Keta’s coastal defense: saving one shore, destroying another

It was a regular Tuesday evening in Horvi, and Adzi Fofoe, 42, was lying on the beach near his home. The heat in his small room was unbearable, so he had stepped out to sleep under the stars.

That night, as he slept on the beach, disaster struck. A powerful tidal wave rolled in, and before he could comprehend what was happening, it was already lapping at the shore. Realizing the danger, Mr. Fofoe dashed back to his home to salvage what he could, but the waves had taken the lead.  Sea water flooded his room, and in the chaos, he managed to save only a few utensils, clothes, and some furniture. Moments later, the waves intensified, collapsing the building that had sheltered his family for years.

“These tidal waves are nothing new,” Mr. Fofoe reflected bitterly. “We know they happen often, especially during the storm surge season. But this one was different. It didn’t just flood my home—it destroyed it. In minutes, everything we worked for was gone.”

 Mr. Fofoe has been a fisherman for over 30 years, venturing out into the sea to haul in large catches that provided food for his family and a steady income from sales. But those days are now a distant memory. Now, with his wife and seven children cramped into a temporary shelter at Havedzi, Mr. Fofoe’s struggles have only deepened. Feeding and clothing his children who are aged between 5 and 16 years old, is a daily challenge—let alone sending them to school.

Since the disaster that destroyed his home, Mr. Fofoe has been relegated to menial fishing in a  nearby lagoon with his wife, using broken bottles to trap fish—a far cry from the thriving fishing business he once ran.

The devastation Mr. Fofoe suffered was not unique. It marked just one of the many tragedies faced by the people of Kedzi, Horvi, and Havedzi where the once-thriving coastal communities have become a staging post for nature’s fury.

Akosombo Dam’s contribution to shrinking coastline

These disasters date back to the 1950s when Keta’s coastal landscape began to face an alarming transformation. The town, characterized by low-lying lands and unconsolidated “soft” sediments, found itself increasingly vulnerable to the forces of nature. The construction of the Akosombo Hydroelectric Dam in 1961 marked a turning point, setting off a chain of events that accelerated the erosion crisis. The dam’s impact on the Volta River disrupted the natural flow of sand, gravel, and other materials that move along the coastline, creating a significant shortage of beach sediments along Keta’s shores. The situation escalated as the combination of rising sea levels, lagoon water surges, and heavy rainfall led to frequent flooding.

The Keta coast faced severe consequences from coastal erosion and climate change, displacing communities and halting commercial activities as homes, schools, and culturally significant sites were destroyed. Agricultural land became infertile due to erosion and salinization, reducing crop yields. Fishing and the cultivation of economic crops like coconut suffered significant losses. The once-thriving coastline crumbled, leaving a lasting impact on Keta’s economy and heritage.

The urgency for intervention became clear. With the livelihoods and cultural heritage of the Keta coast hanging in the balance, drastic measures were needed to halt the rapid encroachment of the sea and restore hope to the communities that called this land, home.

Ambitious project to tame the sea

Amid relentless waves and their unyielding advancement,  hope emerged like the first light of dawn. In 1999, the unveiling of the ambitious Keta Sea Defense Project (KSDP) marked a pivotal moment in the fight to reclaim the shoreline and secure a future for Keta and its neighbouring towns.

The journey toward this monumental achievement began in 1997 when feasibility studies were launched to explore solutions to the devastating erosion. The situation called for bold action, and the plan that emerged was both visionary and monumental. The KSDP, valued then at US$ 85 million, was funded by the Exim Bank of the United States and carried out by the Great Lakes Dredge and Dock Company. Baird & Associates and Messrs Conterra Limited contributed their expertise in design and consultancy.

By the time construction commenced in 1999, optimism in Keta was growing. The project involved massive undertakings, including the movement of 12 million cubic meters of sand and 1 million tons of rock. The sea defense works were designed to prevent further erosion and stabilise the coastline. It included six groynes, strategically constructed to trap sand and protect the beaches from wave-induced erosion, each extending approximately 180 meters into the sea. Additionally, a revetment was installed to prevent the sea from washing away the land. The project also incorporated a protective beach fill, and a flood barrier along the coastline from Keta to Kedzi, providing wider protection against flooding and erosion.

