Following the Fishrot Money Trail: How $650 Million Moved Through the Shadow
Fishrot isn't just a story about fishing or fraud—it's a warning about what happens when weak compliance meets unchecked power.
The Leak That Shook Two Continents
In November 2019, a trove of leaked documents—emails, contracts, spreadsheets—blew open one of the biggest corruption scandals in African history. Known as the Fishrot Files, the leak exposed how Iceland's largest fishing company, Samherji, secured access to Namibia's valuable fishing quotas by bribing top government officials and laundering the profits through a global web of shell companies.
The fallout was immediate: two cabinet ministers arrested, $650 million flagged as suspicious, and the company's former general manager allegedly poisoned for blowing the whistle. Yet six years on, the main trial hasn't properly begun.
Fishrot isn't just a story about fisheries. It's a case study in how financial crime flows across borders—disguised as consulting fees, concealed behind nominee directors, and protected by silence. For compliance professionals, the lessons are clear: red flags don't wave themselves. You need tools—and courage—to act.
Where Greed Meets Opportunity
Off the coast of Namibia lies one of the richest fisheries in the world, especially for horse mackerel—an oily fish with high commercial value across Africa and beyond. In a country where over a third of the population lives in poverty, fishing rights represent not just an economic asset, but a national lifeline.
Or, as Samherji saw it, an opportunity.
Starting in 2012, the Icelandic fishing giant began courting Namibia's political elite. On paper, they formed joint ventures with local firms, promising jobs and infrastructure. In reality, they controlled the vessels, dictated operations, and siphoned profits overseas—all secured through bribes and backroom deals worth millions.
The Architecture of Deception
What makes Fishrot remarkable isn't the corruption—it's the sophistication. This wasn't briefcases of cash exchanged in parking lots. It was a carefully orchestrated financial maze spanning four continents:
The Global Shell Game
Picture money flowing like this: A payment leaves a fishing company in Walvis Bay, Namibia. It travels to a shell company in Cyprus (but actually lands in a Norwegian bank account). From there, it splits—some to Mauritius for "management fees," some to Dubai as "consulting payments." Eventually, it circles back to Namibian officials through yet another offshore entity.
Each stop served a purpose:
Cyprus: Provided EU respectability and banking access
Dubai: Offered secrecy through Jebel Ali Free Zone companies
Mauritius: Exploited tax treaties to minimize payments
Marshall Islands: Guaranteed anonymous company ownership
Norway: Where DNB bank processed everything despite red flags
The numbers are staggering. Namibia's Financial Intelligence Centre ultimately flagged $650 million as suspicious—nearly 5% of the country's entire GDP.
The Whistleblower Who Knew Too Much
Jóhannes Stefánsson was Samherji's man in Namibia—their general manager and, ironically, the architect of many offshore structures. But by 2016, the weight of what he'd witnessed became unbearable. He walked away.
Then he did something almost no one does: he collected evidence and spoke up.
Stefánsson leaked over 30,000 documents to WikiLeaks—emails discussing bribes, contracts with shell companies, spreadsheets tracking illicit payments. His decision nearly cost him his life. He was allegedly poisoned multiple times and has faced years of threats and legal harassment. But his testimony transformed Fishrot from rumor into evidence.
The Playbook: How They Moved the Money
1. The Consulting Fee Disguise
The genius of Fishrot was its banality. Bribes weren't labeled "BRIBE" in the accounting software. Instead, millions moved as:
"Management services" to companies with no managers
"Marketing fees" to entities with no marketing function
"Intellectual property licenses" for knowledge that didn't exist
"Technical consulting" from consultants who never consulted
One shell company in Dubai, Tundavala Investments, existed solely to receive these payments. Its owner? James Hatuikulipi—chairman of Namibia's state fishing company and son-in-law of the Fisheries Minister.
2. The Mauritius Mirage
Here's a masterclass in tax treaty abuse: Samherji created a company in Mauritius with zero employees, zero offices, zero operations. Why? Because Mauritius had a tax treaty with Namibia allowing profits to flow out at minimal rates.
