To the south lies Unguja, approximately 50 kilometers away. Both belong to the Zanzibar archipelago, yet nature has given them two very different appearances. Pemba covers nearly 1,000 square kilometers, stretching 65 kilometers from north to south and measuring roughly 13 to 18 kilometers across. But what makes this island truly special lies deep beneath the water. For millions of years, Pemba has been separated from mainland Africa By an enormous underwater trench. The Pemba channel reaches depths of up to 800 meters in some places, keeping the island isolated even when sea levels fell during the ice ages. This separation, dating from the late Miocene to the early Pliocene, turned Pemba into a distinct natural world, very different from its neighbor Unguja. On land, Pemba has no towering mountains. Its highest point reaches only about 120 meters, but the terrain rises and falls continuously through green hills, narrow valleys, and streams winding between farmland before flowing toward the coastal mangrove forests. Along the western coast in particular, the shoreline is carved into countless small bays and saltwater inlets that reach deep inland. Beneath the fertile soil lie ancient sedimentary layers, limestone and fossilized coral, where rainwater has silently carved cracks and caves over millions of years. But nature's greatest gift to Pemba is its tropical rainfall. From March to May, the main rainy season, known as Masika, arrives with torrential downpours And temperatures ranging from around 24 to 31 degrees Celsius. By June the southeast monsoon brings back the cooler Kipupwe season with temperatures of around 22 to 28 degrees Celsius. From October to December comes the shorter Vuli rainy season before the northeast Kaskazi winds bring the heat of the early months of the year, sometimes reaching 33 degrees Celsius. And so, two monsoon seasons and two rainy seasons take turns controlling the rhythm of life on the island. But this abundance conceals an almost unbelievable paradox. Pemba receives nearly 2,000 millimeters of rain every year, yet in some villages, safe drinking water is difficult to find. Because the water supply system remains incomplete, some families must rely on wells, ponds, and natural water sources that are vulnerable to contamination, increasing the risk of intestinal diseases and schistosomiasis. The situation became so serious that in March 2025, a clean water supply project supported by Chinese experts was handed over in Chake Chake district. aiming to improve access to household water and reduce the risk of schistosomiasis transmission. And clean water is not the only challenge. Heavy rain also turns dirt roads into muddy tracks, making it harder to transport agricultural produce. Offshore monsoon winds and powerful waves can force small wooden boats to remain in port, while farmers must carefully time their planting around the rains. On Pemba, even an ordinary working day must follow the will of the weather and the tides. Meanwhile, the climate and fertile soil have covered Pemba in an almost endless blanket of green, earning it the nickname Green Island. And hidden beneath that green canopy are countless creatures that have found refuge through millions of years of isolation. But before we enter this wild world, tell us where you're watching this documentary from and what the weather is like there. Share your answer in the comments below. We'd love to know which corners of the world Pemba's story has reached and touched the hearts of viewers. Covering approximately 20 square kilometers, the Ngezi Vumawimbi Reserve is the largest remaining area of natural forest on Pemba and has been protected since 1959. During a survey in 2024, scientists recorded at least 350 plant species, around one-fifth of which had never previously been documented on Pemba. Among the most striking are Incia bijuga trees, which can grow up to 25 meters tall, forming dense layers of forest canopy. Growing among them is the endemic palm Chrysolidocarpus pembanus, along with many rare and threatened plant species. Hidden beneath the leaves, tiny blue duikers quietly forage through the dense vegetation. Deeper in the forest, endangered Phrynobatrachus pachyhamus frogs find shelter in the damp environment. As darkness falls, the calls of the Pemba Scops Owl echo from the shadowy treetops. By day, Pemba Sunbirds dart among the flowers in search of nectar. Along the branches, flocks of Pemba White-eyes move constantly through the foliage. Meanwhile, the Pemba green pigeon stands out with its green plumage blending into the colors of the ancient forest. All four are endemic bird species, found naturally nowhere else on Earth. But perhaps the most impressive of all is the giant fruit bat, known as the Pemba flying fox, often seen hanging in colonies from the branches of tall trees. These bats occur naturally only on this island, and their numbers once declined so severely that they faced the threat of disappearing in the 1990s. But thanks to community conservation campaigns, their population has made a remarkable recovery, reaching more than 25,000 individuals. And on the forest floor lives the coconut crab, the world's largest land-dwelling crustacean. With powerful claws capable of crushing