Forage fish are small, low-trophic-level species that support aquatic food webs and provide livelihoods, protein and income in communities around the world. In the Tonlé Sap basin, fishers catch them for immediate consumption and for processing into fermented paste, dried products and other foods. Interviewees described eating small fish in soups, stir-fries and pancakes, and making fish paste, or prahok, an important condiment in Khmer cuisine. Dried or fermented fish remains particularly valuable in rural households where electricity and refrigeration are limited. These products also carry cultural significance, although city consumers tend to buy them mainly for special occasions rather than as everyday food. For rural households, dried fish products can provide protein when fresh fish or meat is unaffordable.

The field study took place over two weeks in October 2025 in several Tonlé Sap villages known for dried-fish practices, with additional interviews at landing sites and with small and industrial-scale farmers in the Tonlé Sap area and around Phnom Penh. It drew on prior work conducted from November 2022, including a doctoral study that included 10 months in the region, research on processors in 2023 and 2024, and long-term work on Cambodian fishing villages. Because the 2025 campaign was brief and involved 22 participants, it identified value-chain relationships and lived experiences rather than measuring the total volume of fish diverted to aquaculture. The research covered artisanal fishers, fish processors and farmers involved in different parts of the value chain, but the interviewees were not all members of those three groups. No dataset was generated or analysed for the current study.

Women who process forage fish occupy a central but increasingly vulnerable position in the food chain. In a first step known as “half processing,” workers remove bones, guts and heads, then lightly salt the remaining fish meat for later fermentation into paste. The study reported an average of 12 to 13 kilograms processed by one woman in a half-day. The work usually begins as soon as fish are landed because cold storage is scarce. Processors also need to select suitable fish because some species are preferred for fish paste, including moonlight gourami. The discarded heads, bones and guts are not necessarily waste: they can be sold to fish farmers as feed. This division turns a single catch into competing outcomes, with edible meat supporting a labor-intensive food product and the remainder entering the feed chain. When women no longer process fish, they are largely excluded from the seafood supply chain because preparing food for people is more labor-intensive than supplying fish directly to farms.

Fish paste can command a much higher price than the original catch, but that market value does not necessarily reach the households performing the most demanding work. Small, mixed fish were reportedly sold for 37 to 50 US cents per kilogram. After processing, 50 kilograms of fish could yield 25 kilograms of meat and 25 kilograms of trimmings in the study’s worked example. The meat was sold for 1.25 dollars per kilogram, while trimmings fetched 12 cents. Fish paste made from the meat later sold for 6.25 dollars per kilogram at a town market. The study distinguished the returns received by different actors: middle people who moved fish made a similar amount per kilogram to female casual workers preparing half-processed fish, but transport work was less physically intense, took less time and operated at much greater volume. Casual processors were paid 12 cents per kilogram, whereas the 10-cent figure concerned traders’ margins. Some women were paid in trimmings, which interviewees described as especially poorly paid because processing yields fewer kilograms of trimmings than the weight of the original catch.

Aquaculture began expanding in the study area during roughly the preceding decade, giving some fishing households another source of income. Farmers said fresh forage fish were cheaper than pellets or formulated aquafeed, particularly when they lived close to fishing grounds, and some believed that snakehead fed with fresh fish tasted better and commanded a higher price. Interviews indicated that small farmers could use anywhere from several hundred kilograms to more than 1,000 kilograms of forage fish or trimmings per day, depending on farm size and availability. One farmer estimated needing 500 to 600 kilograms of small fish each day for farmed fish. Farmers also combined fish with rice bran, pellets and homemade ingredients, while some operations farther from the lake used a larger share of aquafeed because transport made fresh forage fish more expensive. Fish farming could provide an additional income stream, but farmers also described risks when they could not feed their fish regularly and when the cost of forage fish rose.

The conversion of wild forage fish into high-value farmed fish can be inefficient. The study cited reports indicating that more than one kilogram of wild fish may be required to produce one kilogram of farmed fish, and estimates above four kilograms for some snakehead operations. The authors calculated that 500 kilograms of forage fish could feed 2,000 people for a day at a quarter kilogram per person, using a reported Cambodian average consumption of 45 kilograms of fish per year. This was explicitly presented as a rough comparison, not a measured nutritional outcome. Cambodia banned snakehead farming from 2004 to 2016 in response to concerns about the volume of forage fish used as feed and lifted the ban after a pellet alternative was developed, yet the researchers did not observe snakehead-specific pellets being sold or used in the farms they visited. They noted that farmers still used fresh fish, trimmings or mixed feeds, and that affordability and taste preferences shaped these choices.

