The Our Ocean Conference brought the world to Mombasa and produced billions of dollars in promises. But for Kenya’s Coast, the real story begins after the speeches, panels and official photos.
For three days in June, Mombasa was not just a port city, a tourism gateway or the place travellers pass through on their way to Diani, Watamu, Kilifi or Lamu. It became the centre of a global conversation about the future of the ocean.
The 11th Our Ocean Conference was held in Mombasa from 16 to 18 June 2026 under the theme “Our Ocean, Our Heritage, Our Future.” It was the first time the conference was hosted on African soil, placing Kenya’s Coast and the wider Western Indian Ocean closer to the centre of global ocean policy.
That mattered because the ocean is not an abstract subject here.
In Mombasa, the sea is part of ordinary life. It is the ferry crossing at Likoni, the fishing boats leaving before sunrise, the port channel, the seafood on local menus, the mangroves along creeks and shorelines, the plastic that washes back after heavy rain, the beach clean-ups after busy weekends, the reefs, the tides, the landing sites, the tourism economy and the families whose income depends on the water.
So the question after the conference is not only how many leaders attended or how large the pledges sounded. The more important question is what those promises will mean for the Coast.
The preliminary commitments report says the Mombasa conference produced 320 commitments, mobilising about USD 6.4 billion across 104 countries and organisations. The commitments were grouped under six areas: ocean-climate action, marine pollution, marine protected areas, maritime security, sustainable blue economy and sustainable fisheries.
The Our Ocean Conference is not new. It began in 2014, launched by the U.S. Department of State under then Secretary of State John Kerry, with the aim of pushing ocean discussions beyond speeches and into public commitments.
That idea still shapes the conference. Countries, organisations, businesses and civil society groups are expected to come with specific commitments — what they will do, when they will do it and how much they will invest. Kerry reminded delegates in Mombasa that the conference was designed around action, not general statements. He said the point was for people to come forward with “what they will do and when and how much it will cost.”
Over the years, the conference has moved from country to country and become one of the main global gatherings for ocean protection, sustainable fisheries, marine pollution, climate resilience and the blue economy.
Mombasa now sits inside that history. It was not just another host city. It was the first African host, and that gave the 2026 conference a different weight. For Kenya, the moment was not only about diplomacy. It placed an African coastal city, and the communities of the Western Indian Ocean, inside a global conversation that is often led by wealthier coastal nations.
Kenya’s commitments

The USD 6.4 billion announced in Mombasa was not all for Kenya. It includes commitments from governments, organisations and institutions around the world. But Kenya appears strongly throughout the preliminary report.
As host country, the Government of Kenya made commitments across all six action areas. Taken together, the government commitments with stated financial values add up to just over USD 1 billion. Some commitments do not have a dollar figure attached, so it is more accurate to describe them as a set of commitments rather than money already sitting in project accounts.
That distinction matters.
A conference report is not the same as a completed project. It is a public list of promises. Some may move quickly. Some may take years. Some may change once implementation begins. Others may need pressure, tracking and public accountability before they are felt on the ground.
Still, the Kenya commitments are important because many of them point directly to coastal places and coastal livelihoods: Mombasa and Lamu ports, Kwale’s seascapes, Shimoni, Vanga, Shela, Kilifi, Lamu Bay, mangroves, seagrass beds, fishing grounds and communities trying to earn from the ocean without exhausting it.
Mangroves and seagrass moved to the centre of the conversation
One of Kenya’s strongest commitments is around blue carbon, which refers to the carbon stored in coastal and marine ecosystems such as mangroves and seagrass.
Kenya committed to developing its first National Blue Carbon Framework. It also committed to restoring, protecting and managing 61,000 hectares of mangroves and 39,000 hectares of seagrass by 2030. The same section of the report includes commitments on climate research, shoreline protection, saltwater intrusion, food security, marine early warning systems and support for vulnerable coastal communities.
On paper, that sounds technical. On the Coast, it is very practical.
Mangroves hold shorelines together. They act as nurseries for fish. They support crab and fishery livelihoods. They help protect communities from erosion and storm pressure. In many places, they are also part of how people understand home.
Seagrass is easier to miss because most people do not see it from the road or the beach. But it matters too. It supports marine life, helps stabilise nearshore ecosystems and provides feeding grounds for species such as sea turtles.
If these commitments are done well, they could support areas such as Lamu, Kilifi, Mida Creek, Diani, Vanga and other parts of the Coast where mangroves and seagrass already matter to livelihoods and marine biodiversity.
But restoration is not just planting and taking photos. The bigger issue is management. Who is involved? Who is trained? Who is paid? Who monitors the sites after the launch event? Are communities part of the design from the beginning, or are they brought in after the project has already been decided?
That is the difference between a coastal project that lasts and one that only looks good in a report.
Mombasa and Lamu ports are now part of the pollution test

Marine pollution was another major area, and this is where Mombasa appears very clearly.
