The ban hinders journalists’ access to information and particularly affects female journalists, who fear it will further undermine their employment prospects. Credit: Learning Together.

By External Source
KABUL, Oct 8 2026 (IPS)

It has become difficult for Afghan journalists to obtain information from the authorities, who are permitted to use smartphones only with special authorization. This ban particularly affects women, for whom face-to-face interviews are not an option.

The work of Hadia (name changed), a journalist at a Kabul-based radio station, has become significantly more difficult since the Taliban administration banned the use of smartphones within the Afghan government in June.

Many of Hadia’s stories remain incomplete because she can no longer obtain information from officials via phone as she used to.

"If female journalists are cut off from information, why would they even remain in the media? Furthermore, no entity in Afghanistan holds the Taliban accountable if it fails to answer questions from journalists or citizens"

“Landlines don’t offer the same capabilities as WhatsApp, and gathering information takes a lot of time. Most Taliban officials used to answer our questions via mobile apps. Where do we get our information now?” Hadia wonders.

Under the new rules, using a smartphone requires special permission, and officials who defy the ban risk having their phones confiscated and destroyed.

The ban hinders journalists’ access to information and particularly affects female journalists, who fear that the smartphone ban will further undermine their employment prospects.

Previously, even if officials did not wish to meet in person, they would still send information, photos, and audio files via WhatsApp or other smartphone apps. Now, that channel is closed.

The impact of the new smartphone ban is particularly significant outside the capital, where digital services have been crucial for accessing information.

“There have already been problems with several authorities. For instance, internet connections at the Herat police department and other offices are down because it is no longer possible to share a network connection from smartphones. Staff at some agencies said they could only answer questions after working hours because WhatsApp use was prohibited at the workplace,” says Nasrin (name changed), who works at a television station in the city of Herat in western Afghanistan.

According to Nasrin, the ban on smartphones in government offices reduces the number and influence of female journalists in Afghanistan’s media landscape.

The situation for female journalists in Afghanistan had already deteriorated following the Taliban’s return to power in 2021. They can no longer attend press conferences as they once did, and communication with authorities is restricted.

Officials increasingly refuse to grant face-to-face interviews to female journalists unless they are accompanied by a close male relative. At the same time, women have been gradually removed from the civil service, meaning they are no longer available for interviews either.

The number of female journalists has also plummeted. According to the Canadian organization Free Speech Centre, there were approximately 2,000 female journalists in Afghanistan before the Taliban took power; now, there are fewer than 200.

Officials increasingly refuse to grant face-to-face interviews to female journalists unless they are accompanied by a close male relative. Credit: Learning Together.

The independent journalists’ organization Afghanistan Journalists Center (AFCJ) has warned about the impact of the ban. According to the organization, it hinders journalists’ access to information and undermines press freedom. The organization suspects that this is an attempt by the Taliban to tighten control over communication and impede the operations of independent media.

Media executives are also concerned about the ban’s impact on access to information.

Taliban spokesperson Zabihullah Mujahid has sought to reassure the media, stating that the ban has not yet been confirmed and is still under discussion.

However, Hijran (name changed), a TV journalist working in Kunduz province in northern Afghanistan, is concerned.

“We will face real problems if the ban remains in effect. Sometimes we have to produce two or three news reports a day, which is feasible if we receive information via WhatsApp. Now, getting answers and arranging interviews can take several days.”

For this story, female journalists across Afghanistan were interviewed, and they all faced the same problems. Almost everywhere, female journalists have only been able to communicate with Taliban officials via smartphone apps.

Asma (name changed), a news manager at a radio station in Kabul, points out that everyone has the right to access information.

“If female journalists are cut off from information, why would they even remain in the media? Furthermore, no entity in Afghanistan holds the Taliban accountable if it fails to answer questions from journalists or citizens.”

Excerpt:

A community health worker examines a pregnant woman inside her home while family members look on, highlighting the growing challenges mothers face as extreme heat and climate-related pressures strain access to healthcare in vulnerable communities. Credit: Wellcome

By Umar Manzoor Shah
SUVA, Fiji & SRINAGAR, India, Oct 5 2026 (IPS)

Extreme heat is increasingly threatening pregnant women and newborn babies around the world, with almost all maternal health professionals surveyed across five continents saying they have cared for women or infants whose health was affected by high temperatures.

The findings, released as climate ministers gathered in the Pacific ahead of the COP31 climate summit, provide an extremely distressing picture of how global heating is affecting maternity wards, delivery rooms and newborn-care units.

A survey of 1,001 healthcare professionals in Australia, Brazil, India, the United Kingdom and Zimbabwe found that 98 percent had personally cared for a pregnant woman whose health they believed was adversely affected by extreme heat.

Some 99 percent said they had cared for a foetus or newborn whose health, in their professional judgment, had been affected by extreme heat.

Almost three-quarters, 73%, said heat-related cases or complications affecting pregnant women had increased over the previous five years. The proportion rose to 76% when health workers were asked about complications involving foetal health, childbirth or newborn babies.

The survey was commissioned by the global health foundation Wellcome and conducted among obstetricians, gynaecologists, doctors, midwives, nurses and other maternal-health professionals between September 17 and October 1.

The findings were released in Fiji at the launch of Birthright, a global campaign seeking greater protection for pregnant women, babies and healthcare workers as temperatures rise.

Speaking at the event, United Nations Climate Change Executive Secretary Simon Stiell said climate change was creating a new and potentially deadly risk around pregnancy and childbirth.

“The picture is clear and very disturbing: as extreme heat worsens, pregnancy and birth are now a new faultline in the global climate crisis, and one which is potentially fatal,” Stiell said.

“This faultline must not become another deep chasm of climate-driven suffering, inequality and injustice.”

The survey offers detailed evidence of what healthcare professionals say they are already witnessing.

Among pregnant women,

• 25% reported seeing muscle cramps or muscle aches that they believed extreme heat had contributed to or worsened
• 24% reported severe fatigue, sleep problems or a reduced ability among pregnant women to carry out daily activities
• 23% reported breathing difficulties or worsening respiratory symptoms
• 23 percent reported pregnancy complications requiring additional monitoring or treatment, while an equal proportion reported hypertensive disorders, including pre-eclampsia
• More than one in five reported mental distress, anxiety or stress linked to heat
• 21% said they had encountered severe maternal illness requiring medical attention or hospital care
• 20% reported dizziness, fainting or loss of consciousness, while 19 percent reported preterm contractions, labour or birth
• Nearly 18% said they had observed pregnancy loss or stillbirth in circumstances where, in their professional judgment, extreme heat had contributed to or worsened the problem.

The survey did not attempt to establish that heat alone caused individual complications. The responses provide information about the professional judgment and clinical experience of the healthcare workers questioned.

Protect Life at Its Most Fragile

The findings involving babies were similarly worrying.

• 36% of health professionals reported dehydration or heat-related illness among newborns during the pregnancy-related care they provided
• 34% reported low birth weight or restricted foetal growth
• 33% had observed breathing, feeding or temperature-regulation difficulties
• 28% said babies required additional monitoring, treatment or neonatal care, and a similar proportion reported preterm birth
• During the newborn period, 38% of respondents reported low birth weight or restricted growth
• 36% reported dehydration or heat-related illness, and another 36% reported breathing, feeding or problems regulating body temperature
• Almost 30% said heat-related conditions resulted in babies needing additional monitoring, treatment or neonatal care
• 9% percent reported stillbirth or neonatal death during the newborn period in cases where they believed extreme heat had contributed to or worsened the condition.

Stiell said the findings showed that rising temperatures could no longer be treated simply as an environmental issue.

“The climate policy process is measured in degrees, targets and finance,” he said. “But a deep test of climate action is far simpler: whether we protect life at its most fragile.”

He said the world was entering conditions for which many health systems had not been designed.

“We are in a new, hotter world, as the world continues to burn planet-heating fossil fuels, overwhelmingly in G20 economies,” Stiell said.

“The last eleven years smashed records.”

He said rising temperatures meant “rising danger in pregnancy”, citing evidence linking extreme heat to premature birth, stillbirth, low birth weight and maternal complications.

A healthcare worker cradles a newborn baby at a maternal health facility, illustrating frontline efforts to protect mothers and infants amid mounting concerns over the impact of extreme heat on pregnancy, childbirth and newborn health. Credit: Wellcome

No One Is Immune

The survey also revealed significant differences between countries.

Zimbabwean health workers were among those reporting the sharpest increases.

Eighty-five percent of respondents in Zimbabwe said heat-related cases or complications affecting pregnant women had increased during the previous five years. The figure was 79% in Australia, 74% in Brazil, 66% in the United Kingdom and 62% in India.

When respondents were asked about foetal or newborn health, 89% of Zimbabwean health professionals reported an increase in heat-related cases or complications. The corresponding figure was 79% in Brazil, 78% in Australia, 68% in the United Kingdom and 66% in India.

The results suggest that the effects are being felt across countries with very different climates, incomes and healthcare systems.

Concern was also widespread.

More than 92% of all respondents said they were concerned about the impact of extreme heat on the health and well-being of pregnant women in the areas where they worked and 90% expressed concern about foetal health during pregnancy and childbirth, as well as the health of babies during the newborn period.

Zimbabwe recorded some of the highest levels of concern, with 97% of respondents concerned about foetal and newborn health.

Stiell said no country or family could consider itself completely insulated from the risk.

“No one is immune,” he said. “But the risks and impacts are not shared equally.”

The survey showed that extreme heat was also disrupting the healthcare systems expected to protect women and infants.

• 29% of health workers said they had seen increased urgent or emergency presentations during extreme heat
• 28% reported difficulties safely storing or using medicines, supplies or medical equipment
• 27% said pregnant women and their families found it harder to travel to or access healthcare
• 25% reported increased demand for advice, monitoring or treatment, while another quarter reported staff illness, fatigue or a reduced ability to work safely
• 24% had experienced interruptions to electricity, water, cooling systems, medical equipment or other essential services
• A similar proportion reported healthcare services becoming overburdened or having insufficient capacity
• Nearly one-quarter said temperatures inside healthcare facilities had become unsafe or uncomfortable.

The findings highlight a basic problem in responding to extreme heat. Advising pregnant women to stay cool may be of little practical value when families lack air conditioning, cannot afford electricity, work outside, or live far from medical services.

“‘Staying cool’ is simply not an option when there is no cool place to go,” Stiell said.

“A safe birth is already too often shaped by geography, income and access to care. Without action, extreme heat will widen that injustice.”

The survey asked health professionals what most limited pregnant women’s ability to protect themselves and their babies.

• 26% cited limited awareness or understanding that extreme heat could affect health during pregnancy
• 24% cited the need to work outdoors or in hot conditions
• About 23% pointed to limited support from family or the wider community
• The same proportion cited limited access to cooling or air conditioning
• 23% identified the cost of electricity, water or other protective measures.

Other barriers included existing health conditions, inadequate access to safe drinking water, homes that were difficult to keep cool, lack of employer support and difficulties travelling to healthcare facilities.

Only 0.4 percent said no factors limited women’s ability to protect themselves from extreme heat.

Stiell said such conditions meant that climate change risk was increasingly intertwined with inequality.

“Someone working outdoors, living in unregulated housing, travelling far to a clinic, or relying on facilities without water, power or cooling, cannot be protected by advice alone,” he said.

Harm that is not counted is too easily ignored

For Pacific Island countries, the issue is particularly sensitive.

Many small island states have contributed only a tiny fraction of historic greenhouse gas emissions but face rising sea levels, intensifying storms, heat and pressure on food, water and health systems.

“Here in the Pacific, climate change is no abstraction,” Stiell said.

“It is felt in homes, villages, farms, fisheries and clinics, in journeys for care, and in the availability and cost of food, water, power and transport.”

The Fiji event was held as ministers and climate officials gathered for the pre-COP meeting hosted by Australia and Fiji from October 5 to 8.

The meeting is intended to advance negotiations ahead of COP31 in Antalya, Türkiye, and give greater prominence to Pacific Island perspectives and climate solutions. Tuvalu was hosting a leaders’ event as part of the Pacific meetings.

Despite the growing risks, the survey suggests many healthcare workers believe they need more support to respond effectively.

• An overwhelming 92% said they wanted additional training and resources to help pregnant women during periods of extreme heat.
• 55% said clearer national or international guidance on protecting pregnant women from extreme heat would help them perform their jobs better
• When asked what would most improve their ability to protect women and babies, 33% selected practical information and materials for pregnant women and families
• 31% called for improvements to buildings, cooling, ventilation, water or electricity
• 29% wanted stronger referral pathways and better coordination between health services
• A similar proportion called for improved data and surveillance on heat, pregnancy and newborn health, as well as better local heat alerts and communication
• 28% said more staff, time or funding during periods of extreme heat would help
• 28% called for greater community outreach to people who may otherwise be difficult for health services to reach.

Stiell urged governments to make maternal and newborn health an explicit part of national climate adaptation and heat-response strategies.

“What is not named in a plan is too often not funded, not measured and not protected,” he said.

He outlined three priorities.

The first was to make pregnancy and newborn care part of national adaptation, health and extreme-heat planning.

That would require resilient clinics, dependable electricity and water supplies and properly trained health workers.

The second was to convert scientific evidence into direct protection, including improved guidance, professional training, heat alerts, safer medical facilities and health systems prepared before extreme weather strikes.

The third was better monitoring.

“Harm that is not counted is too easily ignored,” Stiell said.

“As temperatures rise, data must show where risks are growing, which interventions work, which communities are exposed, and where finance and technology support is needed.”

The survey found broad support among health workers for stronger policy action.

• 81% agreed that without further action, extreme heat would increasingly endanger maternal, foetal and newborn health during the next five years
• 82% said protecting pregnant women and babies from extreme heat should become a higher priority for health-system leaders and policymakers
• Another 82% agreed that better evidence on heat, pregnancy and newborn health would help drive effective action.

Stiell linked the issue to broader international climate finance negotiations.

He said commitments on adaptation finance agreed at COP30 in Brazil needed to be implemented and called for governments and the international financial system to help mobilise $1.3 trillion annually for developing nations.

“For small islands and other nations that did practically nothing to cause this climate crisis, it underscores the need for support at scale,” he said.

He also pointed to the Belém Gender Action Plan and Belém Adaptation Indicators as mechanisms that could help governments measure climate-related health risks and build more resilient health services.

Stiell praised Türkiye’s COP31 presidency and Australia, which is serving as President of Negotiations, for putting health on the agenda ahead of the Antalya summit.

For Stiell, the issue ultimately goes beyond climate-negotiating language.

“I am a parent, but I cannot pretend to know what it feels like to carry a pregnancy through those conditions,” he said.

“Mothers, midwives, doctors, nurses and families speak from lived experience. We should listen.”

The survey suggests those voices are already delivering a clear warning.

Pregnant women are struggling with heat exposure. Babies are requiring additional care. Health workers are seeing more complications. Facilities are facing pressure on electricity, water, medicines and staff. And many doctors, nurses and midwives say they lack the training and resources they need.

“Pregnancy should be a time of hope,” Stiell said. “But for millions, it is becoming a time of anxiety, as climate impacts fill everyday life with risk.”

He ended with an appeal for governments to treat protection of mothers and babies as a basic test of climate policy.

“A changing climate must never be accepted as a reason pregnancy and birth become less safe,” he said.

“A newborn’s healthy start must never depend on a family’s ability to escape the heat.”

“This work is urgent, deeply human, and we all share the responsibility to drive it forward together.”

IPS UN Bureau Report

Shehnaz Ali from Rahim Yar Khan, Pakistan, has been living with a fistula for 16 years. Credit: Zofeen T. Ebrahim/IPS

By Zofeen Ebrahim
KARACHI, Pakistan, Oct 2 2026 (IPS)

“You’re living a life drained of joy,” is how Shehnaz Sher Ali describes her “perpetually wet and stinky” existence. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy,” says the 35-year-old, who travelled by bus for more than 12 hours with her husband from their village in Rahim Yar Khan, Punjab, changing diapers whenever possible to keep the smell from reaching the fellow passengers.

For 16 years, she had lived with urine dribbling, unaware that it was treatable with a relatively simple surgical procedure.

She developed an iatrogenic fistula—caused by a surgical injury during a Caesarean section—and is among the estimated two million women living with untreated obstetric fistula worldwide.

Shehnaz got married at the age of 18 and conceived soon after. At full term, her obstetrician suspected a complication for which she underwent a Caesarean section, but the baby was stillborn. The doctor then told the young couple she would not be able to conceive again.

That was not all. She soon realized she was leaking urine.

The doctor assured her it would stop within weeks. It never did, despite three months in hospital trying to repair the leak.

“After spending so much on my operation, being told I could never have children, and then living with the urine leakage, my husband divorced me. I was damaged goods, a liability, and he didn’t want to spend any more money on me.”

She returned to her parents’ home and, a few years later, married Ali, twice her age and already married with three daughters.

“He knew about my condition but married me because he needed someone to care for his paralyzed wife and their three daughters.”

But now, her life is beginning to change.

Fistula Ward at Kooh Goth Hospital, where cats are allowed to roam free. Credit: Zofeen T. Ebrahim/IPS

Center of Hope

She is being treated at the best facility for treatment of fistula—the Koohi Goth Women’s Hospital (KGWH), run by the Zafar and Atia Foundation Charitable Trust (supported by numerous Pakistanis both abroad and within the country), in Karachi’s Landhi neighborhood.