Scarcity added pressure to all three groups. Snakehead farmers interviewed for the study reported paying 15 US cents per kilogram for forage fish in 2015, 50 cents in 2024 and 62 cents in 2025, attributing the increase partly to reduced supply. Fishers also described a structural problem: catching costs more while the market price of forage fish remains low. Processors need cheap, stable inputs because their labor costs are relatively steady and retail prices for fish products do not respond immediately to fluctuations in raw-fish prices. Fishers would benefit from higher prices, whereas small farmers can often buy in bulk and obtain credit, giving them more resilience. The study also cited an analysis of 17 years of catches for 110 species that reported a decline exceeding 85 percent in Tonlé Sap fish populations, alongside hydrological alteration from dams, blocked migration routes, sand mining and other environmental pressures. The authors said the causes of scarcity are complex and that diversion to feed is only one of several contributing pressures.

Cambodian policy pulls in several directions. The country’s 2016–2030 Aquaculture Strategy promotes inland freshwater farming and describes low-value fish as a potentially useful feed resource for higher-value species, while also supporting the development of pellets and aquafeed. Fisheries enforcement has targeted illegal gear and seasonal closures, including a 2025 campaign that confiscated large quantities of nets, traps and electric fishing equipment. At the same time, the government has pursued export markets for fish paste and farmed fish, including a quality-seal scheme for fish paste and expanding catfish production for China. The researchers noted that none of the women they interviewed knew about the fish-paste certification programme. They did not interview government officials, so their interpretation of enforcement intentions remained provisional rather than a direct assessment of policy implementation. These policy directions can support different groups while imposing costs on others, including fishers and processors who depend on access to small fish.

The findings point to distributional justice as a lens for evaluating policies that connect capture fisheries, aquaculture and trade. The central question is not simply whether aquaculture should expand, but who receives the benefits and who bears the costs when forage fish move between food and feed chains. A shift toward feed can provide farmers with inputs, raise demand for catches and create income, yet it may reduce access to inexpensive fish for poorer consumers and diminish demand for the labor of women processors. The evidence does not establish that aquaculture caused the region’s broader fishery decline, and the authors did not quantify how much Tonlé Sap forage fish enters feed markets. Nevertheless, their qualitative study shows how even a nascent aquaculture sector can generate a distributional conflict: some households gain new opportunities, while others lose access to a food source and a traditional source of paid work. The authors argue that policy should examine these trade-offs explicitly, including the effects of certification, gear rules, seasonal closures and aquaculture support on marginalized groups.

Subject of Research: Distributional justice in Cambodia’s freshwater forage fisheries

Article Title: Blue injustice: competing claims for freshwater forage fisheries

Article References: Marschke, M., Cranmer, C., Kadfak, A., Yai, P., & Vandergeest, P. (2026). Blue injustice: competing claims for freshwater forage fisheries. Regional Environmental Change, 26(4), 219. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10113-026-02706-8

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: 10.1007/s10113-026-02706-8

Keywords: Tonlé Sap fisheries, forage fish, freshwater aquaculture, food justice, blue justice, Cambodia, fish processing, food security, livelihoods, small-scale farming, Blue, injustice

Smith’s central claim is that the NFA has too often been treated as a footnote to a better-known story. The organization was, in effect, a Black counterpoint to the Future Farmers of America at a time when FFA chapters throughout the South were segregated. Because of that structural relationship, historians have tended to view the NFA only through its connection to the FFA, casting it in a supporting role rather than as a movement with its own origins, logic, and achievements. Smith contends that this framing distorts the historical record. The history of Black farming in America has been told predominantly as a narrative of oppression, a story of slavery, sharecropping, and dispossession. As Smith writes in the book, decades of scholarship on Black people’s historical relationship to agriculture have predominantly framed agriculture as a domain of exploitation, subjugation, and racial exclusion. Those framings are accurate as far as they go, but they are incomplete.

What the NFA story adds, according to Smith, is a dimension of empowerment and agency. The organization mobilized Black youth to consider careers in agriculture at a moment when such careers were rarely presented as aspirational for Black children. It built relationships and social networks through which entire communities celebrated farming rather than associating it only with hardship. I want people to know it existed, Smith said, noting how powerful it was that these Black boys and their adult mentors were trying to change the face of agriculture and were doing it very well. The point is not to minimize the barriers that Black farmers faced, which were severe and well documented, but to insist that Black rural communities were also sites of ambition, expertise, and institution-building.

Although the NFA became a national organization in 1935, Smith traces its roots back roughly half a century earlier, to what he calls the Black Youth Farm Movement. This movement encompassed the establishment of the 1890 land-grant Historically Black Colleges and Universities in the South, the Negro 4-H, and eventually the NFA itself. Together, these institutions embedded farming in Black education and community life in a systematic way. The 1890 land-grant universities, created as the Black counterparts to the white land-grant institutions funded under the Morrill Act, provided higher education in agriculture and the mechanical arts at a time when Southern Black students were barred from most white institutions. The Negro 4-H extended agricultural learning to younger children, and the NFA carried that work into high schools, creating a pipeline that connected classroom instruction, extracurricular activity, and eventual careers in farming and related fields.