Kenya committed to establishing five coastal circular economy hubs for machinery, collection systems and training. It also committed to upgrading infrastructure and digital compliance systems at Mombasa and Lamu ports to improve ship-waste reception and digitise ship-waste tracking by 2030. Another commitment is to establish a national marine debris monitoring system across 10 coastal stations, including microplastic surveillance.
For Mombasa, this is not a side issue.
The port is one of the city’s defining features. What happens in and around it affects the channel, nearby communities, marine life and the wider coastal environment. Better systems for ship waste and marine debris monitoring could make a real difference, but only if they are enforced and followed up publicly.
The circular economy hubs also deserve attention. If they work, they could create useful coastal jobs around collection, sorting, recycling, repair, training and waste recovery. If they do not, they risk becoming another neat phrase that sounds impressive but is hard to see on the ground.
For residents, the test will be visible. Is waste being collected before it reaches the ocean? Are beach and creek clean-ups supported beyond volunteer energy? Are local groups being brought into the system? Are young people and women getting real opportunities from the circular economy, or are they only appearing in project language?
The Coast has heard many promises before. This time, progress needs to be something people can see, measure and question.
The South Coast could enter a new conservation phase
Kenya and Tanzania committed to move forward with the Kwale–Tanga Transboundary Marine Conservation Area. The plan is to finalise a joint framework agreement by 2026, then legally designate the area and develop a joint management plan by 2028. The proposed area would cover at least 200 square kilometres of shared coastline and associated waters.
Kenya also committed to completing ecological assessments, community consultations and a Ramsar nomination dossier for the Msambweni–Vanga Seascape by 2027. The aim is to support the formal designation of at least 71,600 hectares of critical coastal wetlands.
This matters because the South Coast is often described through tourism: Diani, beach hotels, holiday homes, weekend trips and white sand. But beyond that image is a working seascape. People fish there. Communities use the mangroves. Boats move between landing sites. Conservation, tourism and livelihoods sit beside each other, sometimes comfortably and sometimes with tension.
A Kwale–Tanga conservation framework could help manage shared waters between Kenya and Tanzania. It could support biodiversity, fisheries and long-term coastal resilience around places such as Vanga, Shimoni, Wasini and nearby waters.
But marine protection is sensitive. It cannot work if communities feel locked out of decisions that affect their fishing grounds or access to the sea. A map may show a conservation area, but people live inside the reality of it. They need to know what will change, what will not change, who will enforce the rules and what benefits will come back to them.

Illegal fishing was one of the biggest Mombasa outcomes
Illegal, unreported and unregulated fishing became one of the major talking points from the conference.
During the Mombasa meeting, a group of countries adopted the Mombasa Declaration, a fisheries transparency agreement aimed at improving access to information on fishing vessels, ownership and licensing, and strengthening data-sharing for monitoring and enforcement. AP reported that 15 countries adopted it, while Oceana and the Coalition for Fisheries Transparency later described the number as 16. The safest wording is that at least 15 countries adopted the declaration.
This may sound like a distant offshore issue, but it affects coastal communities directly.
When fish stocks are pressured, small-scale fishers feel it. When large vessels operate with limited transparency, local fishers are often the last to know and the first to suffer. When monitoring is weak, it becomes harder to answer basic questions: who is fishing, where are they fishing, and are they following the rules?
Kenya’s own fisheries commitments connect directly to this. The Government of Kenya committed to installing electronic monitoring on all industrial and semi-industrial fishing vessels operating in Kenyan waters, and to equipping small-scale fishing vessels with Class-B AIS systems. It also committed to KMFRI-led fish stock assessments, stronger fisheries policies, co-management areas, observer training and digital tools to combat illegal fishing.
On paper, this is one of the most important sets of commitments for coastal livelihoods.
Better monitoring could help protect fish stocks and improve fairness in the fishing economy. But the benefit will depend on transparency. If data stays inside closed systems, coastal communities may not feel much difference. If it leads to better enforcement, better planning and more trust between authorities and fishers, then it could become one of the conference’s most meaningful outcomes for the Coast.
The issue is not only about catching illegal operators. It is also about making the legal fishing economy work better for the people who depend on it.
Seaweed farming and landing sites are where policy becomes income
Some of the most practical commitments sit under the sustainable blue economy section.
Kenya committed to expanding seaweed farming along the coast from about 300 acres to 8,600 acres. It also committed to constructing five fish landing sites, developing a fisheries processing plant at Shela Beach, training inspectors and investing in climate-resilient technologies in fisheries and aquaculture.
This is where the report moves from policy language into daily income.
Seaweed farming is not just a climate or export idea. For coastal households, it can mean work, cash flow, training, access to buyers and a way to earn from the ocean without fishing more heavily. Fish landing sites and processing facilities matter because they affect hygiene, storage, pricing, transport and the ability of fishers to get better value from their catch.
