Black & Brown Women Are The Driving Force Of This 800-People Island — & It’s Thriving

With a population of just 800, Little Corn Island is a hidden gem in the Caribbean, and it holds an inspiring secret: Women keep it going. Hailing from diverse backgrounds and spanning different generations, these women are pioneering entrepreneurs who, through community initiatives and sheer determination, have transformed Little Corn Island into a model of sustainable, women-and-family-led tourism and way of life. 

Little Corn Island has a long history that begins with the Kutra, native people who were wiped out by Indigenous Miskitos of the Nicaraguan mainland. Around 1700, British and Scottish colonizers established plantations with the labor of enslaved Afro-Indigenous people from Jamaica. After nearly 200 years of British rule, the islands formally became part of Nicaragua in 1894. After Hurricane Joan in 1988, the Corn Islands faced a period of rebuilding and economic diversification beyond the coconut and lobster industries that had sustained them. As part of the Corn Island archipelago, Little Corn Island has had a local delegate who represents the municipal government since 1997, a change from the past where a mayor was elected through a community-assembly led by church leaders, business owners, and notable elderly figures. This hasn’t been the only change at Little Corn Island, though. Recognizing tourism's potential, it became a paradisiacal destination, attracting visitors worldwide.

Born and raised in Little Corn Island, 52-year-old Marisa Moreno has seen the impact of tourism firsthand. “When I grew up, everything was different. It was just a few of us girls, only local people. Now, a lot of foreigners drift here,” Moreno says. 

She invites some of these travelers into her home for traditional rondón cooking classes. “I make money and I live off tourism,” Moreno says. “Home is not for you alone. Everyone is welcome as long as they know how to live in our home.”

Moreno wakes up every morning and, after attending to her pig, cat, and dog, cooks breakfast for her neighbors with the ingredients they give her. This tranquil and collaborative lifestyle inspired Maura Chavez to move from mainland Nicaragua to the island, where she’s raising her three children.

“When I first visited, I noticed locals were not rushing through life; they were relaxed and that caught my attention,” Chavez says, recalling an elderly man walking barefoot. 

To her, the islanders' lifestyle was a refreshing return to basics, a reminder of the importance of living in harmony with nature. "It’s uncomfortable to walk with shoes here. We don’t use them around the island because they’d get muddy. The best car is our feet; our best wheels are the soles of our feet,” Chavez says about the car-free island. “And this connection to the earth is a vital part of our identity, passed down from our ancestors.” 

Chavez is among the 10 eco-volunteers keeping the island afloat through beach cleanups, which has helped her forge relationships with her neighbors. This closeness to the community enabled her to conduct extensive research over three months in the Atlantic region. Focused on uncovering the Afro-Indigenous roots of the island’s culture, she delved into traditional dance, language, clothing, and food.

She wanted to celebrate and make a difference with her newfound knowledge, so she took her findings to Yemaya Reefs, a hotel that supports more than 50 families and serves as a cornerstone of the island's economy with 95% of its gross domestic product dependent on the property, to ensure everyone knew about the island’s Afro-Indigenous heritage. Chavez successfully introduced various initiatives, like incorporating traditional spices into dishes like banana en gloria and machaca, integrating medicinal elements into the turndown tea service, commissioning local artist Melgar to paint art highlighting Black women, and organizing Garifuna dance nights. Her efforts have converted the hotel into a cultural hotspot that educates and entertains visitors and locals alike. 

“What we did was rescue the culture that is part of us but that was not being highlighted, in general, on this island,” Chavez says. “Our goal is to preserve and promote the island’s cultural identity, which had previously been overlooked so our Afro-indigenous culture is not lost.”

Chavez and Moreno represent a significant shift from the traditional roles women on the island took on in the past. Before, they primarily engaged in household chores and coconut-related activities. Now, matriarchal families are leading the majority of businesses on the island. 

At just 20, Karina Blandon is a powerhouse in a male-dominated industry as she runs her family's dive shop, Las Palmeras. Globally, approximately 35% of Professional Association of Diving Instructor-certified divers are women, but just 20% of PADI divemasters are women. Her dive shop is more than just a business; it's taking ownership of an industry often threatened by foreign interests.

"I like tourism because you get to know a lot of people and it opens the door for others to have their own business," Blandon says. "But some tourists come here and make businesses, own land and houses, and that takes away islanders' opportunities to create their own." 

This sentiment underscores the delicate balance between welcoming tourism and protecting local resources. 

While tourism can sometimes bring about cultural erosion and environmental harm, Little Corn Island is a beacon of hope as it demonstrates how locals, particularly women committed to their community’s well-being, can harness tourism as a force for good. They champion local ownership, guaranteeing the benefits of tourism flow directly to the island's residents, all while protecting local resources. 

But Little Corn Island, with its picturesque landscapes and serene beaches, is much more than a tourist destination.

“We don’t realize what life is on our day-to-day until we experience it from the origin — getting water from a well, learning from a fisherman to catch your own fish and cook it, grabbing fruits from a tree,” Chavez says. “It sounds very romantic to walk and gather what you need directly from its origin, but that’s how we live here.”If there’s one thing that unites Karina, Maura, and Marisa, it’s their joint vision. They all want recognition for Little Corn Island and their way of living. But more so, they want their stories to serve as a powerful reminder of the impact empowered women can have on their immediate families, communities, and beyond.

If there’s one thing that unites Karina, Maura, and Marisa, it’s their joint vision. They all want recognition for Little Corn Island and their way of living. But more so, they want their stories to serve as a powerful reminder of the impact empowered women can have on their immediate families, communities, and beyond.