Climate change is no longer a distant threat. Across the Pacific, it is a daily reality reshaping coastlines, livelihoods, and the delicate balance between people and the environment. But in a region long defined by resilience, solutions are not being invented from scratch. They are being remembered, strengthened, and scaled.
A rising cycle of poverty and extreme weather threatens many towns and cities, especially those situated on coastlines, in the Pacific Islands. Urban centres in the Pacific have grown at an unprecedented rate this century, rapidly straining national resources for urban planning. But governments are now making progress on improving people’s lives in the informal settlements that dominate the urban sprawl in some of the region’s largest cities.
By 9 a.m. on a Wednesday, Hawa Hussein Farah is already watching the temperature climb. Awake since 6 a.m., she has prepared her three children for school before walking them to class and heading to Suuq Mugdi, an open-air market in Garissa town, to buy the fruit she will sell.
The Pacific Island countries are at the frontline of climate change. Their territories mostly consist of small, low-lying islands, with long coastlines and vast ocean spaces between them. Many livelihoods are based on agriculture or fishing, and importing water or food is often infeasible or expensive. This makes those large ocean nations highly vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, such as storms, droughts, and rising sea levels.
Analysts have expressed concerns that this can result in various forms of socio-political conflict.
When the rain begins in Kashmir's capital Srinagar, Ghulam Nabi Bhat does not watch the clouds with relief anymore. He watches them with calculation. How much can the gutters take? How fast will the river rise? Which corner of the house will leak first? Where should the children sleep if the floor turns damp?
The world is entering a decisive period for the future of the ocean. With the High Seas Treaty coming into force and meaningful progress being made on the World Trade Organization Agreement on Fisheries Subsidies, global momentum for stronger marine governance is building. Yet, new pressures linked to the push for deep-sea mining — the extraction of minerals from seabed thousands of meters below the ocean surface — threaten to undermine these gains. To safeguard progress, global decision-making will have to keep pace with such emerging risks. In this context, Africa will host several global discussions in 2026, including those that will shape the ocean's future, with a series of opportunities for leadership starting with the African Union Summit in February to the Our Ocean Conference in Mombasa, Kenya in June.
On January 27, the United States officially withdrew from the Paris Agreement, an international treaty adopted in 2015 aiming to reduce global warming and strengthen countries’ resilience to climate impacts. Following a year of regulatory rollbacks and sustained efforts by the Trump administration to dismantle federal climate policy, this move is expected to trigger wide ranging ripple effects—undermining international efforts to curb climate change, accelerating environmental degradation and biodiversity loss, and increasing risks to human health, safety, and long-term development.
President Donald Trump has escalated efforts to further distance the United States from international organizations and entities focused on climate, the environment, and energy. This strategy is in step with his administration’s established approach to undermine and redirect funds and international cooperation away from climate and clean energy programs.
As they ate catered meals, COP30 negotiators had no appetite for fixing broken food systems, a major source of climate pollution, experts warn.
Food systems are the complete journey food takes—from the farm to fork—which means its growing, processing, distribution, trade and consumption and even the waste.
Opinions have been divided over the annual UN climate conferences. While some see COP30 in Belém, Brazil, as confirming their irrelevance, others see it as a turning point in the struggle for climate justice.
Our traditional “year-ender” usually kicks off with a grim litany of world disasters and crises over the past 12 months, highlights IPS partners and contributors and culminates in a more positive-sounding finale. This time I’d like to begin on a more personal note intended also as a metaphor.
On the Pacific Islands, where the ocean horizon is both a lifeline and a warning, communities have long interpreted environmental change through traditional knowledge, lived experiences, stories, and practice. Their observations echo those across the Pacific region, where traditional knowledge remains central to understanding shifting environments and responsible stewardship.
A global crackdown on civic freedoms is intensifying – and women are on the frontlines of the attack. CIVICUS’s 2025
People Power Under Attack report analyses the extent to which freedoms of association, expression and peaceful assembly are being respected or violated. The report reveals that people in 83 countries now live in conditions where their freedoms are routinely denied, compared to 67 in 2020. In 2020, 13 per cent of the world’s population lived in countries where civic freedoms were broadly respected; now it’s more like 7 per cent. Among the most documented violations in 2025 were detention of human rights defenders, journalists and protesters, and women human rights defenders (WHRDs) were among the most affected.
By any comparison, the statistics for Sindh People's Housing for Flood Affectees (SPHF) are phenomenal.
In 2022, photographs from the region showed people treading carefully through waist-deep water with their few belongings grasped firmly above their heads in an attempt to escape the flooding caused by 784 percent more than average monsoon rains.
At dawn in the mangrove-choked Rufiji estuary, paddles from wooden canoes slice through still waters as a soft voice drifts across the tide.
A dried karam tree branch stands on the bank of a pond in a field in Datinakhali village adjacent to the Sundarbans. Despite many efforts, the tree could not be saved.
Caribbean small island states say this year’s UN climate conference has once again failed to deliver the urgency and ambition needed to tackle escalating climate devastation across the region. From slow-moving climate finance to frustrating political gridlock, leaders say COP30 did not reflect the realities that small islands are living through every day.
The UN climate talks at COP30 once again brought the critical issue of climate finance to the forefront of global discussions.
However, while much of the debate revolved around traditional forms of aid directed at developing countries most vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, a faster, more
transformative approach lies in expanding access to carbon markets.
COP30 in Belém is not just another annual climate meeting; it is the 32-year report card of the world governance architecture that was conceived at the Rio Earth Summit of 1992. And that is what report card says: delivery has been sporadic, cosmetic and perilously disconnected with the physics of climatic breakdown.
As observers at the Conference of Parties closely monitored proceedings in Belém, many, such as Yamide Dagnet, approached the UN Climate Summit as an implementation COP. They are advocating for tangible signals to ignite crucial climate action before the climate crisis reaches irreversible levels.
Following tense, nightlong negotiations and bitter rows between more than 190 country delegations, a “politically charged Belém package" was finally forged at COP30—so named because of the highly contentious and difficult-to-negotiate issues within the climate talks.