The NFA was not simply a school club; it was woven into the fabric of rural communities. Chapters organized events that brought whole towns together to celebrate the accomplishments of participating boys. Livestock shows displayed the animals that members had raised and groomed, while father-son banquets featured menus drawn from food the boys had produced themselves, turning agricultural education into a shared family and community experience. Members competed in local, regional, state, and national competitions, giving rural Black youth arenas in which their skills could be formally recognized. Black farmers also benefited directly, learning the latest farming methods through collaborations between NFA chapters and the 1890 land-grant HBCUs. In this way, the organization functioned as a conduit for agricultural science, moving new techniques from research institutions into the fields of small Black-owned farms across the South.

Smith’s book documents the reach of the organization through vivid episodes. At a national NFA convention in New Jersey, members participated in the 1939 New York World’s Fair, presenting exhibits, performing with the NFA band, and taking part in a radio show, all while learning about agriculture on a global scale. For young men from isolated rural communities, the fair represented an encounter with international ideas about food and farming, delivered on one of the largest public stages of the era. Smith also recounts the history of an NFA summer camp in North Carolina, later named in honor of Sidney B. Simmons, a University of Illinois alumnus and national NFA leader. The camp combined recreation with leadership development, using outdoor activities to strengthen the social skills and confidence of the campers. These programs show that the NFA understood something that modern youth development research has repeatedly confirmed: leadership grows through practice, mentorship, and community recognition, not through instruction alone.

The classroom dimension of the story is equally important. Smith examines agricultural education at the high school level through the eyes of Lorenza Crosby, an agriculture teacher, and the NFA chapter at Randolph High School in La Grange, Texas. Black agriculture teachers, Smith argues, built a class of world leaders by teaching boys that they could use what they learned about farming to shape their communities and the nation. That conviction, he writes, was the essence of the land-grant mission: knowledge generated and transmitted through public institutions should return public benefit. In segregated Texas, a well-taught agriculture classroom became a site of civic formation as much as vocational training, and teachers like Crosby acted as both instructors and community leaders.

The end of the NFA came in 1965, when the organization was absorbed by the FFA, and Smith’s account of that merger is pointed. Black agricultural leaders had long been asking for representation within the agriculture education branch of the U.S. Department of Education. Instead of gaining a seat at the table on equal terms, they saw the federal agency’s powerful leadership use the antidiscrimination language of the Civil Rights Act to force a merger that Smith describes as really a hostile takeover. Desegregation, in this instance, did not preserve the institutions that Black communities had built; it dissolved them. The consequences were measurable. The number of Black boys participating in the FFA after the merger was dramatically lower than the number who had been part of the NFA, a decline that suggests how much organizational infrastructure, mentorship, and community support was lost when the NFA disappeared as an independent body.

Yet the story did not end in 1965. In 1994, Corey Flournoy, another University of Illinois alumnus, became the first Black president of the national FFA organization, and Smith sees that milestone as part of the continuing NFA story, a delayed fruit of the pathways the earlier organization had opened. Today, the challenges Smith documents remain stark: a steady decline in the number of Black farmers, driven partly by lack of access to credit, underfunding of agriculture programs at HBCUs, the stigmas attached to Black participation in agriculture, and a lack of Black representation in academic programs. At the same time, he observes a burgeoning interest among young Black people in resurrecting their historical relationship to agriculture through urban farming programs, food justice initiatives, and organizations such as Minorities in Agriculture, Natural Resources and Related Sciences and the National Black Food and Justice Alliance. Smith argues that the NFA should serve as a national historical model for maintaining the interest of Black youth in agriculture and exposing them to career opportunities. As he writes, the NFA offered Black farm boys a clear pathway to use agriculture as a site for Black self-determination, community uplift, economic vitality, educational achievement, and career training, and its untold story illuminates a pathway to understand the future of Black people’s connection to agriculture, creating what he calls a Black agricultural blueprint for the nation and the world.

Subject of Research: The history and legacy of the New Farmers of America and Black youth agricultural education

Article Title: Book tells the untold story of how New Farmers of America transformed rural Black life

Article References: Book tells the untold story of how New Farmers of America transformed rural Black life. (n.d.). Original publication

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: Not provided

Keywords: New Farmers of America, Black farming, agricultural education, Future Farmers of America, 1890 land-grant HBCUs, rural Black communities, Bobby J. Smith II, Black Youth Farm Movement, Negro 4-H, Civil Rights Act merger, food justice, Black agricultural legacy