Once a year, the COP presidency or the role held by the Minister of Environment from the host government at a Conference of the Parties (COP) meeting, sets out on an ambitious, year-long journey in hopes of delivering the climate deal of a lifetime.
In the packed conference hall of the Heritage Hotel, the sound of Pacific voices filled the air—not just through speeches, but in song, rhythm, and poetry. The Dreamcast Theatre Performing Arts group opened the Second Pacific Island Ocean Conference with an evocative performance, reminding leaders and practitioners why they had gathered: to listen. To listen to science. To listen to communities. To listen to the ocean itself.
The dust was already swirling when Asherly William Hogo lifted himself from a makeshift bed before dawn. The 62-year-old pastoralist, lean from a lifetime of walking these plains, slipped into his sandals and stepped outside. Stars glittered over Dodoma, but the air was warmer than it used to be, Hogo swears. He whistled for his cows. Years ago, this hour meant an arduous trek to distant waterholes.
As the
COP30 approaches amid darkening geopolitical clouds—marked by rising rightwing extremism, corporate backtracking and rising militarism—Ali T. Sheikh, Pakistan’s leading expert on sustainable development and climate change, views the world’s largest diplomatic gathering with a mix of apprehension and caution.
The UN General Assembly High-Level Week (22-30 September) has been an opportunity for the world to convene on the most pressing issues of the day, from multilateralism, global financing, gender equality, non-communicable diseases, and AI governance.
At the Second Africa Climate Summit (ACS2) held in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, from 8-10 September, African leaders committed to the climate and health nexus and their desire to advance climate-resilient and adaptive health systems on the continent.
Like so many problems besetting the world, the existential threats facing small island states are all too obvious. Island nations are surrounded by the sea, and they depend on it for their livelihood and for their security. The sheer power of the sea can never be tamed but islanders have learnt to work with it and in doing so, there has always been a productive balance. But this balance, however, has been cast aside - the relationship has broken down. Our mighty ocean is in poor shape.
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.