Navi Borrika stood beside the broken remains of her father’s house, staring at the waves that had taken everything she once called home.

The sea had entered their houses, which forced them to make a tent at the refuse dump. “That is where I sleep now. Life is very difficult for us.”

For years, the people of Salakope and Amutsinu have lived in fear as the sea continues to wash away their homes, their livelihoods, and their hope for a safe future.

Now, the destruction has forced many families to move—sometimes far away from the only place they have ever known.

Navi has lost both her home and her work. Most of her livelihood depended on the sea, but now the sea is full of rocks. “Our nets are stuck inside. We borrow money to survive, and now we are in debt,” she said.

Her smokehouse—once full of fish—is now empty and today she has no fish to smoke. “What to eat is a daily struggle. I have children in school, and we don’t know how to care for them. My husband no longer goes fishing because the sea is destroying everything.”

Without help from their local association, she fears displacement may be her only option. “No one is showing concern. They only give basins and metal rods for fishing, but now, when we really need help, there is nothing.”

Not far away, a man known simply as Shagah Tete sat quietly. His life, too, has been uprooted. He says when the sea is at its peak, it enters their houses and he has no place to stay, not even money to go somewhere.

“I used to be a herbalist before I returned home, but now I do nothing. Things are hard for me. My wife is no more. The children are my burden, and I don’t know how to take care of them.”

Fear now dictates where he sleeps and he chooses to sleep on the memorial walls to avoid any surprises while in his room.

“I’m afraid to sleep in my room. If the tide comes, something may fall on me. When I sleep on the memorial walls, maybe the waves will only roll over me. Maybe I will be saved. Maybe not,” he lamented.

Across Ketu South, many families are already leaving. Some have moved inland. Others have relocated to live with relatives. Some are leaving the municipality entirely.

Local leaders say thousands more may be forced to migrate in the coming years.

Salakope Chief Fisherman Emmanuel Anumu Tetteh has watched this pattern unfold with deep worry. The destruction started deep some years ago. “We have been crying for help, but nothing has come,” he said.

Sitting by the last standing wall of one of his homes, he pointed to the empty space where houses once stood—now swallowed by the ocean, 200 to 300 meters deep.

“Every night, no one sleeps. The sea comes to the house and goes back. Even today, the sea entered my house last night,” he said.

Fishing has collapsed and most families no longer have nets, while others are in debt. “We are in heavy debt, and we can’t find daily food. This is not my structure. Hunger is killing all of us.”

Yet he still believes help must come. “The president came here before and saw what was happening. I believe he will help—but the intervention must come quickly.”

For many families, staying is no longer about comfort—it's about survival.

“We have nowhere to go,” said Ablavi Alobui. “We cannot even find space to cook our food. The sea is now living with us. We urgently need help.”

Another resident, Wonder Alobuia, says their situation keeps getting worse. When they cast their nets, they catch nothing, and finding food has become a serious struggle. “Sometimes we mine salt just to survive. We are pleading with the government to help us return to where we once lived.”

Life has become even harder and some now sleep on the street. “I sleep on the street with my children and grandchildren. I hide under things at night. I have no place to smoke fish anymore,” Evelyn Tettey said.

The destruction feels endless and the sea chased many even after they moved to the other side of the street. “Now I am helpless. Even tonight, I do not know how it will be. We are urging the government to help us live happily again,” says Ahorlu Ablama Abordelu.

The situation has turned once-busy fishing towns into communities on the verge of mass migration.

A TOWN LOSING GROUND—AND PEOPLE

Agavedzi, Salakope, and Amutsinu were among the hardest hit communities in Ketu South.

Tidal waves have swept away homes, displaced families, and pushed seawater and sand—up to 12 centimetres deep—onto the main road.

Schools, clinics, and public facilities now stand at the edge of collapse.

More than 300 people have been displaced this year alone, 51 households destroyed, and 800 metres of coastal land washed away.

Without protection, local authorities fear the next disaster could trigger the largest internal migration the municipality has ever seen.

MAHAMA’S VISIT AND PROMISE

President John Dramani Mahama visited the communities on Independence Day after touring the ruined coastline.

“We already have a comprehensive report on the situation,” he said. “We just have to allocate the funding for the project.”

He said the government has not forgotten about the people and their plight. “We will do everything possible to ameliorate the plight you are going through,” he assured.

Traditional leaders saw his visit as a sign of hope. “You started the sea defence project in 2015; if the New Patriotic Party (NPP) had continued it, this would not have happened,” said Togbi Adama III, Paramount Chief of Some.

In July 2025, work finally began on Phase II of the Blekusu Coastal Protection Project. President Mahama officially launched the four-year intervention on 20th July 2025.

The Minister for Works, Housing and Water Resources, Kenneth Gilbert Adjei, said the project aims to provide long-term protection, stability, and security.

“Beyond just preventing destruction, this project is about restoring dignity, reviving livelihoods, and keeping families safe in their homes.”

The project includes erosion control structures, dune restoration, shoreline stabilisation, a fish market, cold storage and processing facilities, a lorry park, public toilets and a solid waste disposal system.

“These facilities will help promote economic growth, sanitation, and social protection within the beneficiary communities,” he added.

Phase I, completed in 2015, protected 4.3 km of coastline. Phase II—stalled after 2017—will now protect an additional 8 km, covering Blekusu, Agavedzi, Salakope, Amutsinu, and Adina.

Government has secured an 83-million-dollar loan to support the work. The West Africa Coastal Areas (WACA) Programme will further extend protection from Blekusu to Aflao.

HOPE—BUT WITH FEAR

With construction now underway, residents are hopeful—but cautious. After years of losses, they fear delays could worsen displacement or push more families to migrate inland or to cities like Aflao, Keta, and even Accra.

“The time to act is now,” they warn. “Before the sea takes more homes, livelihoods, and lives.”

For many families in Salakope and Amutsinu, the new sea defence project is not just a development plan—it is their last hope to stay in the land they call home, instead of becoming climate migrants in their own country.

This is a JoyNews-CDKN-University of Ghana C3SS project with funding from CLARE R4I Opportunities Fund.