the hard shells of many fruits, these crabs slowly crawl through the forests and along the coastal ground. But Pemba's wild world does not end at the forest's edge. Farther offshore, the sea changes from turquoise to deep blue. Beneath the surface lie vibrant coral reefs, where schools of tropical fish weave between colorful coral formations. In other waters, sea turtles glide slowly over seagrass meadows. Among rocky crevices on the ocean floor, octopuses hide as they wait for prey. From ancient forests on land to coral gardens beneath the ocean, nature seems to have given Pemba an entire treasure trove. And these very gifts gradually transformed the island into an important link in the Indian Ocean Trading Network, opening a chapter of history marked by both prosperity and upheaval. Evidence of human settlement on Pemba may date back more than 20,000 years, but it was not until around the 7th century that the island entered a period of remarkable prosperity. Thanks to its position along the Indian Ocean trade routes, Pemba became a stopping point for Arab, Persian, and Indian merchants. Coastal fishing villages gradually developed into bustling trading ports, where agricultural products and goods from East Africa were exchanged for commodities from distant lands. Razmakumbu, the remains of coral stone buildings and ancient mosques, still stand as evidence of the prosperous era of Swahili civilization. Islam also arrived along these maritime routes, gradually shaping the beliefs and daily lives of the islanders. But this wealth also made Pemba a target in struggles for power. By the 19th century, the Omanis, having wrested control from the Portuguese, transformed Pemba's economic destiny through one tiny spice – cloves. At the time, plantation owners forced thousands of enslaved people to clear land, plant clove trees, and harvest the spice to profit from the spice trade. Slavery was then gradually abolished, and Zanzibar became a British protectorate in 1890. During the Revolution of 1964, the monarchy was overthrown, and many large plantations were confiscated by the government. Land was placed under state control, and some of it was later divided into plots of around three acres for families without farmland. They grew cloves alongside coconuts, mangoes, jackfruit, cassava, and various other crops. Over generations, this agroforestry system helped create Pemba's distinctive green landscape, And now covers approximately 44.1% of the island's area. Commercial seaweed farming emerged in Zanzibar in the late 1980s, then expanded rapidly to Pemba during the 1990s. What was remarkable was that this new livelihood created opportunities for women who did not even know how to swim. Thanks to the broad tidal flats and shallow waters, all they had to do was wait for low tide, walk hundreds of meters out into the sea, stretch out ropes, tie seaweed seedlings to them, and wait for harvest time. After about four to six weeks, the seaweed was brought ashore, dried, and sold to traders. Without needing large boats or major investments, many women gained an independent source of income to support their families. Seaweed gradually became an important export commodity, with Pemba at times contributing the majority of the entire archipelago's production. But now, as the climate begins to change, the very resources that have sustained Pemba for generations are facing an unprecedented challenge. In traditional Wapemba society, women were primarily responsible for household work, raising children, and tending spice gardens, while men handled most offshore fishing. In the past, as fish stocks declined and seaweed farming expanded, many women began stepping beyond these familiar roles to earn their own income from the ocean. At first, both men and women participated in seaweed farming. But because the seaweed required weeks of care before it could be harvested, many men gradually abandoned the work while women persevered. And now, climate change is confronting them with an even greater challenge. Offshore, increasingly warm seawater is causing once-thriving seaweed farms to develop diseases, turn white, and slowly die. In just four years, from 2016 to 2020, average seaweed production among surveyed households in Mishawaini fell by nearly half. On land, unpredictable rainfall and droughts are weakening clove trees, allowing pests and diseases to spread and threatening farming families' harvests. Forests are also gradually shrinking because of demand for timber, charcoal production, and expanding farmland. Meanwhile at sea, overfishing is degrading coral reefs and leaving fish stocks increasingly depleted. Faced with these conditions, the people of Pemba have been forced to find new ways to make a living and preserve their livelihoods. To save seaweed farms that are slowly dying in the warm coastal waters, they must move them into water three to five meters deep at high tide. This is a challenge unlike anything they have faced before. For decades, these women were accustomed only to walking across shallow tidal flats. They had never needed to learn how to swim, much less operate boats or work in deep water. The difficulties also stem from the modest dress standards of their Muslim communities, along with family