“A relative found out about it a month back, and my husband brought me to it immediately,” she said.

Dr. Shershah Syed, who founded KGWH, was Pakistan’s first gynaecologist and obstetrician to train in genital tract fistula (both rectovaginal and vesicovaginal fistula) repair. He describes these as among the “worst and most devastating childbirth injuries” a woman can endure.

In 1993, Syed trained at Addis Ababa Fistula Hospital under renowned surgeons Dr. Reginald Hamlin and his wife, Dr. Catherine Hamlin, who provided free obstetric fistula repair in Ethiopia. Two years later, as medical superintendent of the government-run Sobhraj Maternity Hospital, he began actively repairing fistulas.

Since KGWH began operations in 2007, it has treated “more than 3,200 women and trained 30 master trainers,” said Dr. Sajjad Ahmed Siddiqui, its fistula project manager.

In 2025, UNFPA’s Asia-Pacific office designated KGWH a Regional Center of Excellence for fistula care after it trained surgeons from Bangladesh, Nepal, and Afghanistan. It was already the national referral and surgical training hub.

“We want to treat 800 women annually while providing psychosocial support, literacy, and skills training to help them reintegrate and become economically empowered,” says Dr. Jameel Ahmed, sexual and reproductive health specialist at UNFPA Pakistan. “But with global funding constraints and rising iatrogenic fistula cases, we are unsure how much reintegration support we can provide.”

KGWH’s work has also extended beyond its walls.

Syed, who is a medical advisor to the Fistula Foundation, organizes free surgical camps with the help of trained surgeons in remote Sindh government hospitals, bringing treatment to women from nearby villages.

In January, he travelled to Kabul with four female surgeons, where they set up a fistula repair camp and provided refresher training to Afghan female surgeons.

“In five days, the women surgeons repaired 20 fistulas,” said Syed. “There is a great need there, but with relations between the two countries at their lowest, it is difficult for us.”

Before the Taliban takeover, 30 to 35 women from remote provinces of Afghanistan would travel to Pakistan each year for treatment. That has now ended.

Today, there are 11 fistula repair centers across Pakistan equipped with 88 trained surgeons, and in the last decade, these centers have treated over 7,800 women for fistula.

Globally, about 50,000–100,000 new cases of vesicovaginal fistula occur each year, with 80% in developing countries, mainly in Asia and Africa, according to UNFPA. “In Pakistan, we estimate that up to 5,000 cases of fistula occur annually; iatrogenic fistula is one type,” explained Ahmed.

Back in 2007, when UNFPA began addressing obstetric fistula caused by obstructed labor in Pakistan through the Pakistan National Forum on Women’s Health, it believed that improved reproductive healthcare and more facility-based births would help reduce the incidence of this devastating condition.

Some Progress, But Not Enough

“To some extent, there have been significant improvements in maternal mortality and morbidity since then,” said Ahmed.

The progress is reflected in World Health Organization figures: Pakistan’s maternal mortality ratio fell from 276 deaths per 100,000 live births in 2006 to 155 in 2024. Neonatal mortality declined from 52 to 37.6 deaths per 1,000 live births over the same period, while the stillbirth rate fell from 39.8 per 1,000 births in 2000 to 27.5 in 2024.

But Syed remains unimpressed. Despite these gains, the toll is still “not acceptable” to him. Every day, 675 babies die before reaching one month of age, and 27 mothers die from preventable complications, amounting to more than 246,300 newborn and 9,800 maternal deaths a year. Pakistan also records more than 190,000 stillbirths annually, WHO figures show.

All these put Pakistan’s achievement of SDG 3—which deals with sexual and reproductive health—at risk.

And there is another worrying development.

As Pakistan made progress in tackling obstetric fistula, another form was emerging—one caused not by obstructed labor but by medical intervention itself. “We observed women developing fistulas following Caesarean sections or hysterectomies in health facilities—iatrogenic,” said Ahmed.

Syed is particularly concerned about this kind. “In most childbirth cases, I find surgical intervention unnecessary. Too often, the decision to intervene is a ‘personal’ one, driven by greed and ‘ease’ rather than ethics.”

“We have irrefutable proof that most of the injuries happen due to surgical error during C-sections, hysterectomies, or repair of ruptured uterus and bladder,” says Siddiqui.

UNFPA has found that a staggering 70% of fistula cases in Pakistan result from surgical injuries. “We tried to plug one hole two decades back, through improved facility-based births, and realized there was a bigger one at hand that happened in facilities that needed to be plugged now,” said Ahmed.

Dr. Pushpa Srichand, 75, has spent more than five decades as a gynaecologist and has treated some 2,200 fistula patients in hospitals, along with countless more at free surgical camps. “It is a disease of the poor; I promised myself I would never charge these women,” she said. Even after retiring from government service and joining Isra University, she made free fistula treatment a condition of her appointment.

A recent seven-year prospective study by Isra University found a 56% rise in iatrogenic fistula among gynaecological patients between 2017 and 2024. Of the 2,190 women treated for obstetric and other gynaecological complications, some 1,358 had iatrogenic fistula.

“This is a huge and extremely concerning number,” said Srichand, sharing her findings at a UNFPA national consultation that brought together regulators, medical bodies, and provincial health officials to discuss the rise in iatrogenic fistula and ways to prevent it.

Earlier research points to a similar pattern. A two-year study at Lady Willingdon Hospital, Lahore, from January 2007 to December 2008, found that 54% (33 of 61) of referred fistula cases were iatrogenic. A 2004 report from the same hospital, by contrast, found that 79% of fistulas were obstetric. The 2008 study concluded that “gynaecological surgery is being performed by untrained hands in the periphery.”

Another study at the Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences (PIMS), Islamabad, covering almost 12 years to June 2018, also found a rising trend in iatrogenic urogenital fistula. It concluded that the trend underscored the need for better safety standards in both obstetric and gynecological surgery.

The same was concluded at the UNFPA consultation, where doctors largely blamed inexperienced and unskilled practitioners.

“They make wrong diagnoses, perform faulty surgeries, and leave patients with lifelong complications,” Syed told IPS on the sidelines of the event.

“A C-section, for instance, is a relatively straightforward procedure,” he pointed out, but in incompetent hands, even this can go terribly wrong. “It requires a very special kind of negligent expertise to get this wrong,” he said sarcastically. He also blamed the superiors for the errors of their juniors. “They never taught their juniors properly, and many C-sections and even normal births are carried out by those without adequate training, resulting in these grave mistakes that women suffer lifelong. The worst part is there is no accountability.”

For women like Shehnaz, such medical errors are not simply complications—they can reshape an entire life.

For years, she saw her suffering as punishment for some inexplicable sin. The treatment, she says, is “Allah telling me that I have finally atoned for it.”

“When I go home, the first thing I will do is cook a large pot of biryani and distribute it among the poor, in gratitude to Allah for giving me a second life,” says Shehnaz, her face beaming after her first successful operation.

Dr. Sana Ashfaque, who carried out an “extremely complicated, four-hour-long surgery” to repair Shehnaz’s holes, is hopeful she has plugged the leak for good. “But we will keep her for another two weeks just to be sure everything is in place; she’s come from far and it may not have been easy for her to come back to us.”

After 16 years of waiting, four hours was a small price to pay for a second life.

Note: This article is brought to you by IPS Noram in collaboration with INPS Japan and Soka Gakkai International in consultative status with ECOSOC.

IPS UN Bureau Report

As wells and other water sources dry up, women and girls in Kabul must travel increasingly long distances to secure enough water for their families. Credit: Learning Together.

By External Source
KABUL, Oct 1 2026 (IPS)

Drought has depleted wells, withered fruit trees, and reduced crop yields across Afghanistan. The heaviest burden of the water shortage falls on women in their daily lives, as they must fetch water from increasingly distant sources and use every single drop with extreme care.

More than half of Afghanistan is suffering from a prolonged drought and water shortage. The situation is critical in 19 provinces. Authorities predict the crisis will worsen. For instance, the capital, Kabul, is projected to lose the majority of its groundwater by 2030. In the northern province of Faryab, 90 percent of the area is already affected by drought.

Drought affects every aspect of her life. She struggles daily to secure enough water for her family’s needs. As an orchardist, she watches helplessly as the trees she has tended for years slowly wither and die while still standing

Water scarcity and poor harvests are further exacerbating Afghanistan’s food crisis. According to the UN World Food Programme, as many as 17.4 million people are in urgent need of food assistance.

Wells, springs, and groundwater sources are drying up. In some households, the water level in wells has dropped from 20 meters to 40 meters. On farmlands, water must now be drawn from depths of up to 120 meters, whereas previously it was accessible at 20 meters. Water is being rationed, and in some areas, farmers receive water for only 20 minutes a day.

When Afghanistan’s wells run dry, women’s workload increases

In Logar province, near Kabul, drought and water shortages have damaged crops and caused fruit trees to wither. Women must walk increasingly long distances to fetch water for their families.

“When our well ran dry, my immediate concern was whether there would be enough drinking water for our children. I only wash clothes if there is drinking water left over. Sometimes I go several days without doing laundry. I also gather the dishes from three meals and wash them all at once to save water,” says 35-year-old Simin Gul (name changed).

The well belonging to her family of nine ran dry four years ago. The nearest water source is less than a half an hour’s walk away.

At times, Simin Gul and her neighbors are forced to buy water. The local piped water network supplies water only two days a week, and even then, only for a few hours at a time.

Families help one another and take turns collecting water in large containers, but even that is not enough for large families.

The wells around Simin Gul’s home have dried up one by one. Women suffer from back pain and other ailments from carrying heavy water containers from distant sources.

Fetching water is particularly difficult during menstruation. Women must fetch water even when they need rest. At times, children have to miss school to help their mothers carry water.

Water scarcity and poor water quality also cause hygiene and health problems for families.

“The tanker trucks have plastic tanks, and the trucks travel from street to street under the scorching sun. Our children have fallen ill from this water several times,” says Simin Gul.

Drought-damaged crops in Logar province, near Kabul, where water shortages have reduced harvests and caused fruit trees to wither. Credit: Learning Together.

Drought deepens water inequality: “The wealthy can dig deeper wells”

Water scarcity has also changed the daily life of 50-year-old Zarmina (name changed). She has lived and worked on her orchard for about 20 years. Her husband is also a farmer.

“This year, about 50 of my apple and apricot trees dried up. I’ve managed to keep the remaining hundred trees barely alive thanks to a spring. But both the yields and the fruit are smaller and of poorer quality.”

“Some farmers pay for irrigation, but we can’t afford it. My husband lost his tomato crop this year because tomatoes need a lot of water,” Zarmina laments.

Zarmina’s husband farms an area of ​​about 60 acres. This year, he planted only half of it because of the water shortage.

“The wealthy can have deep wells dug. The fields of the poor remain dry,” Zarmina notes.

However, according to her, the problem is not just a lack of water but also inadequate infrastructure.

“Some areas have a piped water system. We should have one too, and the government ought to repair the irrigation canals as well. The problem is that Afghanistan has water, but it isn’t distributed efficiently,” she continues.

Zarmina is sometimes forced to buy drinking water, as her own well has very little water, and what remains is salty. Unless the authorities do something about the water shortage, the result will be a disaster, Zarmina believes.

Drought affects every aspect of her life. She struggles daily to secure enough water for her family’s needs. As an orchardist, she watches helplessly as the trees she has tended for years slowly wither and die while still standing. Together with her husband, she mourns the loss of productivity in their fields, where crop yields have dwindled because of the drought.

For Zarmina, water scarcity means more than just the drying up of springs; it means jeopardizing an entire livelihood and way of life, as well as constant worry about her children’s access to water.

As drought worsens, life in Kabul revolves around water

Water scarcity affects the capital, Kabul, too, even just a stone’s throw from the former presidential palace.

Sixty-year-old Shazia (name changed) lives in western Kabul. A large part of her week is spent securing water for her family of five.

To meet their daily needs, families either buy water or wait for the local communal tap to start running. Water used to flow every few days, but now the wait can be much longer.

When the water finally arrives, large containers and buckets are filled, and as much as possible is stored.

“Our lives revolve around water. We buy different types of water for different needs: bottled water for tea, filtered water for cooking, and tap water for washing and the toilet,” Shazia says.

Sheila lives on one of the hills in western Kabul. Together with her young daughter, she tries to find enough drinking water for her six children.

In Sheila’s neighborhood, some homes are connected to a private water supply system that delivers water every two days. Those who cannot afford it buy their water. Another option is to carry water uphill to their homes in heavy containers.

Before water flows properly from the taps of households connected to the private system, it must be allowed to run from the main street pipe for a few minutes. When nearby residents see the water flowing, they rush to the spot with their jerry cans.

“If we’re lucky, we manage to fill a few containers. Here, next to the presidential palace, we aren’t looking for a gushing water source anymore. A few drops for our children are enough for us,” Sheila laments.

“Aid organizations used to install water pipes, but no one comes to help anymore. We’ve been left here with empty jerry cans and thirsty children.”

Excerpt:

Nurunnahar, 45, is always afraid of the tide. Early warning of the tide helps her prepare. Photographed at Jhapali village in Shyamnagar upazila (sub-district) of Satkhira district, Bangladesh. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS

By Rafiqul Islam Montu
SHYAMNAGAR (Satkhira), Bangladesh, Oct 1 2026 (IPS)

Villagers rush to the vulnerable spot of the embankment—early warning of the rising tide has alerted them. Together, they save the village from tidal flooding by repairing the vulnerable embankment, which is at risk from the impact of low pressure in July this year. The message is clear: early warnings of the rising tide save lives and property.

This wasn’t always the case. Cyclone Amphan in 2020 and Cyclone Yaas in 2021 destroyed the embankment in question, which is located in Datinakhali village, Burigoalini Union, Shyamnagar sub-district, Satkhira district, southwestern Bangladesh. But there was no early warning of the rising tide at that time, and the cyclone caused extensive damage.

Every year during the monsoon, the pressure of tidal water in various parts of the Bangladeshi coast breaks or overflows the embankment. This causes extensive damage to homes, resources, and crops. Many displaced families have been forced to move elsewhere after facing severe losses.

“Real-time area-based tidal surge warnings are helping us in disaster preparedness, saving resources and lives. We can take necessary measures to protect ourselves before the tidal surge. But we have faced losses again and again because we did not have this opportunity before,” explained Meherun Nesa, 45, a resident of Kalbari village in the Shyamnagar sub-district of Satkhira district. Rokeya Begum, 40, Sakina Begum, 39, and many others shared the same opinion.

The United Nations has set the goal of Early Warning for All by 2027 to save people from disasters. On the other hand, a new UN report published on August 31, 2026, says that more than 14 million people in the South Asian delta region are at risk of losing their shelter due to rising sea levels.

Their homes will be permanently submerged. Bangladesh is one of the countries at risk. It is crucial that updated disaster warnings reach people like Meherun Nesha, who live in disaster-prone areas of the country.

This house in Anuliya village in Asashuni upazila (sub-district) of the Satkhira district, Bangladesh, was swept away by tidal water pressure in April 2025, before there was a cyclone warning system. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS

Early Warnings Protect Against Tides

Early warnings were given in 25 places during low sea levels in July, August, and September this year about the risk of breaking embankments or overflowing embankments. After receiving the warnings, villagers repaired the embankments in the two most vulnerable places.

In other places, villagers have also carried out additional preparatory work. Now, people living on the coast can know in advance whether the tide will rise or whether the embankments will collapse under the pressure of the tide. By getting warnings, they are able to prepare themselves and save resources.

Artificial Intelligence (AI)-based scientific early warnings are also protecting the coastal people of Bangladesh from major disasters like tidal waves and embankment collapses. This technology is capable of providing accurate forecasts three days in advance of the cyclone.

The technology provides advance information about the location of potential tidal waves, water height, flooded areas, and vulnerable embankments. Through these capabilities, meteorologists and disaster management professionals can make quick decisions. Disaster management professionals hope that the technology will further enhance Bangladesh’s capacity to deal with disasters and will play an effective role in reducing losses.

The country currently provides cyclone forecasts, but being port-based or large area-based, these forecasts do not cover specific areas. These forecasts can’t accurately identify the specific location of tidal waves, potential water height, or flooded areas. To overcome this limitation, a scientific model has been developed with international cooperation, which is known as ‘Surf IT.’

The international organization Action Against Hunger and North South University are working jointly under the leadership of Bangladeshi non-governmental organization Uttaran to combat the disaster. Technical assistance is provided by the Bangladesh Meteorological Department (BMD), Flood Forecasting and Warning Center (FFWC), Water Development Board (BWDB), and Department of Disaster Management (DDM). The International Development Research Center (IDRC) provides financial support for the project.

How Does ‘Surf IT’ Work?

The model works by combining tides, temperature, and wind speed. It is combined with local knowledge. It involves marginalized communities in the project area. The model has been developed following the experience of weather forecasting systems in the European Union and the United States.

It not only measures the height of the tidal wave but also analyzes the condition of coastal embankments, their load-bearing capacity, and where the embankments are at risk of failure, and creates a map of flooded areas. Water sensors are constantly monitoring the river system and quickly detect any changes in water levels. Dams have been mapped to identify vulnerable areas and potential breach sites.