Beyond combating erosion, the project addressed multiple challenges. As noted by Prof. Isaac Boateng, a senior lecturer, and researcher at the University of Portsmouth, UK, in his research paper published in May 2009, the KSD project included the construction of an 8.3km road between Keta and Havedzi to improve connectivity and the installation of a 20-gate, 80.5-meter flood control system to regulate lagoon water levels and prevent flooding. In another research paper published in September 2020, Richard Adikah and three other academic researchers also highlighted that out of 270 hectares designated for land reclamation, 240 hectares were restored, primarily for habitation and industry, with the remainder allocated for conservation. They also pointed out that the KSD project also created nine bird islands within the lagoon, providing critical habitats for wildlife. Owing to these factors, they concluded that the project successfully stabilised the shoreline, prevented flooding, and reclaimed valuable land for habitation and industrial purposes.

The achievement of this project was largely credited to its comprehensive design. Thus, by integrating groynes, revetments, and flood control structures, the initiative effectively addressed the region’s critical erosion challenges, significantly benefiting the local communities, as highlighted by the West African Coastal Observation Mission (WACOM) project. For the people of Keta, it represented a new dawn, a fortified stand against the forces of nature, and a commitment to preserving their heritage for future generations.

However, the benefits of the project were limited to the stretch between Keta and Kedzi. Down-drift areas including Kedzi, Horvi, and Havedzi, thus places along the coast that are geographically vulnerable to changes upshore, experienced the unintended consequences of this intervention. According to a study conducted by the West Africa Coastal Areas Management Program (WACA), while the defense structures effectively managed erosion within the protected zone, they significantly worsened conditions along the eastern shoreline. The study further pointed out that the groynes, designed to trap sediment and stabilize the beach at Keta, inadvertently starved the down-drift coastline of sediment—such as sand, gravel, and other materials—they needed to protect against erosion. As a result, erosion rates increased drastically—from 3.2 meters per year before the project to an alarming 17 meters per year after its completion, according to the WACA study.

This unforeseen impact was traced to the lack of baseline data before the project’s implementation. Projections were based on historical reconstructions of coastal conditions, which may not have fully captured the dynamic and evolving nature of the shoreline. Years after the KSD project was completed, the sediment deprivation caused by the groynes emerged as a significant challenge, inadvertently increasing erosion down-drift and creating new victims for the ravages of the sea in neighbouring communities.

Tears for fisherfolks

The consequences of this erosion have been devastating for fishermen like Mr. Fofoe. The rising waters have swept away fishing docks and submerged previously accessible fishing grounds, leaving them unable to practice their trade effectively.

“Before the sea defense, we used to have large fish and bigger catches,” says Mr. Fofoe. “But now, when we go fishing, we don’t even get anything. We are suffering.”

Many other fishermen have been displaced, losing their homes and nets. “Some of us have moved our nets to Togo and Benin because there is no place here to settle,” says Cephas Kokoroko, who also has over 30 years of fishing experience. In the midst of these challenges, he has  four children to take care of.

The erosion’s impact on fishing methods is stark. The groynes have caused a downdrift erosion effect, making the shore shallower and push the fish further into the sea.

“The sea is now higher than the ground, and this has pushed the fishes away, drastically reducing our catches,” Chief fisherman of Horvi, Papaga Kevewo laments.

Several fishermen are calling for government’s assistance

“The groynes should be extended further into the sea to reclaim land and attract fish back to the shore,” says William Azalletey, a fisherman at Kedzi with  over 50 years of fishing experience.

Others emphasised the need for proper monitoring and maintenance of the existing structures to prevent further degradation.

Fishmongers, primarily women, have also borne the brunt of the devastation.

“Because of the erosion, we can’t get fish to buy here, so we travel to Adina, Gavedzi, and even as far as Togo to get some,” says Yawo Quashiga, a fishmonger with over 40 years of experience, who lives in Kedzi. The additional costs and reduced supply have driven up fish prices, making it harder for fishmongers to sustain their livelihoods.

The infrastructure needed for fishmongering has also suffered.

“The oven I used for smoking fish was destroyed by the flooding,” says Mary Amematsror, a fishmonger from Horvi who now sells “waakye” to support her family.

The human cost of erosion, however, extends beyond livelihoods. Living conditions and social cohesion are also impacted by widespread displacement that has left families in dire situations. Many, like Cephas Kokoroko, live with relatives or in overcrowded shelters.

“The displacement has caused misunderstandings because we are now perching in other people’s homes,” added Chief Fisherman Kevewo.

_____ Makeshift housing at Kedzi accommodating displaced persons

The cultural impact of the displacement is also significant.

“We were fishermen, but now we live in farming communities where we don’t know how to farm,” explains Raphael, an assemblyman at Horvi. Many displaced persons are unable to adapt to their new environment, leading to struggles with unemployment and instability.

The residents of Horvi strongly believe the Keta Sea Defense Project, though well-intentioned, has exacerbated their plight.