responsibilities that make it difficult for many women to find time for training. To overcome these barriers, support organizations have had to find ways to gain community acceptance, arrange suitable training sessions, and provide full coverage swimwear so that women can learn new skills without abandoning their faith. But overcoming social expectations and fear is only the beginning. In 2023, in the village of Tumbe, a female seaweed farmer raised a troubling question. how can someone learn to swim in just three days she explained that a girl in her community had needed training sessions spread over a total of two to three months before she truly learned the skill that is why training cannot stop at basic swimming techniques the women must also become familiar with safety equipment self-rescue skills and how to tend seaweed farms from boats Also in 2023, eight motorized fiberglass boats and swimming support equipment were handed over to seaweed farming groups on Pemba, giving 153 people, including 118 women, the opportunity to access deeper waters, and these efforts go far beyond learning how to swim. Instead of simply harvesting, drying and selling raw seaweed at low prices, some women's groups are also learning to process it into soap, body oils and personal care products to increase their income. Many families are also growing cassava and other crops, raising livestock or experimenting with sea cucumber and mangrove crab farming so they no longer have to stake their entire future on a single seaweed harvest. Meanwhile, some fishing communities have agreed to restrict fishing in certain marine areas, giving fish populations time to grow and coral reefs a chance to recover. Even the island's untouched forests and beaches are opening up employment opportunities through ecotourism, helping some residents earn additional income without continuing to exhaust natural resources. Although these changes cannot eliminate every hardship, they have begun to kindle hope for a brighter future for Pemba. And after all these efforts to earn a living, what does everyday life look like for the island's residents? That's what we'll explore next. Today, Pemba is home to more than 500,000 people. Living in small towns and hundreds of villages nestled among lush tropical gardens, life here still follows the slow rhythm of an agricultural community deeply rooted in Islamic traditions. Before the sun has even risen above the Indian Ocean, the call to prayer echoes from the mosques, awakening villages still shrouded in the early morning mist. After the first prayers of the day, men board their boats and head out to sea or follow dirt roads to tend their crops. In small kitchens, women light fires to prepare breakfast, then follow the tides to harvest seaweed on the tidal flats or take agricultural produce to market. Behind the coconut groves stand traditional houses built with wooden frames, mud plastered walls, coral stone, and roofs thatched with coconut leaves. These homes, made from locally available materials, are both inexpensive and cool, which is why they remain common in rural areas. As sunlight begins to spread across the roads, the markets of Chakechake, Huete, and Mukoani also come to life. Stalls are piled high with cassava, bananas, mangoes, coconuts, and freshly harvested vegetables and fruits brought down from the gardens. Meanwhile, in the fishing village of Tumbe, the atmosphere grows lively as boats return carrying fresh fish, their silver scales still glistening in the sunlight. Traders quickly buy the catches and transport them along narrow roads to villages deep in the island's interior. The ocean and the gardens are also where the flavors of every Pemba meal begin. A typical family meal often includes boiled cassava, rice, bananas or sweet potatoes served with vegetables, beans and seafood. Fish brought in fresh from the harbor may be grilled over glowing charcoal, fried until crispy, or simmered in rich coconut milk. But what makes Pemba's cuisine so appealing is the fragrance of the spices that once made the island famous. Cloves, cinnamon, turmeric, Pepper and cardamom blend together in steaming pots of curry. One particularly distinctive dish is octopus stewed in coconut milk, where the natural sweetness of the seafood combines with the richness of coconut and the warm aroma of spices. During family gatherings, kitchens fill with the fragrance of pilau, a rice dish cooked with cloves, cinnamon, and cardamom, carrying the influence of merchant ships that once connected East Africa with Arabia and India. And on major holidays, people may spend hours beside the fire, stirring thick pots of halwa. A sweet, chewy confection, fragrant with spices, often served to guests as a warm gesture of welcome. But not every family on this lush green island enjoys a comfortable life. More than one-third of Pemba's population has been recorded as living in multidimensional poverty. In some villages, far from major towns, access to clean water, education and health care remains inadequate. Although electricity from the mainland has reached Pemba through an undersea cable since 2010, completing roads and essential services still presents many obstacles. So behind the endless green forests and the peaceful