A digital dashboard has been created to convert complex data into simple and effective warnings. These help in providing forecasts. The information is sent to marginalized communities in local languages. It is sometimes sent via voice calls and sometimes via text messages. It is sent in such a simple language that anybody can access the message from any mobile phone.

According to the researchers, the latest test has shown that the model’s predictions are about 98 percent accurate. Work is underway to make it 100 percent accurate. Therefore, the model was tested at the field level in June, July, August, and September this year.

The project plans to transfer the technology to the government for use in the national disaster forecasting system. Currently, the project covers about 500,000 people in 20 unions across 3 sub-districts in 2 districts in southwest Bangladesh. The sub-districts are Shyamnagar, Asashuni in Satkhira district, and Koyra in Khulna district.

Will Reduce Loss and Damage

Md Jakariya, head of the ‘Surf IT’ technical team and professor in the Department of Environmental Science & Management at North South University, said, “One of the goals of the project is to reduce damage not only from major cyclones but also from regular very high tides and small tidal waves. Usually, even in the absence of major government assistance, people in coastal villages suffer a lot. The project has been initiated to reduce that damage.”

Discussions with the government are ongoing.

“This modern model is now final. Regular policy-making meetings are being held with high-level government officials to increase its effectiveness. The model is capable of predicting disasters three days in advance,” Zahid Amin Shaswat, Head of Program at the NGO Uttaran, which implements ‘Surf IT,’ said.

The advantage of this technology is that it goes beyond forecasting.

“Cyclone forecasting alone is not enough in coastal risk management; accurate information about the location, height, and potential flood areas is the most important thing in protecting human lives and property. Therefore, if such a technology based on scientific information can be effectively implemented, early evacuation of people to safe places, dam protection, and decision-making by local administration will be more realistic,” Environmentalist Sharif Jamil said.

Bangladesh in the Face of Disasters

Disasters like cyclones, floods, and heat waves are increasing in Bangladesh. Recently, coastal marginalized communities are facing loss and damage due to the impact of high tides.

In the latest long-term Global Climate Risk Index (CRI) published by Germanwatch, Bangladesh ranks 13th among the most vulnerable countries in the world. The World Bank has expressed concern that 216 million people will be internally displaced in six regions of the world by 2050 if necessary measures are not taken to prevent climate change. Of these, 40 million people will be displaced in South Asia. In South Asia alone, 19.9 million people are expected to be displaced in Bangladesh.

A recent joint study by the Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre (IDMC) and the Refugee and Migratory Movements Research Unit (RMMRU) says that more than 21 million people were displaced due to cyclones, floods, and tidal waves in Bangladesh between 2008 and 2025.

Meanwhile, in July this year, Disaster Management and Relief Minister Asadul Habib Dulu informed the National Parliament that floods and cyclones have caused Tk 41,200 crore (about US$ 3.3 million) in damage in the country over the five years from 2021 to 2025.

“In addition to major disasters, disasters like sudden high tides cause extensive damage to rural villages. Here, technology is being combined with the long-standing experience and folk knowledge of local people. Through this approach, it is possible to predict more accurately which dams are weak, where the risk of collapse is high, and where water can overflow,” added Md Jakariya.

Experts involved in the project hope that accurate early warning will ensure the safety of coastal people and reduce the risk of cyclones and tidal waves due to climate change. At the same time, the project will further strengthen Bangladesh’s capacity in disaster management.

On the ground people from marginalized communities, like Meherun Nesa, find hope in this message from experts.

IPS UN Bureau Report

Sarada Murlidharan, Photo: Supplied

By Kumkum Chadha
NEW DEHLI, Sep 28 2026 (IPS)

As a young girl, Sarada Murlidharan cringed at the thought of going to school. It was not the studies but the taunts of ‘being black’ or having dark skin, where fair skin was considered preferential, that made her unhappy.

It was not a one-off: it was there as a constant, often unsaid but equally piercing. She was not one of them but one apart, and that too in the negative sense.

Back home in the silence of the night, she would often cry, something she refused to admit in her adult years: “I don’t remember if I actually cried, but yes, I used to be anxious; in fact, torn apart … my insides eaten away … Yes, I went through all that,” Murlidharan told IPS in an exclusive interview.

Those were the days, and in later years of life too, Murlidharan often questioned her destiny and the curse of her darkness; she often wished she could go back to her mother’s womb and come out “all fair and pretty.” To this day, she shudders at the painful memory of having actually asked her aunts and cousins about the soap they used “to look fair and lovely.”

Etched deep in memory are also her teenage years when her father served as a warden in an engineering college down south. A disciplinarian, he took a strong stand against a group of senior students ragging freshers.

In the Indian context, ragging is a serious issue in higher educational institutions. Even with laws in place, colleges still see numerous cases of “violent fun.” When a first-year university student was brought home in a body bag in a city in eastern India, his parents were initially unaware that a 120-minute ragging session had ended his life.

But back to Murlidharan and her father, who had rusticated students on charges of ragging. Sarada recalls how every time that she and her sister stepped out, there were catcalls referring to her dark skin: “We heard it every single day. Words like ‘irrutu murali’ and ‘kurutte budhi’ … continue to haunt me.”

In Malayalam, which is spoken in the southern part of India, ‘irrutu’ means ‘pitch dark’. Roughly translated, ‘irrutu murali’ and ‘kurutte budhi’ mean someone who is pitch dark and has a devious mind.

Memories run deep: the bitter ones are often buried not to surface again. But this memory did surface, thanks to a social media post that created havoc in India. It brought alive an issue that was kind of buried within deep recesses.

The stigma of being dark stung yet again. It also brought an issue out in the open: one that had until now been private to those battling the curse of being dark-skinned.

When Muraleedharan woke up that morning when she was still serving in the state government in a senior position, it was like any other day, unaware that a storm awaited.

A Facebook post had allegedly commented on her skin colour. Worse still, it was a peg to compare her work with that of her husband, Venu Vasudevan.

“Heard an interesting comment yesterday on my stewardship as Chief Secretary — that (someone wrote that she) is as ‘black’ as my husband’s was ‘white’,” she wrote. “I need to own my blackness … I was hurt, yes … it was about being labelled ‘black’, as if it was something to be ashamed of … I need to own my ‘blackness’.”

Both Murlidharan and her husband were senior administrative officers. Like her husband, Sarada served as administrative head of the state of Kerala in South India: a coveted post.

Murlidharan also made history, given that she succeeded her husband. It was the first time that a husband-wife duo had held the top bureaucratic post in the state in succession.

But back to being dark-skinned and to Murlidharan’s story.

“Incidentally, my husband is fair-skinned,” she said, adding that she was calling out those who harboured a colour bias. “I felt it was time to own my blackness … to understand that there is beauty, except it is of a different kind, and it is not always that being fair means being beautiful. Even we who are dark can be beautiful.”

Ostensibly, Murlidharan may have worked around all these issues, but within, she was torn apart.

“The realisation of not being good enough; not being the right colour and the constant feeling that there was something wrong in the way I was born and that ‘black’ is not a good colour to be. I wanted to change it all,” she said.

It is a battle that she has fought all by herself, confronting “our demons”, as she calls her internal strife, her private hell.

“Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose,” she said.

Murlidharan is not alone. There are others who have faced and continue to face colour bias, but unlike Murlidharan, they did not fight it out.

“Better to keep it hidden than call it out,” said Pratibha, a second-year university student in southern India.

The sentiment, rather than rejection, resonates with what Murlidharan’s husband, Vasudevan, has said.

“My sister is not ‘fair’, and she has had to endure snide remarks from the family.”

Whether or not he stood up for his sister, Vasudevan has clearly supported his wife, Murlidharan.

Defending her outburst, he said, “It was a pensive reflection of a personal experience on a matter she felt deeply about and had endured for many years. The obsession with fair complexion is deep-rooted, fed by the general discourse in a society that worships it. There is only one word for this: ridiculous.”

Ridiculous it surely is, yet this reality is deep-rooted, unspoken, and abhorred.

Colourism, now popularly known as colour discrimination, is gender-specific. The intersection of colour and gender is a double whammy. It hits women hard and is tougher on them than it is on men.

“I cannot not be a woman, and I cannot not be dark. The problems that I have had for having to prove myself for being both woman and dark do not go” Murlidharan said, underlining that men being dark is acceptable, but when it comes to women, it is frowned upon, particularly in India, where there is widespread discrimination in terms of caste, gender and, of course, colour.

Even as women are coming into their own professionally and personally, men still get the better of them on the issue of colour.

Weekends are particularly dreadful given that large matrimonial advertisements stare one in the face. The catchline: Wanted a fair-skinned bride…

Occasionally they may say ‘caste no bar’, but they never say ‘colour no bar’. The prerequisite, decidedly, is fair skin, which in India is synonymous with being pretty.

However, this statement suggests that awareness has indeed dawned upon working women. They have not only opposed the fair skin demand, which until some years ago was kind of non-negotiable, but have also protested and, in many cases, changed the status quo.

In this context, what stands out is the campaign by well-known Indian film star and producer Nandita Das, who says she is “tired of being called dark and dusky.”

UNESCO handpicked her and launched a campaign called “India’s Got Colour.”

The campaign was a take-off from an initiative launched some years ago by the founder of Women and Worth, popular as WOW in India, Kavitha Emmanuel, titled Dark is Beautiful. The India’s Got Colour campaign was a significant advance in the fight against colourism.

Once Das got actively involved, other film personalities also got involved, including Bhumi Pednekar, another well-known name in the Indian film industry. To make this clear, Pednekar had intentionally appeared in a trailer of one of her films with make-up that showed her up as darker than she actually is.

For her part, Das has faced several situations during her film career when her skin tone has been lightened simply because she is playing the role of an educated upper-class woman, quite the opposite of when she is playing the role of a slum dweller.

Das has also faced situations when her makeup man reportedly told her, “Don’t worry. I am an expert in making people look fair.” She could then have torn her hair apart.

In addition to individuals, some top brands in the corporate sector were also facing backlash on this issue.

A well-known brand, Hindustan UniLever, had to rework its campaign after a furore over its Fair and Lovely ad. And advertisements wooing women to use fairness cream were nothing new. It had been in the market for over two decades until reality struck. And once it did, there was a backlash against the company for promoting colourism and racism.

The advertisement in question relied on a narrative that portrayed dark skin as ugly and fair skin as acceptable. Over the years several complaints were filed and penalties imposed. The government too stepped in and proposed a ban on such products till companies like Hindustan Unilever rebranded and dropped Fair from its brand name. Amid clamour for the cream’s withdrawal from the market, the company renamed it Glow and Lovely.

But is that enough? Does the rebranding and name change end the bias? Or does it also apply to colourism as well? Do pro-dark-skinned campaigns make life easier for dark-skinned women in India? Or is it mere eyewash, clearly just to grab eyeballs?

Sadly, little has changed in practice. Murlidharan may have taken up cudgels against the bias, and film stars may have backed the Black is Beautiful campaigns, but the truth is that when it comes to Indian society judging women, dark-skinned is considered unattractive, and light-skinned continue to rule.

IPS UN Bureau Report

A man carries his family’s food ration from a WFP distribution point to his shelter in Camp 11, Balukhali, Bangladesh, on September 24, 2026. Credit: Mohammed Zonaid/IPS

By Mohammed Zonaid
COX'S BAZAR, Bangladesh, Sep 28 2026 (IPS)

For Mohammed Dullah, recent cuts in UN food rations for Rohingya and other refugees in Bangladesh are not just spreading hunger but also forcing them to save on basic needs such as schooling and healthcare for his children.

“I was able to manage with my children somehow when I used to get $12 by going to work sometimes,” said Dullah, 59. “But since the reduction to seven dollars [per family member] a month, I can’t afford lots of basics anymore, like clothes, tuition fees, meat, or fish one or two times a month.”

As a result, his 15-year-old son has had to give up school to work in a market where he can earn about 6,000 taka ($49) a month to help sustain their family of nine.

Since April, food assistance has been allocated under a revised Targeting and Prioritisation Exercise (TPE) introduced by the World Food Programme (WFP). Households among the nearly 1.2 million refugees in Cox’s Bazar and Bhasan Char receive different levels of monthly food rations based on categories of assessed vulnerability.

WFP says the new system sets food aid at $12, $10 or $7 per person per month, depending on the household’s level of food insecurity. With money provided through UNHCR registration cards, families buy food from designated WFP e-voucher outlets.

Refugees limit what they eat and trade any surplus food for money to spend on healthcare, education, transport outside the camps and other necessities. For families with no access to formal employment, which is prohibited in the camps, even a relatively small reduction can result in making difficult choices.

Humanitarian agencies are warning that global funding cuts are driving up hunger levels. Children make up more than half of the refugee population in Cox’s Bazar.

“Conditions in the world’s largest refugee settlement are worsening at an alarming rate after nine years, with 35% of Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh expected to face ‘crisis’ or ‘emergency’ hunger levels this year, putting more children at risk of malnutrition,” Save the Children stated on August 25.

“Global humanitarian funding cuts, compounded by the resulting reductions in food rations over the past year, have exacerbated existing challenges which include overcrowded living conditions and limited access to clean water, nutritious food and livelihoods.”

A System Under Pressure

The Rohingya have been displaced from Myanmar over decades, with major waves of refugees arriving in Bangladesh in 1991–92 and again after the military-led violence of 2017. More recently, people have fled renewed violence in Rakhine State between the Myanmar military and the Arakan Army (AA), an ethnic armed organisation.

Nearly a decade after the 2017 mass exodus, many Rohingya families remain fully dependent on humanitarian assistance. Bangladesh restricts refugees’ access to formal employment, while humanitarian organisations provide food, basic informal education, basic healthcare, water, sanitation and other essential services.

International funding has come under increasing pressure. The UN and its partners have appealed for $710.5 million under the updated 2026 Joint Response Plan (JRP) to support Rohingya refugees and host communities, its lowest level in a decade. So far this year it is 50 percent funded.

WFP’s new assessment found that all Rohingya refugees were food insecure, but that severity differed between households. Households are newly classified into three categories: extremely food-insecure households receive US$12 per person per month, highly food-insecure households receive $10, and food-insecure households, which make up almost 70% of the total, receive $7.

The system is intended to allocate assistance according to need rather than simply impose a blanket reduction because of funding shortages.

WFP says that even the lowest level of assistance is sufficient to meet minimum food needs. But families and INGOs in interviews with this reporter describe a more complicated reality.

Dullah says he is unable to work because of a long-term illness, but his household was categorised at the $7-per-person level. According to Dullah, the family receives basic food items, including rice and cooking oil, but they have little left over to obtain other foods or meet other expenses.

As with other Rohingya refugees, Dullah has no legal access to paid employment, but the levels of food they receive force them to work.

“You cannot expect people to become self-reliant while preventing them from earning a living. If WFP and other agencies want us to rely more on ourselves, they also need to support legal opportunities for Rohingya refugees to work and earn an income,” he said.

“Even before, we struggled with not having enough food when we got $12,” said Dullah, who worries about his children’s growth development. His 18-month-old granddaughter needs infant formula because her mother, lacking in food, struggled to meet the child’s needs by natural feeding.

WFP essentially categorised households according to their composition.

For example, the Extremely Food Insecure bracket includes those headed by a child or by a person with disabilities, female-headed households without an able-bodied adult man aged 18–59, elderly-headed households without an able-bodied adult man, households with two or more persons with disabilities, and one-member households.

The main category of food insecurity covers male-headed households with able-bodied men and no members with disabilities, female-headed households with an able-bodied man and no members with disabilities, and households without females aged 18 to 49 or without members with disabilities.

Selling Food to Pay for Other Needs

Sawyedul Amin, 34, receives assistance valued at $10 per person for his household living in Lambashia Camp in Kutupalong. They fled Myanmar in 2017, losing their father on a mountain along the way.

He has two young children, a sick mother and a wife who has undergone two operations, one related to childbirth and another for a tumour.

“If we want to eat fish or meat, we cannot afford it,” he said. “We also have small children, which means we have additional expenses for them. I also have an ill mother, which makes our medical expenses even greater.”

Sawyedul said he sometimes sells part of his family’s food allocation to obtain cash for those expenses.

Selling or trading food for medicines or services is nothing new in the camps, and the impact has been well documented in earlier cuts.

In 2023 funding shortages forced WFP to reduce monthly food rations from $12 to $10 and then further to $8 in June that year. Monitoring found deteriorating food consumption and worsening nutrition indicators.

Sawyedul said other organisations previously sometimes provided his family with additional assistance, but some of that support has declined. “We now have only the WFP to look to for assistance,” he said.

Flaws in the Rationing System

Radia Bala, a 60-year-old widow among a refugee community of about 1,000 Hindus, had to survive with no assistance at all for five months this year. Her family, along with many others, eventually started to receive aid in July.

Radia, from Nakpura village in Myanmar, arrived in Bangladesh with her family in 2024 after fighting between AA insurgents and the Myanmar military spread through her area.

She recalls ground and air attacks, homes burnt down, and relatives and neighbours killed around her. The insurgents also targeted them for forced recruitment. Their escape involved a three-day journey, partly through mountains.

After reaching Bangladesh, Radia says her family received a smart card and initially received food assistance, cooking gas and soap. But then it stopped in December 2025. “I wasn’t given an exact reason by the authorities why it was stopped,” she said.

