Twelve-year-old Gabriel’s painting depicts two men at sea, practising kanicham, a traditional method of visual triangulation used by artisanal fishers along the coast of Kerala’s Thiruvananthapuram to navigate and locate fishing grounds. Nearby, 10-year-old Joe’s artwork captures women carrying their catch, while 13-year-old Lena takes viewers beneath the waves, bringing the biodiversity of the underwater world to life.
The paintings, along with several others portraying the lives, livelihoods and knowledge of south Kerala’s coastal communities, found a place in two pavilions at the 17th Conference of the Parties (COP17) to the United Nations Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD), which began in Yerevan, Armenia, on October 19. The children themselves were not present at the conference, but their work drew appreciation from delegates from across the world.
Beyond their colours and detail, the paintings carried a larger message from the fishing communities of Thiruvananthapuram: their knowledge of the sea, passed down through generations, is an essential part of conserving marine biodiversity, yet it remains insufficiently recognised in scientific research and global conservation policy. As governments gather at COP17 to negotiate the future of biodiversity, these children’s paintings offer a glimpse of what is often missing from the negotiating table — the lived experiences and knowledge of communities that have long depended on, observed and understood the natural world.
Behind the effort to bring these paintings to COP17 is Johnson Jamnet, an Indigenous scholar from Thiruvananthapuram’s fishing community and director of Blue Green Coastal Resources. For Johnson, the artworks are a way of taking the community’s knowledge of the sea to a global platform where biodiversity is discussed, but where the people who understand it through generations of lived experience are often overlooked.
“The coastal communities of south Kerala and Kanyakumari stretch along about 50 km of coastline, but they travel around 100 km offshore for fishing. It means they have that much knowledge,” he told TNM.
Much of this knowledge, however, remains undocumented. “There is so much knowledge that we have not documented yet. The idea is to document it, particularly knowledge related to marine biodiversity,” Johnson says.
But he adds that this knowledge cannot be separated from the culture, beliefs and everyday lives of the people who hold it. “When we talk about a community’s knowledge, we cannot extract it and look at it purely through the lens of biodiversity. It is biocultural knowledge, because people relate what they know about fish to their community life.”
One of the key issues Johnson has brought to COP17 is the need to recognise, document and credit the traditional knowledge of Indigenous Peoples and local communities, rather than allowing it to be absorbed into scientific research and conservation initiatives without acknowledging its origins.
For coastal fishing communities, this knowledge is built on generations of observing the sea, understanding underwater habitats, identifying fish species and adapting fishing practices to marine life. It can also play a crucial role in conserving biodiversity.
Johnson says the community’s highly selective fishing methods help minimise bycatch, the capture of juvenile fish and overfishing. Fishers draw on their understanding of the sea to identify where different species are found, the sizes of fish likely to be available and the techniques best suited to catching them. They navigate by observing stars and planets and assess the seabed – whether sandy, muddy, rocky or covered by reefs – to identify underwater habitats. This knowledge helps them choose appropriate fishing methods and adjust hook sizes to target specific species while avoiding the indiscriminate capture of other marine life and undersized fish.
“We catch only the fish we need. This is selective, micro-level fishing, guided by a deep understanding of the underwater ecosystem. That is the technology our community has developed,” Johnson says. The same understanding informs how fishers place artificial reefs, positioning them near suitable underwater habitats rather than indiscriminately dumping materials on the seabed.
Yet, Johnson says, when such community knowledge informs scientific research or conservation projects, its origins are not always acknowledged. “Scientists should never devalue other people’s knowledge. It is unethical. A scientist’s responsibility is to acknowledge where information comes from, that is what we are taught,” he says. “Unfortunately, when scientists draw on the knowledge of indigenous and traditional communities, they often fail to acknowledge its source.”
He points to artificial reefs as an example. Johnson says fishers in his community have long used their understanding of the marine environment to create underwater habitats, including by sinking old catamarans weighted with stones to attract fish. Over time, such practices became part of organised fisheries and conservation initiatives, but he believes the contribution of traditional fishing communities has not received adequate recognition.
The history of artificial reefs along Kerala’s coast illustrates how practices developed by fishing communities evolved into organised projects. In the 1980s, fishers along the Vizhinjam coast began sinking materials in the sea, initially in attempts to mark off fishing areas. The practice later inspired artificial reef projects. In 1990, a project at Pozhiyoor received Kerala government funding, becoming India’s first government-supported artificial reef initiative, according to ocean researcher Robert Panipilla, head of Friends of Marine Life.
Artificial reefs subsequently became part of formal fisheries programmes. The Central Marine Fisheries Research Institute (CMFRI) conducted workshops and training on the practice and secured a patent for concrete artificial reef structures in 2012.
Johnson, however, alleges that the contribution of traditional fishing communities to the idea has not been adequately acknowledged. “In fact, CMFRI took this idea from us, from our community. But they never acknowledge that the knowledge came from the community,” he says.
For Johnson, documenting traditional knowledge is therefore about more than preserving cultural heritage. It is also about establishing its origins, ensuring that the communities that developed it receive recognition and protecting their right to benefit when others use it. Without proper documentation and acknowledgement, he warns, generations of accumulated knowledge risk being appropriated by institutions with greater scientific authority and resources, while the communities behind it remain invisible.