The Shela processing plant commitment is especially worth watching because processing is often where value is added or lost. If fish is landed but not stored, handled or marketed properly, communities lose income. If infrastructure improves but management is poor, the opportunity is wasted.
The same applies to Shimoni, where Kenya committed to promoting mariculture through the National Marine Hatchery at the National Mariculture Resource and Training Centre in Kwale County.
These projects could support women, youth and fishing communities. But only if they come with training, fair market access, maintenance plans and proper local involvement. Otherwise, the Coast may see infrastructure without impact.
Maritime security is also part of the coastal picture
Maritime security can sound separate from conservation and livelihoods, but on the Coast it is connected.
Kenya committed to developing a National Maritime Security Strategy aligned with the Blue Economy Agenda, aligning the strategy with frameworks such as the Djibouti Code of Conduct and Jeddah Amendment, establishing a National Maritime Information Sharing Centre and strengthening regional cooperation in the Western Indian Ocean.
For Mombasa, this matters because the city sits at the centre of Kenya’s maritime economy. The port, channel, ferry routes, fishing activity and shipping movements are part of the same wider system. Better coordination could support safety, enforcement and planning. But as with everything else, the value will depend on whether these systems improve real outcomes, not just institutional structures.
The smaller Kenya-linked commitments should not be ignored

The conference was not only about government.
The preliminary report also includes Kenya-linked commitments from local organisations, universities, youth groups, conservation bodies and international partners. These include work on parametric insurance for small-scale fishers, seagrass policy, youth-led mangrove restoration, plastic brand audits, Kilifi clean-ups, Ocean Sole’s plastic recovery and upcycling work, Lamu Bay fisheries governance, coastal research and community-led ocean action.
These smaller commitments may not carry the biggest numbers, but they are often closer to the ground. They are the kinds of projects people may actually encounter through clean-ups, training, research, conservation groups, community monitoring, schools, youth networks and local livelihoods.
For the Coast, those stories are worth following. Not only what ministries announce, but what happens in Kilifi, Lamu, Kwale, Mombasa and the smaller coastal communities where ocean policy becomes daily life.
Mombasa gained attention. Now it needs follow-through.
Hosting the Our Ocean Conference gave Mombasa rare global visibility. For a few days, the city was not discussed only as a tourism stop, a port, or a place of traffic and ferry delays. It was presented as a coastal city central to global ocean action.
That visibility has value. But visibility is not the same as change.
A conference can put Mombasa on the world stage. It cannot, by itself, fix plastic pollution, weak waste systems, damaged ecosystems, poor landing infrastructure, overfishing or the frustration communities feel when decisions are made far away from them.
President William Ruto made that point during the closing of the conference. He said leaders had not come to Mombasa simply to add their names to another list of promises, but “to turn the tide.” The measure of the conference, he said, should be what is delivered “in the water,” not only what was pledged on the shore.
That is the right test for Mombasa.
The preliminary report itself says the listed commitments were accurate as of 18 June 2026, with a final report expected later. It also notes that the commitments are meant to be publicly available through the OOC Commitments Platform, with live progress updates and regular assessments intended to support transparency and accountability.
That means the story is still open.
For Mombasa, the follow-up may be port waste systems and marine debris monitoring. For Kwale, it may be conservation planning, seaweed farming, mariculture and fisheries infrastructure. For Kilifi and Lamu, it may be plastic recovery, blue carbon, reef protection, fisheries governance and coastal research. For fishers, it may be whether better monitoring actually changes the balance at sea.
The conference gave Kenya a public list of ocean promises. The Coast now needs proof of work.
Where the conference goes next
Mombasa was not the end of the Our Ocean story.
Canada will host the 12th Our Ocean Conference in Halifax, Nova Scotia, in spring 2027. After that, Jamaica is expected to host the first Caribbean edition in Montego Bay in 2029. No Our Ocean Conference is planned for 2028 because the UN Ocean Conference is scheduled for that year.
That wider timeline matters because it gives Mombasa’s conference a place in a continuing process. The pledges made on Kenya’s Coast should not disappear once the next host city takes over. They should be tracked, questioned and revisited.
By the time the conference moves to Halifax, coastal communities in Kenya should be able to ask what has started. By the time it reaches Jamaica, they should be able to ask what has changed.
What this means for Kenya’s Coast
The Our Ocean Conference in Mombasa was a big moment, but its legacy will not be decided by the size of the announcement.
It will be decided in quieter places.
At fish landing sites. In mangrove areas. Around port systems. In community meetings. Along beaches after the crowds leave. In the waters where small-scale fishers work. In villages where seaweed farming is expected to grow. In government offices where plans either move forward or sit untouched.
For Kenya’s Coast, the commitments could mean cleaner waters, better-managed fisheries, stronger marine protection, improved coastal livelihoods and more serious investment in the blue economy. They could also become another set of promises that sound impressive but remain distant from ordinary people.
The difference will be accountability.