Radia now rents space in the house of a local Bangladeshi family from the Barua ethnic group. She is among nearly 150,000 newly arrived refugees who have not been provided with shelter, having crossed from Myanmar’s Rakhine State between December 2024 and March 2026.

Radia and her daughter, who has a six-month-old baby, work as cleaners to survive. “During those months [with no food aid], we ate only rice with leafy vegetables,” she said. When assistance was available, she said, the family could sometimes eat chicken, eggs and bananas.

Her experience highlights serious flaws in the system of allocating food rations, namely that access depends on registration and connection to the mechanisms through which it is delivered.

Radia says that when people from her community arrived in 2024, they were told that food assistance would be available if they stayed inside the camps. But she says the family found it difficult to remain there because of shortages of shelters, water, toilets and washrooms.

“We stayed in the camp for about a month in a relative’s shelter, but life there was very difficult,” she said.

Her family subsequently moved between relatives’ homes and other temporary locations. “We have been living from place to place, staying on the streets and in other people’s homes.”

After raising complaints and following media coverage of their plight, she started receiving $12 per person. But Radia says she needs to sell half of that to pay for room rent.

Her request is simple. “Our first need is food assistance, and our second need is shelter,” she said.

WFP says it provides monthly food assistance to all the refugee population, including people who arrived after 2024, according to their assessed need.

Risks for Children are Worsening

Golam Mostofa, head of Save the Children’s Cox’s Bazar Area Office, said children are increasingly exposed to risks as families struggle with limited resources and opportunities.

“The situation is getting worse day by day,” he said.

Child protection monitoring had raised increasing concerns over child labour and child marriage, as well as other risks facing children and adolescents, he added.

However, Mostofa cautioned against assuming that every reported case of child labour, child marriage, malnutrition or dropping out of NGO learning centres was caused by the latest food-assistance changes.

However, Save the Children’s current assessment warns that worsening access to nutritious food, healthcare and other essentials is increasing pressure on children.

The NGO predicts that by the end of this year, some 10 percent of refugees in camps in Cox’s Bazar will fall into Phase 4 of the international classification of “humanitarian emergency”, which is defined as leading to frequent deaths and increasingly high rates of malnutrition. This is defined as one step before famine and humanitarian catastrophe.

Mostofa appealed to donors to continue supporting food, education, healthcare, water and sanitation while also expanding opportunities for skills development and safe livelihoods.

The WFP Bangladesh communication team did not respond to requests for comment.

Refugees Face Dangerous Choices

While Save the Children has been working in Cox’s Bazar since 2012 with programmes for education, healthcare, water and sanitation and child protection, a whole generation of Rohingya children has grown up in camps which began as emergency settlements but have turned into long-term places of residence.

For families with limited access to formal employment, humanitarian assistance remains central to daily life. Continued civil war in Myanmar, driven by an entrenched military regime backed by China, provides little prospect of a durable solution that would allow the mostly stateless Rohingya to return to their homes.

Committing their lives to human traffickers and fleeing Bangladesh by sea in search of a better life is extremely perilous. An estimated 5,000 refugees are believed to have perished over the past decade while attempting to reach other countries in Southeast Asia.

Dullah still talks about returning to Myanmar, remembering the land he farmed and the cows and buffaloes he owned before his family were forced to flee in 2017. “I want to be able to return and rebuild my life,” he said.

As world leaders met in New York for the UN General Assembly, Bangladesh Prime Minister Tarique Rahman called for a clear roadmap for the safe, voluntary, dignified and sustainable return of Rohingya refugees to Myanmar, alongside continued humanitarian support, protection of civilians and international accountability.

Until that becomes possible, refugee families like Dullah’s remain dependent on an aid system based on calculations of dollars per person, while the choices they face are measured in meals, medicines, school days and the future of their children.

Note: This story was produced with support from Moving Minds Alliance (MMA) through the Reporters for Early Childhood in Humanitarian Crisis (REACH Network) Advocacy Stories Fund

IPS UN Bureau Report

By Oritro Karim
KATHMANDU, Nepal / NEW YORK, United States , Sep 25 2026 (IPS)

On August 26, 2026, deadly flash floods and landslides ripped through Himalayan towns and villages along Nepal and Tibet’s border, devastating communities. The United Nations estimates that in Nepal’s worst-affected districts of Rasuwa and Nuwakot, 157,050 women and girls are directly or indirectly impacted.

Ranjeeta Silwal

Climate change, melting glaciers and Nepal’s catastrophic floods

Shortly after 8:30 am, a catastrophic avalanche of glacial ice and bedrock roughly two square kilometres in size plunged thousands of metres into the river below, triggering a lethal flood of water, ice, rock and sediment. Travelling over 200 kilometres from Tibet into Nepal, the raging torrent swept away people, animals, homes, schools, roads, bridges and other key infrastructure.

World Weather Attribution explains that human-caused climate change is thawing permafrost in the Himalayan mountains and causing glaciers to melt, likely destabilising the slopes that triggered this humanitarian and environmental disaster.

At the time of writing, over 1,450 people are confirmed dead and more than 8,000 remain missing, with only a fraction of bodies identified and returned to their families. Nepal’s National Child Rights Council and Save the Children have reported that over 1,000 children are in temporary shelters without any parents, many of whom are dead or missing.

Ranjeeta Silwal explains how Nepal’s floods have put women and girls at greater risk

“While temporary shelters can be life-saving, if they aren’t designed with gender protection considerations from the outset, they can create new risks associated with overcrowding, lack of privacy, separation from family and community support networks, and limited access to confidential mechanisms for reporting violence. Without safe, accessible toilets, adequate lighting, privacy and safe pathways, women and girls may face risks simply when using the toilet or bathing, particularly at night.

“Systems that would normally prevent and respond to violations, like health and social services, police, courts and local communities, may be damaged or inaccessible. When authorities are focused elsewhere or are themselves absent because of disaster, the risk of violence, exploitation and other abuse increases exponentially.

“Women who are pregnant or breastfeeding, women in poverty or from rural communities, those with disabilities, widowed and single women, and women-headed households may face additional barriers in accessing services, facilities and information following natural disasters. Adolescent girls can be especially affected because they have less mobility, less access to information and limited decision-making power.

“We need to ask: who can move safely, who has privacy, who can access food and water, who has information and safety networks? These are not additional considerations; these are basic requirements of a rights-based humanitarian response.

“The emergency doesn’t end when flood water recedes, as the secondary impacts can continue for months, even years. When families lose their house, their income and support networks, women and girls become more exposed and vulnerable to sexual violence, intimate partner violence, sexual exploitation, trafficking and child marriage. We need to understand that protection from gender-based violence must be part of the emergency response; it is not something that can wait until reconstruction begins.”

How does the climate crisis increase the risk of child marriage?

“Nepal has made important legal and policy commitments by raising the legal age of marriage to 20 for both women and men and pledging to end child marriage by 2030. Despite this, child marriage remains an ongoing problem. An Equality Now report on child marriage in South Asia explains how poverty, insecurity and lack of access to education are key factors, and the flood in Nepal has amplified all of these, especially for families who’ve lost their homes, agricultural land, livestock and incomes.

“Climate resilience and ending child marriage cannot be treated as separate agendas. As climate-driven disasters become more frequent and severe, the economic pressures on families can intensify, changing how they view a girl’s future.

“When a family is displaced, or a school is destroyed, returning to education can be extremely difficult. Families who’ve lost everything may be unable to afford transport, uniforms or supplies, and girls may be expected to take on additional domestic and care responsibilities. Parents can see marriage as a way to reduce household costs or provide daughters with perceived economic and physical security.

“Once a girl leaves school, the risk of child marriage, early pregnancy, exploitation, child labour and economic dependence increases. So schooling must be part of emergency responses, with displaced children given access to education as soon as possible. Families need social protection, livelihoods, education, food, housing and other essential support so they don’t turn to child marriage as a coping mechanism.”

What should recovery and reconstruction after the floods look like in Nepal?

“Across South Asia, many women depend on agriculture and natural resources while having less control over land, assets and finance. When natural disasters destroy agricultural land, inequalities deepen. A woman who has lost her livelihood and independent income may become more economically dependent on a partner or other household members, making it far harder to leave an abusive situation or challenge exploitation.

“Recovery should mean more than simply rebuilding what existed before. The first step should be a gender-responsive needs assessment, and plans to restore livelihoods must consider who controls assets and income, and how recovery can strengthen women’s economic security and autonomy. Crucially, recovery policies must be deliberately designed to reach women directly.

“Support can take many forms, including cash assistance, help to restore land and housing documentation, and direct access to compensation, recovery grants, credit and financial services. It should also include skills development, employment opportunities and investment in climate resilience. Unpaid care work is often overlooked, despite increasing significantly following disasters. Women looking after children, older people and injured family members have less time to rebuild their livelihoods, so recovery efforts must address this burden.

“Women and girls are not just victims of climate change. They are also agents of change, knowledge holders and decision-makers. We must ensure women’s meaningful participation in recovery decisions, and they shouldn’t only be consulted on plans that have already been developed. They need meaningful influence over what is rebuilt, where it is rebuilt, and how resources are allocated in the short and long term.”

About Ranjeeta Silwal, South Asia Regional Representative, Equality Now

Ranjeeta Silwal is a human rights lawyer, advocate and programme leader. She has recently joined international women’s rights organisation Equality Now as their South Asia Regional Representative. Licensed to practise law in Nepal, Ranjeeta has represented survivors before UN human rights mechanisms, contributed to strategic litigation, and led advocacy to reform discriminatory laws and advance accountability. Her work has focused particularly on gender-based violence, discrimination, sexual and reproductive health and rights, and strengthening legal protections and access to justice for all women and girls.

IPS UN Bureau Report

Excerpt:

A Rohingya refugee carries Myanmar's national flag during a Genocide Remembrance Day rally marking the anniversary of their mass exodus at a refugee camp in Bangladesh on 25 August 2026. Credit: Abdul Goni/AFP

By Andrew Firmin
LONDON, Sep 25 2026 (IPS)

On 15 September, Norwegian police and security services raided the headquarters of Telenor in Oslo. Authorities accuse the multinational telecoms company, majority owned by the Norwegian state, of aiding and abetting crimes against humanity in Myanmar and breaching sanctions.

Telenor sold its Myanmar subsidiary in March 2022, in the wake of the military coup that ousted the country’s democratically elected government in February 2021. An August 2025 Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation investigation reported that ahead of its exit, Telenor had complied with military requests to hand over customer data. It’s alleged that call log and location data may have helped the military track, capture and kill democracy activists, including campaigner Ko Jimmy, executed in July 2022.

Civil society warned of the dangers when Telenor prepared to sell its subsidiary to a joint venture between a Lebanese group and Thein Win Zaw, a Burmese entrepreneur accused of having close military ties. It has kept up the struggle for accountability. Justice for Myanmar, a covert activist group, worked with the International Commission of Jurists to collect documentary evidence on Telenor’s role and filed police complaints in December 2024 and October 2025.

Telenor is also subject to a lawsuit brought by a group of civil society organisations last October, alleging the company passed on data of over 1,200 people. In addition, the company has been found in breach of the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development’s Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises on Responsible Business Conduct.

International complicity

The Telenor case focuses attention on the wider networks of companies and states that are propping up the regime and keeping Myanmar’s civil war going.

Following the coup, almost all states refused to recognise Myanmar’s military rulers and continued to regard the exiled National Unity Government as the country’s legitimate representative. But several authoritarian states have since swung behind the junta. Russia leads the pack, with Vladimir Putin hosting junta leader Min Aung Hlaing for repeat visits in Moscow. China, India, Singapore and Thailand have joined Russia in supplying weapons.

Many Chinese companies collaborate with the regime, among them Geedge Networks, a tech company with close links to the Chinese state that specialises in online surveillance. The company is helping the military install a version of China’s ‘great firewall’ so it can systematically restrict internet use, access users’ data and identify and track down dissenters.

The junta made a concerted effort to gain international legitimacy with a sham election in December 2025 and January 2026. It extensively prepared the ground by replacing the civilian electoral commission with a military-controlled body, banning pro-democracy parties and prohibiting political rallies, ensuring a military puppet party faced only token opposition. A new election law enabled it to criminalise over 300 people for criticising the election. Authorities jailed some merely for liking social media posts and handed 37-year sentences to eight activists for taking part in a protest calling for a boycott. There were also reports of threats to withhold aid from displacement camps unless people voted.

After the military’s party duly won, Min Aung Hlaing transitioned from general to civilian and became president in April. That same month, a group of civil society organisations filed a complaint against him in Indonesia over his role in the 2017 genocide of Rohingya people. Despite this legal action and the election’s evident lack of credibility, an array of non-democratic states including Belarus, China and Russia were happy to endorse the result.

While the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) didn’t recognise the election, its most authoritarian members, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam, backed it anyway, and the bloc has consistently stuck with its failed Five Point Consensus, a plan agreed with the junta in April 2021 that the military has never respected.

The US government has also shifted its position. In 2025, the Trump administration cut funding to independent Burmese media, lifted sanctions against junta-controlled businesses and arms dealers supplying the regime and removed protections from Burmese refugees living in the USA, citing governance improvements. It treated the junta as a legitimate counterpart by sending it a letter about tariffs. In May, it was revealed the junta gives Roger Stone, a long-time Donald Trump ally, US$50,000 a month to rebuild relations with the USA. Mineral deposits are likely in the Trump administration’s sights.

Civil war continues

The Telenor raid has momentarily brought Myanmar back into the headlines. Its civil war has otherwise gone on for almost five and a half years with little global attention. Sparked by the army’s violent suppression of democracy protests, it pits the military against armed pro-democracy forces, both backed by a variety of ethnic militia. The army controls the main population centres and has recently regained some territory, but there’s no end in sight.

The army has committed numerous crimes against humanity and war crimes. A September 2025 UN report painted a harrowing picture of airstrikes on schools and the destruction of villages. This year, the conflict has escalated across the Magway Region, with the army and associated militia mounting armed assaults on villages, burning homes and using drones to kill civilians, including children.

Recent escalations of conflict have driven further displacement. At the same time, monsoon rains across several regions in July and August caused floods that left villages isolated and increased disease risks. As needs have grown, the healthcare system is collapsing due to military attacks on facilities and workers, while humanitarian aid and vital health supplies are further constrained by military checkpoints, road closures and movement restrictions.

The Telenor case has the potential to challenge impunity. It should refocus the minds of democratic states and companies headquartered in them, offering a warning that they can be exposed for complicity in the junta’s atrocities. It should give fresh impetus to civil society’s efforts to hold states and companies to account. By standing with civil society, in Myanmar and around the world, democratic states can put themselves on the side of human rights and justice.

Andrew Firmin is CIVICUS Editor-in-Chief, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

A street market in Yangon, Myanmar’s biggest city. Residents are anxious about high inflation and also fear recent floods will drive food prices higher. Credit: Ant/IPS

By Guy Dinmore, and a reporter in Yangon
YANGON, Myanmar, Sep 23 2026 (IPS)

Isolated and at constant war with itself, Myanmar’s humanitarian crisis is deepening as global challenges far exceed the capacity to respond of a military regime increasingly focused on its own survival.

The climate crisis, soaring commodity prices triggered by wars in Europe and the Middle East, plus worldwide cuts in donor aid are all hitting Myanmar hard. The regime’s inability to govern a fragmented and restive country with nearly four million internally displaced people has been exposed to the full since it seized power over five years ago.

Widespread floods caused by heavy monsoon rains since July have affected over 470,000 people, according to an assessment by the World Health Organization. Cases of malaria and dengue have been increasing, as well as outbreaks of cholera.

“Everyone is starving and cut off. Yes, everyone is facing food shortages,” said an activist calling himself Bruce, describing the situation in Shwebo township in the north-central Sagaing region, one of the main conflict zones and rice transshipment centres hit by floods.

Local and international aid organisations struggle to get help through conflict zones where the military is fighting a shifting array of ethnic armed organisations (EAOs) and local resistance groups while syphoning off what it can.

“Armed hostilities, movement restrictions and administrative requirements continue to block access, underscoring the need for safe, sustained and unhindered humanitarian reach to vulnerable communities,” the UN Office for Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) said in a July bulletin.

“Myanmar remains one of the world’s most severe humanitarian crises, with more than 16 million people in need as conflict, displacement, protection risks and access constraints intensify urgent needs nationwide,” OCHA said, noting that by end-March “humanitarian partners” had managed to reach 1.6 million people.

Floods have driven up food prices, already exacerbated by rising costs of fuel and fertilisers caused by Russia’s war on Ukraine and Iran’s blockade of the Strait of Hormuz following attacks by the US and Israel.

All sides exact a price in Myanmar, Bruce said, with cargo trucks moving north from the regime-controlled city of Mandalay to Shwebo having to pay fees at multiple military checkpoints and those run by other armed groups. Farmers in neighbouring Shan state growing rice and tomatoes are also facing “devastating losses” and being driven into deep poverty, he said.

Shwebo has experienced power blackouts of up to 20 consecutive days. As darkness falls, residents do not dare venture outside for fear of forced conscription by the regime, especially in rural areas. Households pay levies to avoid conscription, even those with only single women.

Some people are being forced into a second round of conscription as the military struggles to replenish its ranks, stretched across the country. Over 100,000 people have been conscripted, according to some estimates.

At night authorities inspect mobile phones. If they find online games, evidence of Starlink use or unauthorised communication devices then the individuals are immediately taken for military service.