appearance of fishing villages are families who must carefully stretch every bit of their income, depend on each harvest, and save whatever they can for their children's future. Yet amid these hardships, the people continue to preserve an extraordinary cultural world, where Islamic faith, Swahili customs, and mysterious legends have coexisted for hundreds of years. The cultural influences that have blended over centuries are visible not only in ancient mosques and the ruins of the trading port of Ras Mekumbu, but also in everyday speech and the way people treat one another. When meeting an elder, younger people often greet them respectfully with Shikamu, receiving the reply, Marahaba. And when they meet someone they know, they rarely rush past without stopping to ask about their health, family and work. Even with strangers, the invitation Karibu, meaning welcome, reflects the hospitality that is so characteristic of Swahili culture. During these conversations, you may also hear Kipemba, Pemba's distinct Swahili dialect, which still preserves many old words and expressions, especially in villages along the eastern and northeastern parts of the island. But the people of Pemba do not communicate their thoughts through words alone. Along village roads, women often wear brightly colored Kanga fabrics printed with patterns and Swahili proverbs. Some carry blessings for a new bride, others express love or gratitude, while some convey a subtle reproach that the wearer does not wish to speak aloud. Alongside these everyday customs, Pemba is also famous throughout East Africa for a mysterious world of spiritual beliefs. This is Uchawi, associated with beliefs in witchcraft, supernatural powers, and the invisible world. When faced with illness, misfortune, or events that are difficult to explain, some residents still turn to traditional healers, known as Waganga, for help. Some use roots, medicinal leaves, and herbs whose knowledge has been passed down through generations. Others perform prayers or healing rituals with spiritual significance. But Pemba also preserves a distinctive tradition rarely found elsewhere, traditional bullfighting. Amid the beating of drums and thunderous cheers, a bull is brought into an arena. Participants take turns approaching and provoking the animal, then quickly dodging as it suddenly charges toward them. Unlike Spanish bullfighting, this tradition is not intended to kill the bull. Instead, it gives young men an opportunity to demonstrate their courage and agility before the community. To this day, the origins of this custom remain debated. One theory suggests that it was influenced by the Portuguese presence in East Africa, while another holds that it originated as a rain-making ritual among indigenous African communities, expressing their hopes for a successful harvest. Beyond these traditions, Pemba's most important celebrations remain closely tied to Islam, particularly the fasting month of Ramadan, Eid al-Fitr, Eid al-Adha, and Maulid, which commemorates the birth of the Prophet Muhammad. Looking back at Pemba's journey, it is difficult not to admire the resilience of this island. Especially its women, who, as marine resources declined, courageously overcame long-standing gender expectations and ventured into the ocean not only to support their families, but also to claim their own independence, voice, and place in society. Although the challenges ahead remain enormous, Pemba is pursuing some promising ideas. In Michiwani, seaweed farmers once had to dry their harvests directly on the ground, only for sudden rain and sand to cause traders to reject entire batches. Today, solar-powered drying facilities are helping them dry seaweed faster and more hygienically, reducing losses. By March 2026, two drying systems and new storage facilities had provided a combined capacity of 16 metric tons, benefiting farmers, most of whom are women. and an even bolder idea is being developed insurance specifically designed for seaweed farming if successfully implemented farmers whose seaweed crops are destroyed by marine heat waves or extreme weather could receive financial assistance instead of bearing the entire loss themselves At the Pemba Conservation Area, the Pemba Coral Reef Safari Snorkeling Tourism Model, which allocates one-third of ticket revenue to conservation efforts in local communities, is gradually being finalized. Another project aims to reduce pressure on wild marine resources through sea cucumber farming. By 2025, pilot farms had benefited more than 90 households, while expansion plans aimed to reach around 4,000 households and help protect seagrass ecosystems. On land, volunteers from six villages joined forces to plant 300,000 mangrove seedlings in damaged forest areas. After more than two years, around 30% had survived, providing valuable lessons to help communities make future restoration efforts more effective. From an island that once depended on nature's generosity, Pemba is becoming a lesson in how people can find ways to survive amid climate change and the consequences of overexploitation. And what about you? Do you believe Pemba can continue developing its economy without sacrificing its natural environment? Share your thoughts in the comments below.