As 52-year-old Alice Onyango walks through her farm in Siaya county, Kenya, you can tell she is proud of her trees, as some tower over her, providing her with shade, while others seem ready to provide her with fruit for the market.
On Brazil’s northeastern coast, the Indigenous community, Tremembé da Barra do Mundaú, lives on a preserved stretch of land shaped by mangroves, dunes, and deserted beaches. The group of around 160 families is led by women and depends on the 3,500-hectare territory for fishing and subsistence farming.
Sharp surges in energy, fertilizer, and food prices triggered by the ongoing conflict in the Persian Gulf strikingly illustrate the deep interconnections between geopolitical conflict, food insecurity, and the fragility of fossil fuel–dependent food systems.
As governments prepare for the Eighth Assembly of the Global Environment Facility (GEF) – scheduled to be held from May 30 to June 6 in Samarkand, Uzbekistan – the stakes are unusually high.
Under the warm waters off Tanzania’s Mafia Island, marine scientist Asha Mgeni hovers above a coral reef she has studied for years. Small fish dart through the currents. To most divers, the reef appears pristine. But Mgeni notices something unusual.
For decades, pesticides have been a quiet pillar of Malawi’s agriculture, guarding crops against pests, improving yields, and sustaining millions of livelihoods. But beneath this success story lay a troubling reality: weak regulation, unsafe handling practices, and growing threats to human health and the environment.
A newly published
review in Nature Reviews Earth & Environment has revealed disturbing statistics on the growing environmental threats posed by global food production. The global food system, designed to feed and nourish humanity, is now a major contributor to
climate change via
greenhouse gas emissions, and the largest driver of
freshwater depletion,
biodiversity loss, and
nutrient pollution.
It is an invisible contaminant that has been found in fisheries, an essential part of the food chain for many Pacific Islanders. Mercury, emitted from fossil fuel power generation and other industrial processes around the world, has now penetrated marine ecosystems in the Pacific Islands with detrimental consequences for people’s health and wellbeing.
As the world prepares for the Global Environment Facility (GEF) meeting in Samarkand next month, Seychelles’ pioneering blue bond offers a compelling lesson in practical ocean finance.
The gap between global environmental ambition and real-world progress is widening, with less than five years left to meet key climate and biodiversity targets.
At dawn, as the sun rises across the Indian Ocean, Venance Shayo perches on the edge of his boat, hauling in a net. The sea gently ripples under the breeze and the sound of revving engines.
Every winter thousands of sea turtles come ashore at Cox’s Bazar, in the Bay of Bengal, Bangladesh, to lay eggs.
The Global Environment Facility, widely known as the GEF, plays a central role in financing environmental protection across the world. It supports developing countries in tackling climate change, biodiversity loss, land degradation, pollution, and threats to ecosystems.
With just four years left to meet a series of global environmental targets, governments are committing to shore up one of the world’s main environmental funds, the Global Environment Facility (GEF), with a $3.9 billion pledge.
We live in a century of extraordinary achievement.
Humanity has split the atom, mapped the genome, and sent astronauts to the Moon, with plans now underway to reach Mars. Our knowledge has expanded, our tools have become more powerful, and our capacity to shape the world around us exceeds anything previous generations could have imagined. We communicate instantaneously across continents, diagnose diseases earlier, monitor climate patterns in real time, and design artificial intelligences that can aid in everything from medicine to climate modelling.
They call this land Bushiangala. Gold has been mined here for nearly a century. In 1931, colonial prospectors arrived after traces were found in the nearby Yala River, setting off a rush that changed this quiet corner of western Kenya.
For the past few weeks, residents living in and around Dal Lake in Indian Kashmir have witnessed “a different phenomenon” as a green sludge has accumulated on the once pristine water. Photos circulating widely on social media triggered a public outcry.
By the time the auction begins at Nangurukuru fish market in Tanzania’s southern Lindi region, the crisis is already visible. Wooden canoes that once returned from the Rufiji River with heavy catches now bring only a fraction of what they used to. Traders scan for the long-whiskered catfish that once defined the market but find none.
When the 11th Our Ocean Conference opens in Mombasa and Kilifi, Kenya, from June 16-18, 2026, it will mark the first time this influential meeting has been held on African soil. For coastal and island nations across the continent and the wider Indian Ocean – and for the Global South more broadly – the stakes could not be higher: the promises and commitments made there will help decide whether the ocean becomes a source of justice and resilience, or deepens existing inequalities.
Sudhi Kumar animatedly moves his hands, resembling a graceful dance performance, as he demonstrates how a fishing harpoon is used. He has been on a brief hiatus from harpooning, owing to the recent rough nature of the sea, and doesn’t have the tool with him as we speak. But more than three decades of experience using harpoons is apparent in how vividly he uses his body to mimic the process.
At dawn, the Ruvuma River moves quietly through a vast wetland along the border between Tanzania and Mozambique. Its muddy waters appear calm, disturbed only by drifting logs and the occasional ripple.