Inflation and extortion reach deep into prisons too, said Bruce, a former political prisoner. Skin diseases like scabies are common, and the cost of a particular drug bought by relatives has soared more than eight times, while even traditional medicines like neem leaves have gone up fivefold.

Prison staff and those manning checkpoints even take their cuts of peanut snacks, driving up prices paid by prisoners.

The numbers displaced by conflict continue to rise. Fighting in the central Magway region in recent months has added over 200,000 more since May, according to some UN estimates. People fleeing conflict are moving to safer areas, but host communities have limited capacity to accommodate them.

U Than is a farmer in the Ayeyarwady delta and was struggling to make ends meet even before recent floods hit the major rice-growing region, destroying crops and jeopardising the next planting season. Fortunately his land has been spared destruction, but everyone is keeping a close eye on nearby levees.

“Farming has become a cycle of borrowing just to survive,” he said, complaining that the cost of fertiliser has risen five-fold and that fuel is increasingly expensive and difficult to obtain.

“We are working harder, borrowing more, and spending more, but the income from our harvest is no longer enough to cover the cost of farming or even our basic living expenses.” Families are forced to cut back their spending on health and education.

Yangon, Myanmar’s biggest city, feels somewhat insulated from the recent natural disasters and ongoing civil war. But inflation is hitting the pockets of its six million people, including city officials and their families, who squeeze more money from residents on trumped-up charges or bribes to avoid conscription.

“The junta stooges are resorting to all sorts of methods, legal or illegal, to recruit people while at the same time making money in the process,” one long-time resident told IPS.

“Life in Yangon is morphing into a new normal, with people feeling less safe about their lives as crimes are widespread. So many cases of theft and robberies go unreported or under-reported.”

A cholera outbreak in central Yangon in August, the second in two years, was blamed on poor hygiene among street vendors whose cheap food is even more attractive as inflation bites. The regime responded by shutting down their businesses in six city townships. Outbreaks have also been reported in Sittwe, one of the last regime strongholds in Rakhine State, as well as flood-affected areas.

Reports that CCTV artificial intelligence and facial scanning technology were deployed at a checkpoint in Mandalay city have raised fears that the regime is adopting widespread surveillance controls pioneered by China, its closest ally.

Min Aung Hlaing, leader of the 2021 coup, has proved resilient and uncompromising in directing a brutal retaliation against the popular resistance and was confident enough to swap his general’s uniform for a civilian suit as president after tightly orchestrated elections this year.

The Independent Investigative Mechanism for Myanmar, set up by the UN Human Rights Council, stated in its annual report that its findings “show a pattern of deliberate aerial attacks on civilians, arbitrary detentions, torture and sexual violence committed by the Myanmar military.”

The military escalated its aerial attacks and other crimes against civilians in the lead-up to the elections, and these have continued unabated, the IIMM said, listing the targeting of homes, schools, medical facilities, religious buildings and camps for internally displaced persons.

“This underscores the urgent need to hold those responsible to account,” it said. The IIMM is also investigating alleged atrocities involving armed groups opposed to the military.

For the moment, accountability seems a distant prospect, at best.

Since Min Aung Hlaing’s assumption of the presidency in April, the former general has been accepted on official visits to Belarus, Russia, Kazakhstan, India, China, Laos, Vietnam and Thailand. The Trump administration has not rolled out the red carpet but has eased sanctions against some of the regime elite and is engaging on matters of particular concern to the US, such as scam centres.

The regime’s growing de facto recognition abroad poses a further threat to the struggling efforts to exert its authority in liberated areas by the parallel National Unity Government (NUG). Established by lawmakers ousted in 2021 when Aung San Suu Kyi and other prominent leaders were jailed, the NUG managed to conclude agreements in March with several major ethnic armed organisations (EAOs) in an attempt to forge a unified political and military resistance.

Calling themselves the Steering Council for the Emergence of a Federal Democratic Union (SCEF), the alliance has stated its commitment to a negotiated political solution that would end military rule and exclude the generals from politics.

“To get there we’re pursuing all available avenues, including military means,” a senior resistance official told IPS.

However, there is scepticism that Min Aung Hlaing will deal with the new collective entity and will continue to insist on bilateral ceasefire talks with individual EAOs while refusing to recognise the NUG as an interlocutor. Several major armed groups dependant to varying degrees on neighbouring China have also kept the SCEF at arm’s length.

“Substantive negotiations between the Tatmadaw [the Myanmar military] and SCEF members are likely to prove challenging,” Morgan Michaels, a southeast Asia defence expert, wrote in a recent analysis for the International Institute of Strategic Studies.

“Meaningful progress in Myanmar – whether political, economic or humanitarian – would need to start with a broad conflict de-escalation, which at a minimum would require ceasefires between the Tatmadaw and the EAOs. Unfortunately, the path to de-escalation is likely to be long and fraught with dilemmas.”

IPS UN Bureau Report

Helen Clarkson, CEO, Climate Group at Climate Week NYC. Credit: Climate Group

By Naureen Hossain
NEW YORK, Sep 22 2026 (IPS)

The Climate Group’s annual conference in New York City has attracted thousands of attendees this year, among them world leaders, corporate heads, philanthropists, and climate advocates. Those leaders present at the opening ceremony of Climate Week have made clear calls to collectively tackle climate issues.

Climate Week NYC’s opening ceremony and conference began on Monday in conjunction with the United Nations General Assembly Debate and High-Level Week (21-29 September). In addition to the main conference, held in the Glass House on 12th Avenue, there are multiple events hosted across New York City—more than 1,500. This is slated to be the biggest Climate Week yet, according to the Climate Group, the organizers of this week-long event.

Each year, Climate Week focuses on the most urgent issues when it comes to tackling climate change, from the transition to renewable energy, corporate and government responsibility, and scaling climate and economic progress.

The consequences of climate change, including extreme weather events, rising temperatures, and sea levels, are being felt worldwide. Global conflicts like the war between Russia and Ukraine and the situation in the Middle East have disrupted the world’s energy supply of oil and gas, which has put developed and developing countries alike in prolonged stress over energy needs.

Australian PM M Anthony Albanese. Credit: Climate Group

It is the latter point that the day’s first speakers urged on, as even in the face of mounting evidence that clean energy is more affordable, countries still rely on fossil fuels. But blaming the situation solely on fossil fuel companies would not be accurate. Helen Clarkson, the founder of Climate Group, pointed out in her opening remarks that incumbents still use and rely on fossil fuels for their energy needs. She also pointed her finger at right-wing pundits in traditional and social media that spread misinformation about renewable energy and politicians who “weaponize people’s fear.” Meanwhile, some leaders and even media outlets choose not to use the word ‘climate’ in relation to these issues in a form of erasure or denial. Silence is a form of inaction, Clarkson noted soberly, and that inaction leads to more climate change.

“It’s time to face the truth, and that’s hard in a world where truth has lost so much of its currency. But the truth is, we’ve been making ourselves smaller and quiet at the exact moment we should be bigger and louder,” said Clarkson.

Climate and nature loss should also be treated as a matter of national security, said Ed Miliband, the United Kingdom’s Foreign Minister. Miliband, who served as the energy secretary under Prime Ministers Gordon Brown and Keir Starmer, remarked that climate destruction was once treated as a peripheral matter that was separate from economic growth or energy security. The job growth in the clean energy sector proves their potential for a sustainable transition. The latest conflicts in Ukraine and Iran underline the dependence of countries on fossil fuels while also highlighting the “energy independent imperative” of clean energy.

Ed Miliband, Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs of the United Kingdom at Climate Week. Credit: Climate Group

Countries struggle with the overlapping consequences driven by climate change, for they are no longer confined to borders. In 2026 alone, over 150 million hectares burned in the first four months. This year has also confirmed a “super” El Niño that will likely drive global recorded temperatures and extreme weather events to new levels.

“This is why these facts, what is happening in our world, and why climate breakdown, in my view, must be an issue for foreign ministers and prime ministers, as well as energy and climate ministers,” said Miliband.

Miliband recommended governments pool information on climate issues so that it can be used to inform forecasts and early warning systems to “[act] before the crisis hits, rather than picking up the pieces afterwards.”

This sense of collective responsibility between countries was the core of the keynote speech, delivered by Australia’s Prime Minister Anthony Albanese.

“The global community cannot afford to be frozen in time while the world falls around us,” said Albanese. “Australia understands the dangers of global warming and the emergency of climate action as well as any nation. We’ve seen it up close from increasingly intense bushfires and floods.”

Albanese also spoke to the specific context of the Pacific region, where states are uniquely vulnerable to the impacts of climate change and have been among the most vocal advocates for climate action. He cited Australia’s efforts to fund and support Pacific Island states in their climate resilience plans. There is also the Pacific Resilience Facility, established last year, which he claimed was the first Pacific-led climate financing mechanism.

Adopting climate-friendly and sustainable initiatives is possible and better in the longterm to build necessary resilience. Iceland provides one such example, as a country that holds geothermal reserves but had been running on imported oil until the early 1970s during the oil crisis that disrupted their supplies. Through financing, political will, and cutting-edge technology, Iceland began developing large-scale geothermal heating districts across the country. Today, over 90 percent of households in Iceland are heated by geothermal energy. For Prime Minister Kristrún Frostadóttir, the lesson that countries should take from their example is to invest in climate-friendly infrastructure and initiatives before the next shock.

“The transition each of you is managing—in energy, in supply chains, in infrastructure, in economic competitiveness—won’t be won by the country or the company that reacts fastest to the next disruption. It’ll be won by the one that has already built the capacity to absorb it, years before it arrives. Resilience, in other words, isn’t a response. It’s a foundation you pour long before anyone tells you the storm is coming,” Frostadóttir said.

As Frostadóttir and the other world leaders remarked in their addresses, the solutions to climate change already exist. But it will require an equal measure of financing and political will to push through with the necessary steps. It cannot be a matter of waiting for the next climate or geopolitical shock to adopt those changes.

IPS UN Bureau Report

A public streetside sign advocates against gender-based violence in the Highlands of Papua New Guinea. Credit: Catherine Wilson/IPS

By Catherine Wilson
SYDNEY, Australia, Sep 22 2026 (IPS)

In the remote Highlands region of Papua New Guinea (PNG), humanitarians are life-saving beacons to women and girls facing myriad forms of violence. Despite years of awareness programmes and advocacy, the incidence of domestic and sexual violence is not declining. But Janet Kilea is one survivor who has rejected the fear and stigma of her experience and now dedicates her energy to transforming other women’s lives.

“I feel for other women who are going through the challenges I went through,” Kilea, who works in communities with the international medical humanitarian organisation Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) in the mountainous Jiwaka Province, told IPS. “I need to use my experience to advocate for and empower women. Women should come out and not be silent about gender-based violence.”

Globally, about 31.6 percent of women have been subjected to physical or sexual violence, reports the World Health Organization (WHO), compared to an estimated 64 percent, more than double, in PNG, which has a population of about 10 million. Yet abuse of women, whether physical, psychological or economic, is of worldwide concern. It affects women and girls in both developed and developing countries, with the WHO claiming that SDG 5.2, which aims to eliminate it, is severely off-track and will not, on current trends, be achieved by 2030.

MSF’s Community Engagement Supervisor, Janet Kilea (L), with Community Health Worker, Judith (C), and Village Health Volunteer, Cathy (R), in Mondumil Village, Jiwaka Province, PNG. Credit: Sophie McNamara/MSF

And, in the PNG highlands, there are numerous barriers to changing the behaviours that endanger women’s lives and getting medical and support services to those who desperately need them. Most people live in isolated communities scattered across a vast rugged terrain of impenetrable forests, arduous high-altitude areas and deep valleys. Many do not have access to roads, while state services, including law enforcement, rarely reach far beyond major towns.

Across the Pacific, rural women and girls are particularly vulnerable, given they are twice as likely to live in poverty as those in urban centres, reports the UN Women, and face entrenched customary beliefs and practices that reinforce notions of gender inequality. Polygamous marriage, for instance, increases the risk of intimate partner violence by 24 percent, according to the World Bank. In the Pacific, “men still see women and girls as their property and believe that they are entitled to control them. And so far there are no efforts led by men to change the situation,” Colin Tukuitonga, Professor of Public Health at New Zealand’s University of Auckland, told IPS.

“In Jiwaka Province, it is estimated that 60 percent of women and girls are experiencing some form of violence,” Frédérique Butez, co-ordinator of MSF’s project in Jiwaka Province, told IPS. And “right now there is only one operational facility in Minj town, one facility providing family support centre services, which are integrated services within the public health facility with medical consultations and direct first aid and support. And then appropriate referrals to protection or legal services, according to the needs of the survivor,” she elaborated.

The suffering of survivors can be immense. Their ordeals may have involved weapons, such as knives or machetes, and resulted in chronic pain, sexually transmitted diseases, reproductive health issues, severe trauma or depression. The provision of external support services is crucial, too, as women frequently contend with stigma and pressure within families and communities to not report their abuse to authorities.

But that has not diminished Kilea’s resolve to make a difference. Gender-based violence (GBV) “is a very sensitive issue in our culture, which is taboo. So, when we go into the community, we talk with the women about their daily lives. We then talk about the root causes of GBV and start a conversation with the women. We create a space to share experiences,” Kilea explained.

MSF also trains village-health volunteers, critical first responders who are trusted within communities. “They are the heart of the project, because they are the focal point inside each community to give the first crucial aid care. They are the ones giving women access to the support and care that they need,” said Butez.

Jiwaka is a relatively new province established on the PNG mainland in 2012, and the provincial government, which provides for a rural-based population of about 343,987 people, is still developing its service outreach. “In terms of the scale of the needs and services, it is quite huge,” Butez said. But MSF, in partnership with Jiwaka Province, is using its expertise and resources to boost the skills of local healthcare workers and the capacity of medical and psychosocial services and support the government’s policy planning.

The scale of the public health needs is also recognised at the national level. Legislation, including the Criminal Code and 2013 Family Protection Act, outlaw domestic violence and violence against women and children. PNG’s gender-based violence response strategy promotes zero tolerance and outlines objectives, such as the development of effective response and service delivery to those affected and the scaling up of public message programs aimed at prevention.

Some political leaders have also spoken out. In March, Prime Minister James Marape told the PNG parliament that ‘domestic violence is a no amidst us. You cannot chest-beat as a leader if you are abusing your wife at home. Simple. Period,’ he declared, claiming that the country ‘will not progress if the fundamental fabric of our society is weakened.’

Nevertheless, women are still struggling to access timely support, and impunity continues for the vast majority of perpetrators. A progress review by the National Gender-Based Violence Secretariat last year reported a fall in the proportion of respondents witnessing domestic violence in their homes from 70 percent in 2016 to 51 percent in 2025. But, in contrast, it found a 210 percent increase in reported cases of violence against women since 1986 and a major shortfall in objectives being implemented. ‘Governance structures remain fragmented and under-resourced, with only 5 of 22 provinces having functional GBV secretariats and just 12 receiving annual funding,’ claims the report, while ‘the justice system is failing survivors with conviction rates for GBV cases as low as 0.5 percent in some regions.’

“Implementation is a challenge across the [Pacific Islands] region,” Tukuitonga emphasised. One hurdle is that strategic plans often exceed the budgetary capacity of governments, and “the second issue is that there are often not the skills locally to implement the plans effectively.”

Kilea, in coming to the aid of women and girls facing life-threatening situations every day, is part of efforts to address the latter. “I remember a woman I supported, who had three sons and one daughter. Her husband beat her regularly and took the money,’ Kilea recounted. She had no income and wasn’t working. She was also illiterate and uneducated and found it very difficult to know what to do. But Kilea was able to guide her on how to be patient and focus on her children while searching for opportunities to gain financial independence. “Soon she heard about an opportunity to do voluntary work, which has now led to daily paid work,” enabling her to leave the abusive relationship she was in and move to safer accommodation with her children.

Butez is buoyed to see the project leading to successes and being welcomed in the province. “The communities really accept us. And, as an organisation, it is very important that the trust with the communities is there, because without it we couldn’t work,” said Butez. “It is something that we are really proud of.”

The work of humanitarians will be critical now and in the future, to addressing the hardships and suffering that gender-based violence causes, with PNG’s GBV secretariat predicting that it could affect up to 8 million women in the country by 2046.

IPS UN Bureau Report

The UN General Assembly will soon vote – most likely favourably – on Bangladesh’s request to postpone the country’s graduation from the UN’s Least Developed Country (LDC) category, currently scheduled for November this year. The request for a 3-year extension was endorsed by the ECOSOC following the recommendation of the UN’s Committee for Development Policy (CDP). It is highly likely that the extension will also be justifiably granted to Nepal and Lao People’s Democratic Republic (Lao, PDR) – the two other countries scheduled to graduate with Bangladesh, given the fast deteriorating global economic situation and recent natural disaster in Nepal. In fact, the same argument for an extension may be admissible to all prospective graduating countries, such as Solomon Islands (2027), Cambodia (2029) and Senegal (2029).

Anis Chowdhury

The background

The United Nations established the LDC category in 1971 for low-income countries facing severe structural barriers to sustainable development and to direct special international support toward them such as preferential market access, financial aid, and technical cooperation. The idea of a special category for low-income, structurally weak countries originated in the first session of the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD) in 1964.

