The room at the Swiss Inn Nexus Hotel in Bole was silent but tense as Sunita Narain, one of the world’s most influential environmental voices, fixed her gaze on rows of African journalists, scientists, and policymakers. Her tone was gentle, but the words cut deep.
As climate-induced disasters continue to devastate the Global South, nations are steadily mounting pressure at the United Nations for wealthier countries to deliver on long-promised climate reparations through the Loss and Damage Fund. For Indigenous peoples, whose territories are often the most ecologically intact yet most damaged by climate change, these negotiations define survival, sovereignty and recognition as rights-holders in global climate governance.
African climate negotiators and civil society organizations at the second Africa Climate Summit (ACS 2) have called on governments to include sustainable farming approaches and other Africa-led solutions in their revised Nationally Determined Contributions (NDC) and National Adaptation Plans (NAP) ahead of COP 30, as the only way to have their priorities on the global climate negotiation agenda.
As climate shocks intensify across East Africa, from failed rains in Kenya’s arid north to devastating floods in Tanzania’s coastal belt, the region’s banks are emerging as unlikely but powerful players in the resilience race.
The relentless rain that battered the mountains and valleys of Jammu and Kashmir this August shattered lives and records.
On August 7, a tar-like slurry glistened on the roads leading up to the gate of the Palais Des Nations in Geneva, Switzerland. For fear of sticky substances sticking to tires, no vehicles were allowed to go inside for a while, forcing officials arriving from different parts of the world to disembark and walk through a side entrance.
My family lost six herds of cattle during the devastating El Niño-driven drought that swept Zimbabwe in 2024. The loss was as emotional as it was financial. Guilt gnawed at me.
Legal minds in international law are trying to interpret the scope and impact of the landmark advisory opinion on climate change by the International Court of Justice (ICJ), where it said that states have a duty to
prevent significant harm to the environment.
The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) stands on the precipice of a profound environmental and social crisis, as the government prepares to auction 55 new oil blocks that cover more than half the country’s landmass.
The case was “unlike any that have previously come before the court,” President of the International Court of Justice Judge Yuji Iwasawa said while reading the court's unanimous advisory opinion outlining the legal obligations of United Nations member states with regard to climate change.
While droughts creep in stealthily, their impacts are often more devastating and far-reaching than any other disaster. Inter-community conflict, extremist violence, and violence and injustice against vulnerable girls and women happen at the intersection of climate-induced droughts and drought-impoverished communities.
As Deviben Dhaundhaliya, 45, a streetside seller of artificial jewelry, waits for her husband Devabhai to arrive and help her shift their iron-frame mobile ‘shop’ to the Bhadra Fort open-air marketplace in Ahmedabad city, she tells of how “as heat increased, my wares started melting under the direct exposure to the sun, or they got discolored.”
In recent years, there has been growing evidence of how climate change is impacting human health in several ways.
On the vast plains of Tanzania’s Ngorongoro Conservation Area (NCA), the sight of young Maasai men in bright shawls, wielding sticks as they herd cattle, has long symbolized peaceful coexistence with nature. These herders, moving in harmony with zebras and wildebeests, are inseparable from the landscape. But today, that very identity—nurtured for generations—is under siege.
The third United Nations Ocean Conference (UNOC3) concluded today in Nice with an urgent call for governments to translate bold words into concrete action to protect the world’s oceans. Co-hosted by France and Costa Rica, the summit brought together more than 15,000 participants, including 50 heads of state and government, civil society leaders, scientists, youth, and Indigenous communities in an 11-day event hailed as both a milestone for ocean diplomacy and a test of global resolve.
As the curtains draw on the UN Ocean Conference, a flurry of voluntary commitments and political declarations has injected fresh impetus into global efforts to conserve marine biodiversity. With the world’s oceans facing unprecedented threats, high-level biodiversity officials and negotiators are sounding the alarm and calling for renewed momentum—and funding—to deliver on long-standing promises.
The 2025 UN Ocean Conference (UNOC3) has seen a significant presence from Indigenous peoples, who insist that their perspective and guidance be taken into account in the global efforts for sustainable ocean use and conservation. The sense of responsibility to the ocean and recognition of its history is an example that the international community can learn from.
Prime Minister of Tuvalu, Feleti Teo, describes himself as an optimist—despite the existential crisis his atoll nation faces with climate change-induced sea level rise and frustration with existing international financial mechanisms to fund adaptation and mitigation.
To the outside world, a sea level rise of 34 cm (or slightly longer than a child’s ruler) may not seem dramatic, but it’s an existential threat to the Pacific island state of Vanuatu.
“There is no climate action without ocean action,” President Hilda Heine of the Marshall Islands told reporters, as she and other representatives of Pacific island states reiterated that countries must honor their climate action agreements.
While the island states in the Pacific may be modest, the ocean that surrounds them represents a huge oceanic state—an area equivalent to the entire European Continent.