On the sun-drenched beaches of Angola and the bustling shores of western India, two communities separated by continents are united by a singular mission: saving the world’s endangered sea turtles. From former hunters turned protectors in Africa to eco-tourism pioneers in Asia, grassroots efforts are breathing new life into ancient reptiles teetering on the edge of extinction.
In Angola, the transformation is as dramatic as it is hopeful. Once, Joaquim Avelino Fragoso roamed the Longa estuary in search of sea turtles—not to marvel at their grace, but to hunt them for meat. Now, the 45-year-old father of seven patrols the same coastline with a very different purpose. “I like to watch the turtles when they come out to lay their eggs on land, and then go back into the sea,” Fragoso told Reuters in the lush village of Hojiua, a landscape of mangroves, lagoons, and sandy stretches. “I no longer have that urge to hunt them.”
Fragoso’s story is emblematic of a broader shift along Angola’s 1,600-kilometer coastline. According to Reuters, all five species of eastern Atlantic sea turtle—each listed as vulnerable to critically endangered on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List—find refuge in Angolan waters. The olive ridley and the leatherback, famous for their epic nesting journeys and jellyfish feasts, are among those that return to Longa’s caramel-colored beaches to lay their eggs.
This conservation renaissance is no accident. It’s the result of the Kitabanga Project, a sweeping initiative that covers around 25,000 turtle nests and trains roughly 70 villagers in the art and science of protecting these ancient mariners. Funded by private sector partners and implemented by the Kissama Foundation in collaboration with Angola’s oldest university, Universidade Agostinho Neto, the project is a model of community-driven conservation. “We have to conserve them so that there will be more turtles tomorrow,” Fragoso said, his home lying some 220 kilometers south of Luanda, Angola’s bustling capital.
Yet, the path to protection is not without its hurdles. Debora Carvalho, regional coordinator of the Kitabanga Project in Cuanza Sul, knows that changing hearts and minds requires more than just education—it demands addressing the poverty that often drives turtle hunting. “The normal thing is that people say, no, we don’t care, ...and then we need to talk, teach and show how this can be a very good thing for them,” Carvalho explained. For Fragoso and his neighbors, conservation now offers both a livelihood and a sense of pride. Earning money from his work as a guardian of the turtles, Fragoso has become a symbol of hope for both his community and the creatures he once hunted.
Half a world away in Velas, a seaside village on India’s western coast, the olive ridley turtle is the star of a different kind of transformation. Every April, the Velas Turtle Festival draws crowds of tourists and locals alike, all eager to witness the spectacle of hatchlings—tiny, palm-sized, and flailing—making their perilous dash to the sea. According to NPR, the festival is part celebration, part conservation effort. Volunteers collect eggs from turtle nests, incubate them in protected hatcheries to shield them from predators like dogs and gulls, and then release the hatchlings under careful supervision. The odds are daunting: only one out of every 1,000 olive ridley turtles is likely to reach maturity, a stark reminder of the fragility of their existence.
The olive ridley’s journey has been fraught with peril. For decades, these turtles were suffocated in fishing nets, slaughtered for meat and leather, and their eggs poached from the sands. “The threats to olive ridleys were significant, and if they had been allowed to continue unabated, we may have seen the crashes that we were predicting,” said Kartik Shanker, a leading Indian sea turtle expert, in conversation with NPR. But thanks to a patchwork of protections—including seasonal fishing bans, coastal zoning, and festivals like Velas—the tide is turning. Shanker noted that during the past winter’s nesting season, conservationists counted “about a million nests, which is crazy high,” a dramatic rebound from the mere 100,000 nests documented twenty years ago.
Eco-tourism has become a vital part of the equation. The Velas Turtle Festival, founded about a decade ago by Mohan Upadhye, has not only helped safeguard nesting sites but also provided economic incentives for local villagers. Upadhye, who sports a turtle tattoo emblazoned with “save me,” convinced the village council to ban seaside construction and set up hatcheries. “It’s very nice to see baby turtles taking their first step into their home,” festival visitor Anuja Bhingare told NPR. Yet, the influx of tourists brings its own challenges: trash, pollution, and the risk of disrupting the delicate nesting environment. Festival manager Virendra Ramesh Patel pays villagers about $3 per week to keep the beach clean—a small but crucial investment in the turtles’ future.
Despite these successes, danger still lurks. In January 2025, hundreds of dead turtles washed up near Chennai, victims of suffocation in illegal fishing nets. And as Shanker warns, the apparent recovery of olive ridleys could tempt authorities to relax protections, inviting new threats from coastal development and industrial interests. “I can see a Port Development Authority saying, why shouldn’t I build a port here? You said that the ridleys were endangered, but apparently they’re not,” Shanker cautioned. The battle for the turtles’ survival is far from over.
The story of India’s sea turtle conservation owes much to the tireless work of Satish Bhaskar, a man who walked some 2,500 miles along the country’s coastlines to study and document these creatures. His legacy is celebrated in the 2025 documentary Turtle Walker, which highlights the ripple effect of one person’s dedication. As Upadhye reflected, “This is the time that we have to make future generations aware. We have to fight.”
Back in Angola, the message is much the same. The Kitabanga Project’s blend of science, community engagement, and economic opportunity is slowly winning over villagers who once saw turtles as little more than a meal. With every nest protected and every hatchling shepherded to the sea, hope grows for a future where sea turtles can thrive.
Across oceans and cultures, the fight to save sea turtles is a testament to the power of local action and global solidarity. Whether patrolling the mangroves of Angola or cheering on hatchlings in India, ordinary people are proving that, with the right support and a dash of determination, even the most endangered of species can be given a fighting chance.
