Aid Scam Called Small-scale Fishers to Adapt and Take Autonomy

by Putra Satria Timur, Muhammad Subhan Murid, Amrollah

For the fishers of Talawaan Bajo in North Sulawesi, the ocean holds both immense hope and deep bitterness. Often, challenges don’t lie on rough seas or typhoons, but by fraudulent promises made in the name of “government aid.”

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The waters off Talawaan Bajo in North Sulawesi reflect the moonlight and the stillness of night. Waves gently rock a line of small fibreglass boats, seven to nine metres in length. From this village, yellowfin tuna hunters set out daily, often navigating the open sea all the way to Morotai in North Maluku. They fish with sheer grit and the conviction that the tough ocean will still provide a living.

Yet, beneath this resilience lies a painful narrative of false hope, delivered through the guise of “official aid.” Fake hopes commonly haunt over the fishers’ village by nights

Scams in Guise of Official Aid

Musriza Paputungan, the village secretary of Talawaan Bajo, vividly recalls the start of the deception. Several strangers arrived, bringing the ostensibly good news of an outboard engine grant from the central government. They were convincing—speaking with confidence, displaying seemingly real photos of past aid handovers, and name-dropping officials to suggest strong connections.

Fishers were instructed to form associations, complete multiple forms, and pay an “operational fee” around USD 20 per person. While seemingly small, for a small-scale fisher, that amount represents fuel for several days at sea.

Oddly, they were told to keep the matter secret from the village government to ensure the “process was quick and hassle-free.” Within weeks, the money vanished. The promised engines never materialized.

A total of 30 fishers fell victim, leading to collective losses of around USD 500. Many were forced to take on debt from neighbours or sell their existing fishing gear.

“The most painful part isn’t just the money lost,” Musriza stated. “The community’s trust is gone. Now, when any external party arrives with a programme, they are immediately suspicious.”

The Collective Wound of Small-Scale Fishers

Talawaan Bajo fishers in North Sulawesi when discussing the issue with an MDPI’s staff (left).

The story of Talawaan Bajo is not isolated; this pattern of exploitation is replicated across Indonesia’s vast coastline.

About 90% of Indonesia’s fishers are small-scale. They work with minimal capital, lacking digital access, and are often reliant on word-of-mouth information. This vulnerability makes them easy targets for anyone peddling the promise of “aid.”

The core issue is not just the fraudulent schemes, but a systemic failure that leaves these fishers permanently exposed. They suffer from low financial literacy, minimal digital access, and a lack of genuinely supportive assistance.

When opportunists offer quick and instant relief, it is difficult to blame vulnerable communities for clutching at hope.

A Call for Role Change: From Relief Seekers to Self-Reliant Community

A traditional tuna fisher with his catch in Talawaan Bajo Village, North Sulawesi.

To break the cycle of fraud, the approach must fundamentally change. Fishers need to be taught how to build and equip themselves, rather than how to solicit external handouts.

The most tangible step is strengthening fisher groups—not as a formality to secure aid, but as collective economic empowerment centres. By grouping together, fishers can jointly purchase better gear, establish collective business, or even open their own logistic outlets.

Groups in other regions have successfully processed their catches into value-added products like fish crackers, floss, or chips. This not only increases the sale price but also opens new avenues for local employment.

This model transcends mere economics. It is about returning autonomy and fostering fishers’ confidence. Communities can determine their own livelihood without dependence on external, often dubious, promises.

Physical aid, when provided, should serve as an acknowledgement of existing hard work and solidarity. It was never meant to becoming an addictive dependency.

A Quest for On-the-Field Regulatory Justice

However, self-reliance cannot flourish in a vacuum. It requires supportive policies grounded in the realities of small-scale fishing.

Amidst the twin pressures of the climate crisis and exploitation by large industrial vessels, traditional fishers require genuine protection. They need streamlined fishing permits, designated traditional fishing zones, and systemic access to subsidized fuel. 

Policy formulation can no longer be done from behind a desk; fishers must be co-managers of the discussion. Co-management forums like the Fisheries Co-Management Committee can serve as crucial platforms for their direct involvement in decision-making. Without their voices embedded in policy, regulations will always feel distant—even when ostensibly created for their benefit.

Small-scale fishers may appear fragile on the surface, but they are the motor of the coastal economy. Hence, acting as frontline defenders of Indonesia’s seafood source. They are not just vulnerable aid recipients, but food security defenders with autonomy.

The paradigm must shift: fishers need not charity. They require knowledge, market fairness, and the space to be self-sufficient. As the old adage states: Self-reliance is the true anchor that holds the ship against the storm.”

For Indonesian fishers, that anchor is not made of iron, but of a collective awareness. This highlights that the sea is not just a place to catch fish, but also a place to build self-dignity.