Since the creation of the LDC category, the UN organised five international conferences, the first being in 1981, to draw up comprehensive ten-year frameworks for supports with specific goals. The current programme is the Doha Programme of Action (DPOA) for the Decade 2022–2031, preceded by the Istanbul Programme of Action (IPOA) for the Decade 2011–2020.

The decision to establish a separate LDC category was undoubtedly commendable. The global consensus around the comprehensive action programmes also reflected the goodwill of the international community.

However, none of the programmes could reduce the vulnerability of LDCs. The number of LDCs steadily increased from the 1971 list of 25 countries, reaching a peak of 51 countries in 2003. The number now stands at 46, still nearly double that of the original list. Only 9 countries exited the list – one, Sikkim, through India’s annexation in 1975.

Although the inclusion of newly independent countries partly explains the lengthening of the LDC list, one cannot avoid the judgement of an overall failure of the international community’s good-intentioned programmes. This is especially so in light of the development successes of countries which did not join the group despite their eligibility.

The Reckoning

The failure became staggering by the time the international community met in Istanbul in 2011. After four decades since the special LDC category was created, only three countries – Botswana, Cabo Verde and Maldives – exited the group. Furthermore, the post-graduation experience has been disappointing.

For example, life-expectancy in Botswana, the first country to exit the LDC group, declined from 61.6 years in 1988 to 50.08 years in 2003, while it remains one of the most unequal countries in the world, holding the 9th highest income Gini coefficient globally. Botswana, although hailed for macroeconomic stability, failed to transform structurally with the share of manufacturing hovering below 6% of GDP, and it remains extremely vulnerable to fluctuations in international commodity markets, especially diamond. Thus, growth has declined significantly since the mid-2000s and the unemployment rate has increased to very high levels, around 26%.

Therefore, the core goals and targets of the IPOA included:

• Enable half of all LDCs to achieve graduation status by 2020.
• Attain sustained, equitable, and inclusive economic growth of at least 7% annually.
• Strengthen education, health, and nutrition.
• Build productive bases and diversify economies to generate decent jobs, especially for youth

Unfortunately, only 6 countries – Maldives, Samoa, Equatorial Guinea, Vanuatu, Bhutan and São Tomé and Príncipe graduated – during 2011-2024, and 3 countries – Bangladesh, Nepal and Lao PDR – became eligible to graduate this year. Again, the experience is not very encouraging for the graduated countries, while the fear of graduation has gripped the countries soon to graduate.

In 2021, UNCTAD concluded that 50 years of LDC experience is “sobering”. It found that half of the LDCs fell behind the rest of the world in terms of per capita income and other dimensions of development. Hence, the economic gap between these countries and the rest of the world has widened over the last 50 years.

Rejecting “LDC insult”

Zimbabwe, a land-locked country, rejected the UN’s recommendation to be classified as a LDC in 2006 despite facing severe economic hardships. Zimbabwe viewed the UN recommendation “to be downgraded to LDC status” as an insult, while the neighbouring land-locked Zambia was among the first group of countries classified as an LDC in 1971.

When Zimbabwe’s per capita GDP plunged to USD341 in 2008, resource-rich Zambia’s per capita GDP was around USD1,376. Today, after more than half a century as an LDC, the per capita GDP of Zambia, one of the world’s leading producers of copper, cobalt, and semi-precious gemstones like emeralds, is around USD1,318, while Zimbabwe’s per capita GDP recovered within a decade to around USD3,445 in 2017.

Vietnam, coming out of a quarter century long devasting war in 1975, facing the challenge of unifying the country during the worst global economic situation with a paltry per capita income of around USD85, chose not to join the LDC group. Instead of aid dependence, it opted for the trade and investment route to development. Today, its per capita GDP is approximately USD5,066, while Bangladesh which joined the LDC group in 1975 with a per capita income of around USD230 could manage to raise its per capita GDP to approximately USD2,960.

The Republic of Korea (ROK), one of the poorest countries of the world in the 1960s, could also join the LDC group in 1971 when it was created; but it did not. Maintaining its policy independence and choosing the trade and investment route, ROK has become a full-fledged developed country in 1996 (member of OECD) within three decades. It managed to increase its per capita GDP from USD158 in 1960 to USD36,227 in 2025.

What may have gone wrong?

UNCTAD attributed the “sobering” experience to the LDCs’ inability to exploit international support measures (ISMs) strategically to develop their productive capacity. Others offered different reasons such as failure to understand the complex development process and appreciate the dangers associated with increased integration of structurally weak economies to the rapidly changing global economic system.

Add to these, complicity. Countries joining the group took ISMs as guaranteed; they did not take serious steps to mobilise domestic resources, diversify their economies and expand markets. Take the case of Bangladesh, a country regarded as the best utiliser of ISMs.

Bangladesh’s tax-GDP ratio is dismally low, experiencing a decline from a peak of around 10% to around 7%. Its ready-made garment (RMG) sector’s dominance increased from around 67% of export earnings in 2018 when the country first met the graduation criteria to around 85% by 2025 while it should have been declining as the graduation deadline was approaching.

Bangladesh has also failed to diversify its export markets away from the EU and the USA, accounting for close to 80% of RMG exports. It does not have any meaningful trade agreement with any country or trading bloc, while Vietnam has 17 bilateral FTA and is a member of Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership as well as Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership, the world’s largest free trade agreement, covering roughly 30% of global GDP.

Ironically, the sector that propelled Bangladesh’s industrialisation, made the country more vulnerable. Worst, too big to ignore, the RMG sector has captured Bangladesh’s political and policy space. The CDP’s recommendation in favour of Bangladesh’s extension request has been made subject to the country’s commitment to reforms. However, political will for reforms may waver when the state is captured by a dominant sector.

Curse or Boon?

Thus, what was supposed to be a boon, for many LDCs, the category has become a curse, trapping them in a perpetual state of underdevelopment and vulnerability. It fits the narrative of William Easterly’s The White Man’s Burden; unfortunately, the international community may feel burdened and grant an extension to the “fearful” LDCs even when its “good-intentioned” efforts have produced so little good.

Anis Chowdhury, Emeritus Professor, Western Sydney University (Australia). He held senior UN positions in Bangkok and New York and served as Special Assistant to the Chief Advisor for Finance (with the status and rank of State Minister) in the Professor Yunus-led Interim Government. E-mail: anis.z.chowdhury@gmail.com; a.chowdhury@westernsydney.edu

IPS UN Bureau

Bangladesh is rightly praised for saving lives during cyclones and floods. Early warning systems, cyclone shelters and community mobilisation have turned once-catastrophic disasters into emergencies in which evacuation is often possible. But behind that success lies a quieter national failure: millions of people are being uprooted inside the country, often more than once, without a clear path back to secure homes, land or livelihoods.

Dr Mohammad Zaman

In Bangladesh, this distinction is not academic. A Rohingya family that fled Myanmar into Cox’s Bazar is rightly understood as part of a refugee crisis. A Bangladeshi family forced from a riverbank in Kazipur-Sirajganj, a cyclone-hit village in Barguna or Patuakhali, or a landslide-prone hillside in Chattogram is internally displaced. The first case draws international refugee law and a global humanitarian apparatus. The second is too often dismissed as local misfortune, seasonal migration or urban poverty—even when the displacement is forced, repeated and long-term.

The drivers are unmistakable. Monsoon floods, cyclones, storm surges and landslides trigger large annual movements. Slower disasters—riverbank erosion, salinity intrusion and coastal land loss—make return impossible for many families. Conflict and violence produce smaller annual movements, but protracted displacement in the Chittagong Hill Tracts remains unresolved. Development projects, urban evictions and infrastructure expansion can also uproot communities when resettlement and compensation fall short.

The numbers show why Bangladesh can no longer treat internal displacement as a temporary humanitarian footnote. The Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre reported about 2.4 million disaster-related displacements in Bangladesh in 2024, up from about 1.8 million in 2023. Monsoon floods alone triggered around 1.3 million movements, including an estimated 723,000 in Sylhet division in June. Cyclone Remal added roughly 1.1 million displacements, many of them pre-emptive evacuations that saved lives but still disrupted homes, schools, work and local economies. Conflict and violence accounted for about 2,800 displacements.

New national evidence makes the picture starker. The International Organization for Migration’s Displacement Tracking Matrix estimated 5 million disaster-induced IDPs in Bangladesh in its 2025 nationwide assessment. Nearly two-thirds had been displaced before April 2020, meaning many have lived with displacement for years, not weeks. One quarter were concentrated in just four districts—Chattogram, Sirajganj, Bhola and Noakhali—while Chattogram and Dhaka divisions together hosted about 40 per cent of the estimated displaced population.

These figures expose an unequal geography of risk. Coastal households face cyclones, storm surges, saline water and embankment failures. Riverine communities in the north and centre lose land to erosion. City slums absorb families who arrive after disasters, only to place them in flood-prone, insecure and poorly serviced neighbourhoods. Women, children, older people and persons with disabilities face particular barriers in evacuation, shelter access, documentation, employment and safe housing. Displacement is not simply movement from one place to another; it can strip people of assets, identity, social networks, education and political voice.

Bangladesh’s IDP crisis is best understood as a development crisis with humanitarian symptoms. The country is comparatively strong at emergency response: it can warn people, open shelters and move communities away from immediate danger. The harder work begins after the water recedes—restoring land, rebuilding homes, returning children to school, replacing fishing gear or livestock, securing tenure in safer locations, and preventing displaced families from being pushed into exploitative labour or unsafe housing. Without durable solutions—safe return, local integration or planned relocation—each disaster deepens the last.

Bangladesh has a policy foundation, including its National Strategy on Internal Displacement Management. What it lacks is implementation at the scale demanded by climate reality. Internal displacement must be built into land-use planning, social protection, climate adaptation, urban housing, education, health care and local government finance. Data systems should distinguish short-term evacuations from protracted displacement. Relief, relocation and resettlement must be transparent, participatory and centred on livelihoods—not merely a transfer from one unsafe place to another.

Ashrayan, Bangladesh’s flagship housing program for landless and homeless families, offers both a useful model and a warning. Since 1997, it has given many poor households a legal roof, a small plot and access to basic services. For families living for years on embankments, khas land, riverbanks or in insecure urban settlements, secure shelter can be life-changing. But Ashrayan also shows why housing cannot be mistaken for rehabilitation. A house in the wrong place—without work nearby, transport, drainage, schools, health care or local accountability—can become another form of confinement. The real test is not how many units are handed over, but whether families can rebuild livelihoods and belong to the communities that receive them.

The recurring failures are practical and political. Too many Ashrayan-style resettlement sites are chosen because public or khas land is available, not because the location offers a realistic route out of poverty. Weak construction, poor drainage, inadequate sanitation, limited maintenance and exposure to floods or erosion can undermine relocation itself. Governance failures—unclear beneficiary selection, local influence, informal payments, land disputes and weak grievance systems—can be just as damaging. When these problems occur, families may gain a roof while losing the social networks, markets and informal economies that kept them afloat. Some commute long distances; some rent out or abandon the unit; some move again. That is not a failure of the displaced. It is a warning about policy design.

The future will be harsher if policy remains reactive. Climate change will intensify the hazards that already uproot families—heavier rainfall, stronger storm surges, sea-level rise, salinity and river erosion—while urbanisation will keep pulling displaced people into already strained cities such as Dhaka, Chattogram and secondary urban centres. Bangladesh has proved through cyclone preparedness that public policy can save lives. Its next test is whether those who survive disaster can also recover dignity, income and security afterward.

That begins with treating IDPs as rights-holders, not as casualties of bad weather. Bangladesh must move beyond emergency shelter toward secure housing, restored livelihoods and accountable national systems backed by climate finance. Resettlement must be written into land policy, local budgets, urban planning, social protection and climate adaptation before the next flood or cyclone arrives. The choice is stark: displacement can remain a conveyor belt into poverty, or it can become a national commitment to safety, citizenship and a future people can rebuild.

Dr. Mohammad Zaman is an internationally recognized scholar and practitioner in resettlement and development projects across Asia and Africa. His work brings together academic scholarship, field-based practice, social safeguards, and policy engagement, with a particular focus on how affected communities experience, negotiate, and reshape development interventions. Dr. Zaman’s most recent book is Anatomy of Resettlement: Ethnographic Accounts and Stories in Retrospect (Bloomsbury Academic, 2025).

IPS UN Bureau

Indigenous Kakataibo patrol in the Yamino community forest. A new report titled Collective Power documents the deaths of people who stood against environmental destruction, land grabs, illegal logging, mining projects and other threats to their communities. Credit: Global Witness

By Umar Manzoor Shah
LONDON & SRINAGAR, India, Sep 16 2026 (IPS)

At least 124 land and environmental defenders were killed around the world in 2025 while protecting forests, rivers, farmland and Indigenous territories, according to a new report by Global Witness that warns violence against activists remains widespread even as recorded killings have declined from previous years.

The report, titled Collective Power, documents the deaths of people who stood against environmental destruction, land grabs, illegal logging, mining projects and other threats to their communities. It says the 124 killings recorded in 2025 bring the total number of land and environmental defenders killed or disappeared since Global Witness began tracking such cases in 2012 to 2,375.

While the number of killings fell from 142 deaths and four disappearances documented in 2024, Global Witness cautioned that the decline should not be viewed as evidence that defenders are becoming safer, and onimously, the killing and intimidation have serious consequences for the environment.

“Defenders are the world’s eyes and ears on the ground. It’s thanks to them that we know when ecosystems are being destroyed, where forests are being cleared or rivers polluted,” Toby Hill, land and environmental defenders investigator and lead author, said. “The violence that defenders face, including killings in the most extreme cases, reflects a much broader struggle over the world’s land and resources. But beyond these tragic stories, we can’t forget the thousands of defenders around the world who are working every day to protect their territories and cultures under increasing pressure.”

The report said, “Every one of these deaths represents an attempt, in the most brutal fashion, to impose a chilling effect on movements that resist environmental and human rights abuses. We remember the families, friends and communities who have been left devastated by each attack.”

Researchers argue that the real number of killings is likely much higher because many attacks occur in remote areas, conflict zones and countries where civil society groups face intimidation for reporting abuses. According to the report, difficulties in documenting cases are particularly severe in parts of Africa and Asia, as well as increasingly in Latin America.

The findings reveal a global struggle over land, natural resources and environmental protection, with Indigenous peoples and small-scale farmers bearing the heaviest burden.

Indigenous women walk along a river in the Amazon rainforest. According to Global Witness, Indigenous peoples and small-scale farmers accounted for nearly three-quarters of the land, and environmental defenders killed globally in 2025. The report highlights the growing risks faced by communities defending their lands, livelihoods and ecosystems from environmental destruction and resource exploitation. Credit: Global Witness

Nearly three-quarters of those killed in 2025 were Indigenous people or small-scale farmers defending their land rights and livelihoods. The report found that 47 victims were small-scale farmers and 44 were Indigenous people. Three victims were Afro-descendant defenders.

Among the dead were seven members of Indigenous guard systems, community-based groups that patrol and protect ancestral territories from illegal activities and outside encroachment. In five of those cases, researchers identified links to organised crime, highlighting what the report describes as a growing overlap between environmental conflicts and criminal networks.

Despite this, Indigenous people continue to defend their environments.

“Defending our territory is important to us as a community and as a people, and we’re proud to support the climate that we all depend on. In our culture, the work of defending our resources and territory is taught from an early age. But for this next generation coming up, the work is more dangerous than ever,” Segundo Ispón, commander of Peru’s Kakataibo Indigenous Guard, said.

Global Witness said the killings represent only the most visible form of repression. Beneath them lies what human rights groups call a “hidden iceberg” of threats that include criminal charges, surveillance, harassment, smear campaigns and online abuse.

“Increasingly, social media is weaponised to discredit and harass defenders, eroding public trust and isolating them from their communities,” the report noted.

The organisation suggested that some governments and powerful interests may be relying more on non-lethal forms of repression, which can silence opposition without attracting the international attention that often follows a murder.

The report also highlights a broader deterioration in civic freedoms. Of the 15 countries where killings were documented, 10 were categorised as “repressed” by the CIVICUS Monitor, a global tracker of civic freedoms. Nicaragua was listed in the most restrictive category, described as “closed”.

Asia emerged as one of the regions where environmental defenders face increasing pressure through legal and political means.

A major section of the report focuses on Indonesia, where Dayak Indigenous communities in West Kalimantan have resisted industrial expansion, land grabs and deforestation. According to Global Witness, community leaders and Indigenous defenders have faced criminalisation while attempting to protect forests and customary lands.

The report argues that such cases reflect a wider regional trend in which defenders are increasingly targeted through courts, police investigations and administrative actions rather than direct violence alone. It cites concerns raised by human rights organisations regarding the criminalisation of environmental activism across parts of Asia.

In the Philippines, environmental defenders Jhed Tamano and Jonila Castro are highlighted as examples of activists who continued their advocacy despite legal and political pressure. Their experiences are presented as part of a larger pattern in which defenders face reputational attacks and criminal allegations linked to their activism.

The report also examines Peru, where members of the Kakataibo Indigenous people have developed Indigenous guard systems to protect their territory from growing threats associated with organised crime and environmental exploitation. The movement is presented as an example of collective protection developed by communities that feel abandoned by state institutions.

Across Latin America, which has historically recorded some of the highest numbers of killings of environmental defenders, the report documents continuing violence, disappearances and intimidation.