The Mauritius entity would invoice the Namibian companies for revenue as "management fees." The money would leave Namibia (avoiding 32% corporate tax) and land in Mauritius (paying just 3% under the treaty). From there, it vanished into the global financial system.
3. The Transfer Pricing Trick
Samherji's Namibian companies would catch fish and immediately sell it—at below-market prices—to sister companies in Cyprus. Those companies would then resell the same fish at full market value. The profit? Booked in Cyprus at 12.5% tax instead of Namibia's 32%.
They pulled the same trick in reverse with vessel charters, overpaying related companies for ship leases. Money flowed out through both ends of the operation.
4. The Norwegian Laundering Loop
Perhaps most audacious was the banking arrangement. While payments appeared to flow through Cyprus, the actual bank accounts sat in Norway with state-owned DNB bank. Even when Bank of New York Mellon flagged transactions for money laundering concerns, DNB continued processing them.
Why Norway? Because nobody suspects Norway.
Red Flags Hidden in Plain Sight
For compliance teams, Fishrot provides a textbook of warning signs that were missed:
🚩 The Circular Money Trail
Track this: Namibia → Cyprus → Dubai → Namibia. When money completes a circle, it's rarely for legitimate reasons.
🚩 The Ghost Companies
Companies in Mauritius generating millions in "fees" with:
No physical address beyond a P.O. box
No employees on payroll
Revenue that precisely matched outgoing "costs" from Namibia
🚩 The Political Connection Web
The Dubai shell company receiving millions was owned by someone who was simultaneously:
Chairman of the state fishing company (distributing quotas)
Board member of recipient companies (receiving quotas)
Son-in-law of the Minister (approving quotas)
🚩 The Pricing Anomalies
When a Namibian company sells fish to its "independent" Cyprus buyer at 30% below market price, that's not bad business—it's profit shifting.
Why Traditional Compliance Failed
The Fishrot scandal exposed fundamental weaknesses in how we approach financial crime:
Jurisdiction Blindness: Each country saw only its piece. Nobody saw the full picture.
Paper Legitimacy: Fake invoices and contracts looked real enough to pass basic checks
PEP Screening Gaps: Systems caught politicians but missed their relatives and associates
Banking Compartmentalization: Even when warned, banks treated each transaction in isolation
Lessons for Emerging Markets
For Financial Institutions
Every invoice for "consulting" from a tax haven deserves scrutiny. Every transaction to a shell company needs investigation. Every PEP's extended network requires monitoring.
For Regulators
Money laundering is a team sport played across borders. If you're only watching your own goal, you've already lost.
For Businesses
If your partner's corporate structure looks like a spider web, there's usually a spider at the center. Ask why. Then ask again.
The Human Cost Behind the Numbers
While $650 million flowed through shadow networks:
Thousands of Namibian fishing workers lost their jobs when quotas were corruptly allocated
Communities dependent on fishing revenue watched their futures sail away
Tax revenue that could have built schools and hospitals vanished into offshore accounts
A nation's trust in its institutions crumbled
The money is gone. The damage remains.
From the Freezer to the Frontline
Fishrot may be a story about frozen fish, but it's also a story about frozen justice. Six years after the scandal broke, the main trial hasn't started. The accused remain in custody. The victims still wait.
But here's what's changed: the playbook is now public. The methods are exposed. The red flags are mapped.
With better compliance tools—and the courage to use them—schemes like Fishrot become harder to hide. That's not just about catching criminals. It's about protecting the resources that communities depend on.
That's why we built Anqa. Because in emerging markets, compliance isn't a nice-to-have. It's the difference between development and plunder.
Ready to strengthen your compliance defences? Anqa makes enterprise-grade compliance accessible for institutions of all sizes across Africa and Asia. Because the best time to catch financial crime is before it costs billions.
Get in touch to learn how we can help protect your institution and community.