DEL NAGI WAS born on the Nile 40 years ago. He comes from a long line of fishermen who traveled the vast channels of the river, living on the water as they ride the current in search of fishing hotspots. Today, Adel is an experienced fisherman himself, still living on the river and raising his family alongside those of his three younger brothers. A

There are 24 Nagis: four brothers, their wives and 16 children. The six boats they share between them are where all the action occurs. At roughly six meters long and two meters wide, a boat is not just for transportation and fishing, but also serves as a bedroom, kitchen, prayer space, laundry rack and fish shop, in case someone from the street wants to make a purchase.

Strewn around its hulls are the tools of daily life, some common, others more unique to the water-dwellers: a primus stove, candle lantern, enameled teapot, bowls, plates, cooking pots, tea glasses, a water jug, blankets and a large tarpaulin to cover the boat at night.

“This is very humble, but it’s ours,” said Nahmadu, 38, the second-eldest Nagi brother. “We throw the fishing nets into the water every night, and then four people sleep across the hull. It’s cramped, but it’s good in the winter time when it’s cold,” he offers with a thin smile.

Although a gregarious and friendly bunch when left to their own devices, the fishing families along Cairo’s shores tend to be suspicious of anyone they don’t know. The people we approached were generally hesitant to speak at first, afraid we were from the Shore Police, who stop fishing boats and put them out of business if they don’t have a license. After being rebuffed a handful of times, we decided to make the rounds with a friendly face, someone they knew and trusted. And since the families migrate up and down the river in search of fish and peace, we needed a boat ourselves. The solution: a felucca owner in Dokki who was on a first-name basis with everyone on the Nile.

The day we met the Nagis, their brightly colored boats were docked beside each other against the river bank in Zamalek. The women and men sat around sharpening the fishing hooks, organizing the lines and washing laundry while bantering back and forth. The toddlers ran around the muddy bank barefoot, playing; their chatter and laughter echoed across the calm river.

Ahmad Hosni Taking a break next to the nets

As we approached, the four brothers, wearing galabeyyas and ‘emmas, stood up smiling, and waving salaam. Their leathered, weather-beaten skin and calloused hands spoke volumes about their daily labor under the sun. The women, wearing brightly colored galabeyyas and veils, smiled and continued on with their chores.

Their clan, we are told, was originally from Munufiya in the Delta. Asked if the family has a house there, Nahmadu’s wife throws her head back with a cackle and quips, “Habibiti, there is no house! We’re on the water 365 days of the year!”

A typical day in the life of a fishing family begins by waking up before dawn and praying fajr at the boat’s stern. They then pick up their nets and scoop out the fish from the night before, proceeding to fold the nets back over the long bamboo sticks which hang above the sleeping quarters until their next use. Around nine o’clock in the morning, one or two people, usually the women, go into the city to take the fish to the supermarkets and buy supplies including bread, tea and soap.

Although they have loosely designated roles, the Nagi brothers say men and women are equal in the boat. While it’s the men who generally take care of the fishing, husband and wife swap off with the cleaning and preparing of fishing gear, cooking and looking after the children. They also take turns rowing the boat, which is done with two long pieces of plywood.

“It’s better for a fisherman to marry the daughter of another fisherman in order for her to be comfortable and familiar with this kind of lifestyle,” Adel says, explaining that women usually marry between age 18 and 19, while men tie the knot by age 24 or 25. Couples meet through families as everyone knows each other, and weddings take place in the family’s ancestral village, with preparations in the works months in advance.

Ahmad Hosni Daytime is reserved for repairing nets, selling the catch and buying supplies.

Adel described weddings as “big celebrations that last for two or three days” and one of the few times each year they will spend more than a few hours on solid ground. A source of entertainment and a time for people to come together, marriage celebrations often include not only the families of the bride and groom and the local villagers, but all the fishing families and farmers from the neighboring villages and towns.

“Everyone on the Nile is like one family, even though there are many,” he says, “so when there is a funeral or a wedding, everyone goes.”

Asked about childbirth, one of the men tells, “It’s her and her luck for the pregnancy. The women know what to do. Basically, the closest place — hospital or boat — is where she has the baby. Sometimes, a midwife is on the boat.”

Along with daily tasks and fishing skills, the Nagis consider formal education very important.

“Just because we work here does not mean we are uneducated,” said Nahmadu. “Some families have lawyers and doctors. My son went to university, but he hasn’t been able to find work. For this reason, most of us just learn how to read and write and then we work [as fishermen] because no one actually uses their diploma. We do have educated people, though.”

The close-knit fishing community has little trust in strangers. Ahmad Hosni

The expression “The Nile is the source of all life” is an axiomatic truth for the fishing families. They sleep on the Nile, eat from the Nile, bathe in the Nile and drink from the Nile. Asked if they worry about Billharzia, a disease caused by parasitic worms which live in the slower-moving Nile waters, the Nagis nonchalantly shake their heads, saying they are not affected by this disease as they have been living on the river all their lives.

“We know which parts are cleaner for bathing and drinking,” Nahmadu tells us.

The Nagis are, however, worried about pollution in the river that sustains them. The littered river banks, sewage gushing out of big steel pipes and floating garbage are growing problems.

“A lot of restaurants throw garbage in the Nile. We try to tell the authorities when we see this happening because we hate the pollution. This is our livelihood,” Adel says.

Adding insult to injury is the poor fishing season the Nagi family recently experienced. “Every year there is less and less fish,” Adel says. “There are too many fishermen in the water and not enough fish. There are now 15,000 fishermen,” he estimates.

The family believes that the Aswan High Dam, completed in the early 1970s, changed the fishing industry’s dynamics. “There are small fish behind the dam,” Adel says. “The government takes these fish and puts it on the other side of the river to help reproduction, but it’s not enough. The government needs to put more small fish in the river.”

The Nagis generally agree that a fisherman’s life is far from easy. “Living on the river is hazardous. We are not protected by the four walls of a room on the enclosure of a house,” says Nahmadu. So would they prefer to live in a house? The answer — unanimously —was, “Yes.”

“Of course we’d like to live in a house,” Adel shoots back. “If we had a chance to work outside we would rather do that. It would avoid things like everyone living on the same boat.”

Nahmadu adds that his eldest daughter is engaged to be married to a man who is not a fisherman and says he’s delighted with the arrangement: “If the children are wed to an outsider with stable work, this is good.”

Not all fishing families feel the same way. Hisham, a twenty-something fishermen who also traces his roots to Munufiya but belongs to a different family, says he loves the fishing lifestyle. Recently married with a child on the way, Hisham says he could never choose between living in the village or on the water.

“This is where we work,” he says, pointing to the water. “In the village is where we rest.

“We come and go when we want. Yesterday we were in Dokki, today we’re in Giza. The fish dictate where we move. The best thing about our job is that we are free. That’s something money can’t buy.” et