It revisits the disappearance of Mexican defenders Ricardo Lagunes and Antonio Díaz, whose case has become emblematic of the dangers faced by people challenging powerful economic interests. Three years after their disappearance, United Nations experts were still calling for truth and justice.

The report also highlights the unresolved disappearance of Chilean Indigenous defender Julia Chuñil. According to Global Witness, her family and legal representatives have faced mounting pressure while continuing to seek answers.

“Despite this pressure, Julia’s family continues to fight for truth and justice,” the report said. “They are still searching for their mother, organising protests, pursuing legal challenges and bringing international attention to the case.”

In Nigeria, defenders protecting the Ekuri Forest in Cross River State continued to face intimidation, arrest and detention after speaking out against illegal logging. The report said community leaders were targeted following complaints linked to logging interests but were later released after intervention from environmental organisations and lawyers.

“The arrests were widely viewed as an attempt to silence efforts to defend tropical forests and community forest rights,” the report stated.

The gender dimension of environmental activism also features prominently in the findings. Of the 124 defenders whose deaths were verified in 2025, 109 were men, 14 were women and one was identified as non-binary. However, researchers stressed that women defenders often experience different forms of violence that are less visible but equally damaging.

The report cites data from the Mesoamerican Initiative of Women Human Rights Defenders showing more than 30,000 non-lethal attacks against women defenders in Mexico and Central America between 2012 and 2023. These included harassment, threats, surveillance, psychological abuse and smear campaigns.

The report also expresses concern about the unprecedented fall in foreign aid seen in 2025 – driven by budget cuts by the governments of the United States, Germany, the United Kingdom and other traditional donors – impacting thousands of human rights organisations, drastically reducing the global pool of support to communities acting in the depths of rainforests and other secluded ecosystems.

“The effects of these budget cuts are not abstract. In Colombia, projects working to promote and protect human rights and support defenders have been hit by the sudden drop in foreign aid, particularly from the U.S. When foreign aid retreats, Indigenous Peoples and small-scale farmers can be left with fewer resources and less support as they defend the forests, rivers and other ecosystems that sustain their communities and help keep the global climate stable,” Juliana Vélez Echeverri, a senior campaigner at Global Witness, said.

Global Witness says the solution requires more than investigations into individual killings. The organisation is calling for stronger legal protections for Indigenous peoples, recognition of land rights, accountability for corporations and criminal networks, and greater support for community-led protection systems.

The report argues that environmental defenders are not only protecting local communities but also safeguarding forests, biodiversity and ecosystems that are critical in the fight against climate change. Their work, researchers say, often benefits society far beyond the places where they live.

The publication opens with a dedication to those who continue that work despite the risks.

“This report is dedicated to all those individuals, communities and organisations bravely speaking out or taking action to defend their rights to land and a clean, healthy and sustainable environment,” it says. “Last year, 124 people were murdered for doing this work.”

IPS UN Bureau Report

Central Asian states mark the 20th anniversary of the Nuclear-Weapon-Free Zone Treaty with a joint foreign ministers' statement Credit: Kazakhstan MFA

By Katsuhiro Asagiri
TOKYO, Japan, Sep 11 2026 (IPS)

Twenty years after five Central Asian states signed a landmark treaty banning nuclear weapons across their region, their foreign ministers have used the anniversary to warn that faltering arms-control agreements, nuclear modernization and deepening international mistrust are placing global security under growing strain.

Central Asia Nuclear Free Zones

The ministers described the treaty as a symbol of Central Asia’s transformation from a region where nuclear weapons were once tested and deployed into one of the leaders of global disarmament efforts.

That history gives the anniversary weight. Semipalatinsk — now Semey — was the Soviet Union’s principal nuclear testing ground, where 456 tests were conducted between 1949 and 1989 across a site roughly the size of Belgium. An estimated 1.5 million people were affected by the fallout, and the health consequences have passed through three generations. Kazakhstan closed the site on August 29, 1991.

Semipalatinsk Former Nuclear Weapon Test site. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri

Warning After Another Failed NPT Review

The anniversary arrives at a difficult moment for the global nuclear order. The ministers reaffirmed the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) as the cornerstone of efforts to prevent proliferation and ultimately eliminate nuclear weapons, but expressed regret that its Eleventh Review Conference, held in New York from April 27 to May 22 this year, ended without a substantive outcome — the third consecutive review conference to close without consensus, following those of 2015 and 2022.

They voiced particular concern over insufficient progress toward disarmament under Article VI of the NPT, the cessation of key arms-control arrangements and an alarming trend toward the modernization of nuclear arsenals, placing special responsibility on nuclear-weapon states and calling for new, verifiable mechanisms to prevent a renewed arms race.

Even as the review process stalled, the zones drew attention as one of the regime’s more durable achievements. At a Kazakh-hosted event on the margins of the conference, Robin Geiß, Director of the UN Institute for Disarmament Research, credited the Central Asian zone with a distinctive contribution in linking security to development, environmental protection and public health, while Mark Melamed of the Nuclear Threat Initiative cautioned that the zones’ achievements cannot be assumed to endure.

CTBT at 30 — Still Not in Force

On September 24, the CTBT will mark 30 years since it opened for signature. Yet it has still not entered into force. The Central Asian states called for its earliest possible entry into force and urged all states to refrain from any action that could undermine the norm against nuclear explosive testing.

The appeal follows a joint statement issued on August 29 — the anniversary of the test site’s closure, observed by the United Nations as the International Day against Nuclear Tests — in which Kazakh Foreign Minister Yermek Kosherbayev and Robert Floyd, Executive Secretary of the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty Organization, urged renewed action to end testing permanently. Much of the treaty’s machinery already functions despite its legal limbo: 308 facilities have been certified, bringing the International Monitoring System to more than 90 percent completion.

More than 300 International Monitoring System (IMS) facilities certified out of the 337 the CTBTO has planned are already in operation. Credit: CTBTO

The ministers also welcomed the 2014 signing by the five NPT-recognized nuclear-weapon states of the protocol providing negative security assurances to the zone. Four have ratified it; the ministers expressed hope that the United States would complete its ratification.

A Regional Model in a Fragmenting Nuclear Order

The declaration went beyond treaties to emphasize disarmament education, backing continued observance of the International Day for Disarmament and Non-Proliferation Awareness — a Kyrgyz initiative marked annually on March 5, the date the NPT entered into force — and stressing the importance of involving young people.

Nuclear-weapon-free zones cannot substitute for the disarmament obligations of states that possess nuclear arsenals. But the Semipalatinsk Treaty demonstrates that non-nuclear states are not merely spectators in the global nuclear order: by acting collectively they can create binding regional norms and press nuclear-weapon states for security assurances.

Central Asia has also shown that such zones can become more than geographic prohibitions. The five states have signed memoranda of understanding with the African Commission on Nuclear Energy and with the Agency for the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons in Latin America and the Caribbean, which administers the 1967 Treaty of Tlatelolco, and Kazakhstan hosted in Astana in August 2024 the second meeting of representatives of all existing zones. The limits are equally clear: three decades of advocacy have not produced a zone in the Middle East, which the ministers again called for.

Equally important is the link between diplomacy and human experience. The Nevada-Semipalatinsk movement, which helped drive the test site’s closure, showed that public pressure could move nuclear policy — and for Kazakhstan, cooperation with civil society has since been less a supplement to disarmament diplomacy than part of its foundation.

September 8 carries another anniversary. On that date in 1957, before 50,000 young people gathered at a stadium in Yokohama, Josei Toda, second president of the Soka Gakkai, issued a declaration calling for the abolition of nuclear weapons, condemning them as an absolute evil that threatened the right of people everywhere to exist and entrusting their abolition to the next generation. The peace activity of Soka Gakkai International (SGI), a lay Buddhist organization, traces its origin to that declaration.

A Group photo of participants of the regional conference on the humanitarian consequences of nuclear weapons and nuclear-free-zone in Central Asia held on August 29, 2023. Credit: Jibek Joly TV Channel

Official portrait of Kassym-Jomart Tokayev. Credit: President of the Republic of Kazakhstan

For Japanese readers the connection is direct. Hiroshima and Nagasaki experienced the use of nuclear weapons in war; Semipalatinsk experienced the consequences of testing them. During his visit to Japan in December 2025, President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev warned at United Nations University in Tokyo that nuclear risks were rising again, invoking all three names in a call for concrete steps to reduce nuclear danger.

Twenty years after the treaty was signed, its significance may lie not only in what Central Asia chose to reject, but in what it has continued to build — a regional security architecture that seeks to make nuclear weapons less central, less legitimate and, ultimately, unnecessary.

Note: This article is brought to you by　INPS Japan in collaboration with Soka Gakkai International in consultative status with ECOSOC.

IPS UN Bureau

On 2 September 2026, UNICEF staff and partners are distributing recreation kits at Child-Friendly Spaces (CFS) at the holding center for children affected by the recent flash floods in Nuwakot District, Bagmati Province, Nepal. Credit: UNICEF/Laxmi Prasad Ngakhusi

By Shreya Komar
UNITED NATIONS, Sep 11 2026 (IPS)

Two weeks after devastating floods struck Nepal, communities across the country are still struggling to meet basic needs as humanitarian efforts continue. The disaster, triggered by a glacial collapse, has become one of Nepal’s deadliest in recent years, leaving widespread destruction in its wake.

As of Wednesday, 1,367 people had been confirmed dead, while 5,132 remained missing, including 587 foreign nationals. 13,646 people have been rescued, but many families are still waiting for news about their loved ones. Search operations remain ongoing, including efforts to reach people who may still be trapped in tunnels and other difficult-to-access areas.

The scale of the destruction has made delivering aid particularly challenging. Floodwaters have damaged homes, roads, bridges, and other essential infrastructure, leaving some communities isolated. The Nepalese government has been using military helicopters to drop aid into areas that remain difficult to reach, while temporary bridges are also being constructed to reconnect communities that have received insufficient assistance.

Families urgently need food, clean drinking water, shelter and access to healthcare. Health services are particularly important for vulnerable groups, including an estimated 1,600 pregnant women who are expected to give birth soon. Ensuring that these women can reach medical facilities and receive appropriate prenatal and emergency care is a major concern.

Mental health support is another pressing need that could become increasingly important as the immediate emergency begins to subside. Survivors have lost homes, livelihoods and, in many cases, family members.

On Wednesday September 9, UN Resident Coordinator for Nepal Lila Pieters Yahia, briefed reporters at UN Headquarters on the ongoing humanitarian efforts by the UN and the Nepalese government.

“People were just so depressed,” Yahia reflected after her visit to the affected communities.

Many people are also coping with the uncertainty of not knowing whether missing relatives are alive. Reuniting separated families and children has therefore become another important part of the humanitarian response.

The United Nations and its humanitarian partners launched a USD 49.6 million flash appeal last Friday to provide life-saving assistance to people affected by the disaster. The appeal is intended to support critical needs including food, clean water, logistics and other immediate relief. So far, approximately USD 22 million has been pledged, leaving a significant funding gap.

The Nepal Red Cross Society is leading much of the humanitarian response, with support from the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies, the International Committee of the Red Cross and other humanitarian organizations. Aid is being distributed through a combination of government agencies, community organizations and non-governmental organizations. However, humanitarian officials continue to warn that access remains one of the greatest obstacles to reaching people in need.

Yahia described the destruction as an example of the increasingly severe losses faced by countries vulnerable to climate change. “The devastation Nepal has experienced is an extraordinary, stark illustration of the losses and damages that climate-vulnerable countries are increasingly facing,” she said.

Nepal’s experience has also renewed calls for greater international action on climate change and climate justice. As a mountainous country particularly vulnerable to changing weather patterns and the effects of a warming climate, Nepal faces a disproportionate burden.

Despite the enormous challenges, Yahia says aid is reaching many affected communities, and survivors continue to demonstrate hope. “People are still searching for family members they know they may never find,” she said, highlighting the resilience keeping people strong. Yet thousands of people remain in need, and the destruction of transportation networks means that reaching the most isolated communities will take time.

“My plea tonight to the international community: we need to demonstrate solidarity with the people of Nepal,” Yahia emphasized.

For Nepal, the emergency is far from over. The immediate priority remains saving lives and providing food, water, shelter and access to healthcare. As communities begin the long process of rebuilding, the country will also need sustained international support to recover from one of its most destructive disasters.

IPS UN Bureau Report

Since the Taliban seized power in August 2021, girls have been banned from schooling beyond the primary level and women’s employment has been severely restricted. Credit: Learning Together.

By External Source
KABUL, Sep 10 2026 (IPS)

Many wonder why men in Afghanistan do not protest when women’s rights are trampled upon. In reality, many are rebelling behind the scenes, for instance, by helping their daughters get an education.

“The only thing I can leave my daughter is an education”, says Yaser.

Every day before leaving for work, he checks whether the internet is working. He does this not for himself, but for his 18-year-old daughter, Mariam. Mariam has been unable to attend school for five years, but she can still study online, provided the internet connection holds.

Mariam shares this plight with two million other girls. When the Taliban seized power in August 2021, it became the only country in the world to ban girls from schooling beyond the primary level and severely restrict women’s employment. Afghan women have never been as invisible as they are now.

Other men I have interviewed have reached the same conclusion. Instead of protesting, they have begun supporting their daughters' studies at home. There are valid grounds for their fears, too

“I cannot reopen schools, but I encourage my daughter to continue her studies online. I encourage her to remain hopeful,” says Yaser.

Both within Afghanistan and internationally, many have wondered why men have not protested, even though their daughters have been deprived of educational opportunities. Why have they remained silent? But the question can also be framed differently: Have men been doing something else instead of staying all quiet?

To find answers, I spoke with fathers, uncles, teachers, and principals in Kabul, Herat, Mazar-e-Sharif, and several other provinces. I realized that what appears from the outside to be silence and acceptance of the situation is actually a form of quiet resistance.

Fear is a major reason why men remain silent.

“If I protest publicly, the Taliban will come to my home at night, beat me up, and take me away. What would happen to my wife and daughters then? But I can ensure my daughters are able to study online. That way, I won’t have to be ashamed of myself one day for having done nothing.”

Yaser tells the story of a man who criticized the closure of girls’ schools on Facebook.

“Two days later, the Taliban came and took him away. His family was beaten, too. The man wasn’t released until months later. I am terrified of that happening and don’t want the same thing to happen to my own family.”

Reports from human rights organizations corroborate Yaser’s account. The Taliban have detained and issued warnings to journalists and activists who have criticized the regime. They have been threatened with harsher measures if the criticism does not stop.

Ahmad, a Kabul resident, is the father of two daughters. He lost his job when the Taliban came to power and now takes on odd jobs whenever he can find them. Putting food on the table for his family is a daily struggle.

When I ask why he has never protested on behalf of his daughters, his answer is brief: “My wife and children would starve if I protested and got arrested. But I can send my daughter to a neighbor’s house to study. Before the Taliban took power, our neighbor was a university professor. Now, she teaches girls in her home.”

“It might not be a substitute for school, but it’s better than nothing”, says Ahmad

Ahmad falls silent for a moment before continuing his train of thought: “People have protested before. Women have marched in the streets but what did that change? Many of them are still paying a heavy price for it.”

Other men I have interviewed have reached the same conclusion. Instead of protesting, they have begun supporting their daughters’ studies at home. There are valid grounds for their fears, too.

For instance, in Herat, the Taliban detained university lecturer Qadoos Khatib and civil society activist Fayaz Ghori for posting videos and messages on social media advocating for girls’ education. Both emphasized that Afghanistan cannot develop without educating women.

Another case also came up repeatedly in my interviews.

University professor and former journalist Ismail Mashal refused to remain silent about the ban on girls’ education. He tore up his university diplomas during a live television broadcast and later distributed thousands of books to girls and women on the streets of Kabul.

The Taliban detained and brutally beat him. The books were confiscated.

For many of the men I interviewed, these events were not merely news stories, but reminders of what can happen if one speaks out. Many are looking for other ways to help their daughters.

Amir, 45, from Mazar-e-Sharif, never had the chance to go to school himself. He cannot read or write and has been working since childhood.

“My daughter means the world to me. I don’t want her to miss out on an education, the way I did”, says Amir.

Amir knew that some girls were studying online, but he couldn’t afford a mobile phone or an internet connection. So, he borrowed money from relatives to pay for them. Now, he works in a shop during the day and puts in extra hours at a tailor’s shop in the evenings to pay off his debt.

“If I don’t do everything I can for my daughter’s education today, what will she have for tomorrow?”

Amir owns no home and has no savings.

“The only thing I can leave my daughter is an education.”

It is not just about the girls; it is about the future of Afghanistan.

Farid, 38, does not have a daughter of his own, but every Friday he helps his 16-year-old niece with her studies at her home. Farid brings her books and downloads learning materials from the internet.

His niece’s dream was to become a doctor, and Farid does not want to let that dream die.

Farid believes that supporting girls is not solely the duty of fathers. It should be a shared responsibility for everyone.

Of the people I interviewed, the one who took the greatest risk was the principal of a private school. She wants to remain anonymous.

She refused to comply when the order came to stop educating girls after the sixth grade. Instead, she kept the girls officially registered as sixth graders for another two years and continued teaching them.

She knew she would lose everything if she were caught. When I asked if she was afraid, she smiled.