He raises similar concerns over the recognition of marine species. Johnson cites an example from Vizhinjam where, he alleges, a marine species bears a scientist’s name despite local fishers having identified it earlier through their knowledge of the sea. The specific species and the circumstances of its naming would need to be independently verified.
These concerns reflect a wider demand from Indigenous Peoples and local communities at COP17: that their knowledge be recognised not merely as a source of information, but as an essential contribution to biodiversity conservation. They are also seeking a say in how that knowledge is used, safeguards against its exploitation and a fair share of the benefits arising from it.
The debate at COP17 is part of a broader international effort to change how biodiversity conservation recognises and engages with Indigenous Peoples and local communities. The global framework adopted under the CBD acknowledges that protecting nature is not just about conserving forests, wildlife and ecosystems. It is also about recognising the rights and knowledge of the people who depend on them and ensuring that these communities have a meaningful role in decisions affecting their resources and livelihoods.
At COP16, held in 2024, countries adopted a new Programme of Work on Article 8(j) of the Convention, which concerns the traditional knowledge, innovations and practices of Indigenous Peoples and local communities relevant to biodiversity conservation and sustainable use. The programme aims to strengthen their contributions to the Convention’s three objectives: conserving biodiversity, ensuring its sustainable use, and promoting the fair and equitable sharing of benefits arising from the utilisation of genetic resources.
Countries also agreed to establish a permanent subsidiary body on Article 8(j), providing a dedicated space within the CBD process to address issues affecting Indigenous Peoples and local communities and strengthen their participation in biodiversity-related negotiations and decisions.
These commitments are closely linked to Target 22 of the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework, which calls for full, equitable, inclusive, effective and gender-responsive participation in biodiversity decision-making. It also calls for access to justice and environmental information, respect for communities’ rights over their lands, territories, resources and traditional knowledge, and the full protection of environmental human rights defenders.
The implications extend beyond representation at international negotiations. They concern whether communities can influence decisions about forests, coastlines, fisheries and other ecosystems on which they depend; whether their knowledge is respected in conservation policies; and whether they can challenge projects that threaten their resources and livelihoods.
For communities such as the artisanal fishers of Thiruvananthapuram, these commitments raise a fundamental question: will international recognition of traditional knowledge translate into meaningful acknowledgement, decision-making power and a fair share of the benefits when that knowledge is used?
The struggle for recognition is not unique to Kerala. Across the world, Indigenous Peoples and local communities are seeking to ensure that conservation initiatives built on their knowledge remain under their control, even when governments and organisations step in to support them.
Mrinalini Rai, director of global advocacy organisation Women4Biodiversity, says the negotiations on traditional knowledge at COP17 are also about how Indigenous Peoples are recognised within the global biodiversity framework. Although the CBD has established a permanent subsidiary body on Article 8(j), questions around the use of traditional knowledge and fair benefit-sharing remain unresolved.
Rai says Indigenous Peoples are pushing back against being grouped with businesses and other interests under the broad category of non-state actors, arguing that this fails to recognise their distinct rights and status. “Indigenous people are saying that we’re not non-state actors. We are rights holders,” she says. “We don’t want to be piled up under non-state actors, because one of the biggest identifications of non-state actors are businesses and industries.”
Frances Jenner, a representative of the Forest Peoples Programme which organises discussions with indigenous communities, points to an example from Malaysia, where a community-led coral reef initiative grew with support from organisations and the government. But the community insisted that the initiative remain its own.
“Without the community starting it, it wouldn’t have happened. And so having that motivation, that starter is the most important thing. And that’s coming from communities,” she says.
Jenner warns that community contributions can disappear from official accounts of conservation, allowing governments and institutions to receive recognition for work that communities initiated and sustained. She argues that support must strengthen community ownership rather than displace it. Access to direct funding is also crucial, she says, noting that complicated applications, language barriers and demanding reporting requirements can prevent communities from obtaining the resources they need to continue their work.
The same struggle for recognition is playing out in international biodiversity negotiations, says Jennifer Tauli-Corpuz, a lawyer with Nia Tero who works alongside indigenous groups in the negotiations. She points to Local Biodiversity Outlooks, published by the International Indigenous Forum on Biodiversity (IIFB), which document how Indigenous Peoples and local communities contribute to biodiversity conservation.
“We are trying to get that into the text, the recognition of these Local Biodiversity Outlooks,” she says, warning that Indigenous Peoples risk becoming invisible when their contributions are grouped together with those of other stakeholders.
The question of recognition also extends to the use of traditional knowledge in scientific research and commercial development. Tauli-Corpuz argues that knowledge held by indigenous communities often helps researchers understand how biological resources can be used.
“We argued that all genetic resources now have embodied traditional knowledge, because the way that you discover how to use it is through traditional knowledge,” she says.
For the indigenous groups the challenge is not merely to document traditional knowledge, but to ensure that the communities who hold it retain ownership, receive recognition and have a meaningful say in how it is used. As biodiversity negotiations continue at COP17, their accounts point to a common demand: conservation cannot fully recognise the contributions of Indigenous Peoples and local communities while leaving them without the power and resources to sustain their work.
This story was produced as part of the 2026 CBD COP17 Fellowship, operated by Informed Earth in collaboration with Internews’ Earth Journalism Network
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