“The groynes stop all the sand from reaching us,” argues Dzifa Nyamedor, a community leader. They propose extending the groynes to Aflao and incorporating revetments, as done in Akplortorkor and Atorkor, to adequately manage erosion.

Residents call for inclusion of their inputs  during project planning

“They consult us, but they don’t take our suggestions seriously,” says Victor Dzokoto, General Secretary of the Ghana National Canoe Fishermen Council. He emphasises the need to integrate local knowledge with scientific expertise.

Furthermore, residents urge the government to reclaim land from the sea to build affordable housing for displaced persons. “If the government dredges the sea to reclaim land, it can provide homes for those of us who lost everything,” Chief fisherman Kevewo suggests.

The concerns of the affected communities have been brought to the attention of experts, sparking significant debate about the environmental impact on neighboring areas. According to Rex Edekor, the Municipal Assembly Engineer who supervised the KSD project, the erosion observed in down-drift areas like Horvi and Havedzi is not directly attributable to the Keta Sea Defense. Instead, he suggests it stems from a combination of natural coastal dynamics and insufficient engineering solutions implemented in subsequent projects like the Agavedzi-Blekusu Sea Defense Project.

Mr. Edekor explains that the Keta Sea Defense project incorporated mitigating measures at Kedzi, such as using large stones to protect the road and designating a “sacrificial land” strip for erosion between Kedzi and Horvi. This area was intentionally left for the sea to erode while protecting critical infrastructure. He argues that erosion in areas like Horvi is partly due to natural phenomena that occur along the entire West African coastline.

Rejecting the suggestion that the Keta groynes are exacerbating erosion, he points out that since 2004, the groynes have reached a “bypassing condition”. This means that the cells are filled with sand, allowing sediment to bypass naturally. “The groynes are doing their job, reclaiming land and providing protection, with no new erosion beyond the 8km protected area,” he emphasizes.

However, Mr. Edekor raised concerns about the effectiveness of similar down-drift groyne projects, particularly regarding the engineering quality of the Agavedzi-Blekusu project, which is intended to protect coastal communities such as Horvi and Havedzi from the recurring tidal wave attacks caused by the down-drift erosion of the Keta Sea Defense (KSD). He criticized the use of smaller stones and shorter groynes compared to the Keta project, which he believes have compromised their effectiveness. “What was done at Blekusu is not comparable to Keta. It’s an inferior solution, and that’s part of why these areas are suffering,” he insists.    

In response to the increasing erosion issues in surrounding communities, Mr. Edekor advocates for a comprehensive, multi-pronged approach to future coastal defense projects. He stresses the need for improved engineering standards, drawing from the high-quality Keta Sea Defense as a model. He also calls for regular, systematic monitoring of coastal projects, which he believes is lacking and reflective of broader institutional neglect. Furthermore, Mr. Edekor highlights the necessity of scientific research and adaptive management, particularly detailed studies on sediment dynamics, to create sustainable and evidence-based solutions for the entire coastline.

In the face of relentless erosion, the communities of Kedzi, Horvi, and Havedzi stand as both witnesses and victims of nature’s fury, compounded by a profound lack of institutional support. Despite the construction of the Keta Sea Defense, which has stabilized parts of the coastline, the devastation continues downstream, leaving entire families displaced and struggling to rebuild their lives. As these communities stare down an uncertain future, the absence of a dedicated fund or compensation for their losses underscores a harsh reality: they are apparently on their own.

Mr. Daryl Bosu, Deputy National Director of Operations for A Rocha Ghana, encapsulates their plight, saying:

All you can do is just pray and hope that the devastation doesn’t get to you, because if that happens, there is no help coming from the outside. There is no dedicated fund or support for these victims who have faced this devastation.”

The engineers and researchers involved in the coastal defense efforts may struggle to reconcile their plans with the communities’ lived experiences, but one fact remains indisputable: the people living along these shores are sitting on a time bomb, unsure when the next storm surge will come. Families like Mr. Fofoe’s are forced to live with the loss of their homes and livelihoods, without the financial or institutional support needed to recover. As they continue to hope for the best, the worst remains a constant, looming threat.

Ultimately, the story of these communities is one of resilience in the face of devastation, but also one of waiting—waiting for a storm that could yet again change the course of their lives in an instant. And as they wait, the lack of support only deepens their vulnerability, amplifying the fear that the worst may still be ahead.

The author of this report, Nana Ntiako Dacosta, is a Fellow of the 2024 Next Generation Investigative Journalism Fellowship at the Media Foundation for West Africa.