Two autumns ago, I stumbled on an abundance of fingerlings at a rivulet close to my half-a-hectare garden on the outskirts Ramotswa. I harvested about four dozens of them and transported them to my residence. I had not gleaned any literature on fish farming but took the chance anyway. The fingerlings were transported from the water body in two buckets and placed in containment. This was after the heavens had let unusually heavy down pours which caused Ngotwane River to burst at the seams. I completely lost my crop yield from the floods.
The excitement of seeing baby fish swim freely in the Sesezuru manufactured metallic bath got the better part of me. “I might be a future fish monger,” I told myself oblivious to the challenges that lied ahead.
There's more to this story
But to keep reading, we need you to subscribe.
Investigative journalism is an indispensable part of a healthy society, but it's also expensive to produce. We are reliant on subscriptions to fund our work, and while you can enjoy most of our stories for free, a small number of premium features are reserved for subscribers.
You can subscribe for one week, a month or a full year - the choice is yours.
Save 77% on an annual subscription. Click here to find out how.
Existing subscribers can log in to keep reading here.