“Of course I was afraid. I have often had nightmares about it. But I couldn’t do otherwise when I saw the girls crying because their schooling was coming to an end.”

There are also those who believe girls do not need much education.

“Girls will get married eventually anyway. Basic literacy is enough for them,” said one man who did not wish to give his name. However, he was in the minority among the men I interviewed.

Most wanted educational opportunities for girls. They have not been able to change government policy, but they have found other ways to help their daughters continue their studies.

Excerpt:

Kamikawa Yoko, MP for Japan and Chair of AFPPD at the opening of the Asian Forum of Parliamentarians on Population and Development (AFPPD) annual conference held in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Credit: APDA

By Cecilia Russell
KUALA LUMPUR & JOHANNESBURG, South Africa, Sep 10 2026 (IPS)

“As parliamentarians, we should understand that behind every demographic indicator is a human story,” Kamikawa Yoko, MP Japan and Chair of AFPPD, reminded lawmakers in her opening address to the Asian Forum of Parliamentarians on Population and Development (AFPPD) annual conference held in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

The conference, with the theme of ‘Parliamentary Leadership for the Future: An All-of-Society Approach to the Care Economy and Demographic Resilience,’ took place in the shadow of the devastating floods in Nepal, which Dr. Toshima Karki, MP Nepal, described as an “alarm from the roof of the world.” The impact of climate change on women, the elderly, and youth underpinned the concerns of many of the parliamentarians over the two-day conference.

Alexander Nanta Linggi, Minister of Works, Malaysia, opened with a strong statement about what parliamentary leadership means for the future.

“An all-of-society approach to the care economy and demographic resilience is ultimately about people,” he said.

“Parliamentarians have a unique role. We are not merely lawmakers. We are voices for our communities. We see the struggles of families caring for aging parents. We hear the concerns of young people uncertain about their future. We witness the inequalities that still affect women and vulnerable groups. This is why parliamentary leadership matters. We have the responsibility to translate lived realities into meaningful policy,” Linggi elaborated, adding that “a caring society is not a cost to be borne; it is an investment in social stability, economic resilience, and national well-being.”

Pio Smith, Deputy Executive Director of UNFPA and UN Assistant Secretary-General, noted the stark reality of fewer resources and the growing global polarization that parliamentarians were caught in.

“Doing more with less cannot mean doing less for those who need us most. It means making smarter choices, strengthening systems, improving efficiency, and ensuring that limited resources are directed toward investments that deliver lasting impact,” Smith said.

Dr. Toshima Karki, a member of Nepal’s House of Representatives, speaking at the AFPPD annual conference held in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Credit: APDA

Officially opening the conference, the President of the Senate of Malaysia, Dato Awang Bemee Awang Ali Basah, argued that “Demographic resilience requires an all-of-society approach. No single ministry or government can solve these challenges—we need government, parliament, the private sector, civil society, academia, communities, families, and individuals working together.”

During the two-day conference, there were many powerful presentations, intertwining social challenges of youth, women, and the elderly and climate change.

Howard Lee Chuan How, MP Malaysia and Secretary-General of AFPPD Global, said the organization’s move to Kuala Lumpur should mark a new phase of globalization. AFPPD’s 30 national committees represent countries with a combined population of more than 4.3 billion people, over half of humanity.

“The stories of our people are therefore not peripheral to the global debate. They are a major part of the human story. The solutions we develop across our region, from aging and fertility to youth, gender, care, and climate resilience, have the potential to help shape solutions for the world,” Lee said.

For Syerleena Abdul Rashid, MP Malaysia, this is deeply personal. She started her speech by telling the conference that her mother, aged 81, grew up without air conditioners and weather apps.

“She now also lives with dementia, so when the temperature rises, I cannot simply just send her a text message saying, ‘Mom, please drink more water.’ She may not read it, she may not remember it, and she may not recognize that she’s becoming dehydrated or unwell.”

Syerleena listed the issues.

By 2030, 15% of Malaysians will be 60 or older.

In Malaysia, floods in November and December 2024 affected over 137,000 people, including 40,000 displaced families.

Older persons face specific risks such as loss of medication, mobility challenges during evacuation, and the inability to access digital warnings.

Then she reminded parliamentarians of the policy gaps, including age-unfriendly disaster relief centers, which lack ramps, quiet spaces for dementia, or proper medical storage, and lack of data around age groups and specialized welfare checks for the elderly during heatwaves, and challenged them to fix these.

But it is not only the elderly that are affected.

Dolores Devesi, Director of the International Planned Parenthood Federation (IPPF) Sub-Regional Office for the Pacific, reminded the audience that the impact of a loss of time in school could have lifelong impacts.

“Schools become more than a place of learning. They connect girls to peers, and they also become a center of information sharing amongst peers… When these connections are interrupted, risks rise, and we already know… that gender-based violence, sexual exploitation and abuse, unintended pregnancy, STIs, early marriage, and so forth, also come into play.”

Counting the cost of young girls and adolescents is crucial, she says.

“When a cyclone destroys a school, when flooding cuts off a community, when families are displaced, we naturally count the infrastructure and the economic cost, but the questions we need to be asking ourselves are how many young girls stop going to school, how many adolescent-age children have stopped going to school, why, how come they haven’t returned to school, and why are they still not in school? What happened to them and to their safety while they are away?”

Sahibzada Sibghatullah, MP Pakistan, said it was crucial to count the youth in the impacts of climate change; making up 64% of the country’s population, they bear the brunt of lost education and economic stability.

“A flood closes a school, and a child loses a year of learning that she or he may never recover back. A flood destroys a small shop, and a young man loses the only job he had. A flood cuts a road, and a young mother cannot reach a health center. And when a family loses everything, it is very often the daughter who is taken out of school first and married early. These are climate impacts. We must call them by that name.”

And he noted—it was the youth that rebuilt after the floods too.

“Let me end with this: In Pakistan, when a flood takes a village, it is the young who rebuilt it. They do not ask whose factory caused the warming. They do not ask who failed to cut emissions. They only ask to be counted. Let us count them. Let us fund them. Let us legislate with them, and not merely about them.”

A group photo of parliamentarians and delegates at the recent Asian Forum of Parliamentarians on Population and Development (AFPPD) annual conference held in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Credit: APDA

It was during question time that Karki said she could barely conceal the anger she felt about the floods that left at least 1,300 people and more than 5,500 missing.

“Today I come with a warning from the Himalayas. I’m here to tell you the snow is disappearing. The snow is disappearing, and with it, the safety of my people.”

She listed the impact on roads, bridges, homes, schools, health posts, businesses, and hydropower projects that took decades to build and were destroyed in minutes.

“However, this is not simply a disaster. This is an alarm from the roof of the world.”

She continued, “Nepal contributes only around 0.03 percent of the global greenhouse emissions. Yet it is among one of the highly vulnerable countries to the impacts of climate change.”

“We did not build the smokestacks. We did not burn the coal. Yet our children are compelled to bury their parents and parents to their children under the debris of a crisis authored elsewhere.”

“Climate crisis for Nepal for us is not only an environmental crisis; it’s a developmental crisis. It’s an economic crisis, a food crisis, a public health crisis, and ultimately, it’s a crisis of justice.”

The meeting was organized by the Asian Forum of Parliamentarians on Population and Development (AFPPD) and the Asian Population and Development Association (APDA). It was supported by the Japan Trust Fund (JTF), the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA), AFPPD Malaysia, and the International Planned Parenthood Federation (IPPF).

IPS UN Bureau Report

Protests during the World Conference against Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia and Related Intolerance, held in Durban, South Africa, from 31 August to 7 September 2001. Credit: NCDHR

By Paul Divakar Namala
LONDON, Sep 8 2026 (IPS)

My name is Paul Divakar Namala. I am the Executive Director of The Inclusivity Project and Convenor of the Global Forum of Communities Discriminated on Work and Descent. My work focuses on communities whose social status, occupations and exclusion are inherited across generations through caste, analogous hierarchies and systems rooted in traditional slavery.

Durban also taught us that affected communities must speak for themselves. They must not be treated merely as victims or sources of testimony, but as human rights defenders and leaders who define the problem and shape the solution

I am a Dalit. Dalits were historically treated as “untouchable” and placed at the bottom of, or outside, the caste hierarchy. This can shape every part of life: access to a common water source, where a child sits at school, where a family may live, what work a person is expected to perform and whether others will eat with or even be seen with them.

Poverty is widespread in South Asia, but its burden falls disproportionately on Dalits because caste restricts access to land, education, dignified employment, public services and political power.

Inherited hierarchies remain deeply entrenched

Across South Asia, constitutional guarantees and democratic institutions coexist with caste discrimination and practices of untouchability.

These persist in villages and cities, and in public institutions, private workplaces and corporations. Dalits may face threats or violence for asserting land rights, entering places of worship, marrying across caste, accessing common resources, seeking education or standing for elected office.

Dalits in South Asia are not alone. Roma communities in Europe and beyond, Burakumin in Japan, Haratine and other communities affected by traditional slavery in the Sahel, Osu communities in Nigeria, Quilombola communities in Brazil and other communities in Latin America experience distinct histories and realities.

They should not be collapsed into a single category. Yet many face structurally connected patterns: inherited stigma and social status, endogamy, segregation in housing and education, exclusion from land and decent work, confinement to dangerous or degrading occupations, trafficking and forced labour, and backlash violence when they resist. We describe these peoples, in all their diversity, as Communities Discriminated on Work and Descent, or CDWD.

Reconnecting with my identity

Where I grew up in India, my family faced repeated attacks as we asserted our rights, including rights over public land. When I was 21, a petrol-bomb attack took the life of my mother.

Only as I grew older did I understand how much of what happened to my family was connected to caste. My father taught me that our purpose should not be limited to seeking justice for ourselves; we had to dismantle the structures that allow such abuses to continue. That teaching guided me away from vengeance and towards challenging the social norms and caste structures that treat some human beings as inferior, exploit their vulnerability and assign them a life of servitude.

Together with my spouse, who came from a different caste, I helped build a community of human rights defenders. For too long, Dalits were portrayed only as victims or survivors. We are also organisers, advocates and defenders of human rights. This work began more than four decades ago, when I was in my twenties.

In 1998, together with leaders from across India, we formed the National Campaign on Dalit Human Rights. We wanted caste-based discrimination and violence to be documented and discussed nationally and internationally. Looking back, I realise how groundbreaking that effort was, especially with so few resources.

Bringing caste to Durban

When we learned that the United Nations was organising a World Conference Against Racism, our immediate response was: “We have to be there.” We were new to these international processes. We contacted people working on caste discrimination and were invited to a preparatory meeting in Bellagio that helped shape the agenda for Durban.

At Bellagio, many participants supported putting caste on the agenda, including Pierre Sané, then Secretary General of Amnesty International. Civil society succeeded in making caste a major issue in the Durban process, but several Asian governments resisted its explicit inclusion in the final Durban Declaration and Programme of Action, arguing that it would target their countries or interfere in internal matters.

Although the final Declaration did not contain the explicit recognition we sought, what the movement achieved was extraordinary. Durban gave unprecedented international visibility to caste discrimination and helped move Dalit rights from the margins towards the centre of international human rights debate.

Dalit activists were present in large numbers, carrying documentation, testimonies, drums and protest across the conference grounds. People approached us and said, sometimes awkwardly but with genuine solidarity, “You are untouchable? Let me hug you.” Those encounters showed both how unfamiliar the issue was internationally and how quickly human connection could challenge the stigma imposed upon us.

Activists protest caste and descent-based discrimination during the World Conference against Racism in Durban, South Africa, held from 31 August to 7 September 2001. Placards call attention to caste, racism and the struggle for Dalit rights. Credit: NCDHR

Solidarity, resistance and the unfinished agenda

Over the years, we have connected with communities and advocates in Somalia, Ethiopia, Kenya, Niger, Mauritania and Nigeria, with Roma movements across Europe and beyond, and with Quilombola and other communities in Latin America.

Their histories are different, but their struggles reveal how inherited status, stigmatised work and exclusion can reinforce one another across generations. Working together makes these structures visible and prevents governments and institutions from excusing them in the name of culture or tradition.

Durban also taught us that affected communities must speak for themselves. They must not be treated merely as victims or sources of testimony, but as human rights defenders and leaders who define the problem and shape the solution. Solidarity does not require us to claim that every oppression is identical. It requires us to respect distinct histories while recognising common structures of dehumanisation and standing together against them.

The fight is far from over. We are working for stronger international recognition, including comprehensive CERD guidance and, ultimately, a Declaration on the Rights of Communities Discriminated on Work and Descent.

Yet the real test is always on the ground. International declarations have meaning only when they change the life of a woman confronting untouchability, a sanitation worker demanding safe and dignified work, a Roma child resisting school segregation, or a Haratine family seeking freedom, land and equality.

Learn more about racial justice with Amnesty International’s online course.

Excerpt:

Panelists and participants discuss Japan’s death penalty at a symposium examining capital punishment through the lens of human dignity, held on September 5, 2026, at St. Ignatius Church in Yotsuya, Tokyo. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

By Katsuhiro Asagiri
TOKYO, Japan, Sep 8 2026 (IPS)

A symposium examining Japan’s death penalty through the lens of human dignity was held on September 5 at Joseph Hall of St. Ignatius Church in Yotsuya, Tokyo.

Brochure of the Symposium titled, “Rethinking the Death Penalty: With Human Dignity in View.” Credit: The Association of Religious Leaders and Scholars Considering the Death Penalty

It was supported by eight organizations: the Jesuit Social Center, the Conference on Religion in the Modern World (CORMOS), the Japan Buddhist Federation, the International Institute for the Study of Religions, the Sophia University Institute of Grief Care, the Japanese Committee of the World Conference of Religions for Peace (WCRP), the Soka Gakkai Peace Committee, and the Institute of Engaged Buddhism.

The gathering brought together legal scholars, journalists, a bereaved family member, a former prison officer, younger participants and religious figures, each approaching Japan’s death penalty from a different experience and perspective.

Religious studies scholar Susumu Shimazono stressed that the purpose was not to decide whether capital punishment should be abolished, but to listen and learn.

The questions extended beyond punishment: how to support victims, prevent wrongful convictions and violence, and hold institutions accountable for decisions over life and death.

The international picture is mixed. Amnesty International reported that 145 countries had abolished capital punishment in law or practice by the end of 2025. Yet recorded executions rose to at least 2,707 that year, excluding unverified totals from China, North Korea and Vietnam.

Japan’s Justice Ministry has defended retention by citing public opinion and serious crime. But public support and justification under human rights principles are different questions.

Safeguards Before Irreversible Punishment

Prof. Makoto Ida. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

He also distinguished wrongful convictions from sentencing errors: even where guilt is established, overlooked mitigating circumstances may lead to death rather than life imprisonment.

He also expressed his view that hanging constitutes cruel punishment under Japan’s Constitution.

“Immediate abolition of the death penalty is not the only option,” he said.

Stronger safeguards, reviewing execution methods and temporarily suspending executions were possible steps. Ida argued that victims’ demands for punishment could not themselves justify capital punishment, while acknowledging their grief and anger.

Deterrence required equal caution. A 2012 U.S. National Research Council review found that the studies it examined could not establish whether capital punishment increased, reduced or had no effect on homicide rates. That was not proof of no effect.

Ida nevertheless urged that public fears be taken seriously. Reform must address organized crime and reoffending, rather than simply replace one punishment with another.

The Human Cost of Execution

Keiko Horikawa. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

She also recalled interviewing a former judicial research official involved in preparing the Supreme Court ruling underlying the Nagayama standard, the factors courts consider when choosing between death and life imprisonment. He disputed treating those factors as a formula for execution.

Horikawa’s book Kyokaishi (The Prison Chaplain) follows a Buddhist priest who accompanied condemned prisoners. She recalled his words:

“No one has ever been made happy by an execution.”

This was his observation, not a verdict on every bereaved family’s experience. It nevertheless raised a crucial distinction: completing a sentence does not necessarily end the suffering surrounding a crime.

Horikawa called for suspending executions and openly examining victims’ support, prison officers’ psychological burdens, costs and hanging itself.

A Bereaved Sister’s Unanswered Question

Nobuko. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

“I want to prevent reoffending and stop more people from experiencing this grief,” she said.

She resisted being assigned to either camp. Some bereaved people want execution; others want offenders to live with their crimes; still others cannot bear to think about the case.

“I think each is an expression of the grief that person carries,” she said.

Nobuko acknowledged that offenders retain human rights. “Recognizing the human rights of offenders does not, in itself, deny the human rights of victims.”

But who addresses the rights taken from those killed, and the needs of families left behind? Support should not depend on whether a family favors capital punishment.

The United Nations’ 1985 declaration on justice for crime victims encompasses access to justice, fair treatment, restitution, compensation and assistance. Punishment alone is not the whole response.

Nobuko asked a further question: “What kind of society would prevent people from becoming offenders who face the death penalty?”

Her conversations with prisoners revealed experiences of abuse and isolation. Understanding those histories does not excuse crime. But punishment after violence cannot substitute for examining whether earlier support might have prevented it.

She has begun creating opportunities for parents to share experiences. That is her choice, not an obligation other bereaved families should be expected to shoulder. Prevention also requires institutions, not merely individual goodwill.

“I am neither for nor against the death penalty,” she said, describing her determination to keep thinking about life, guilt and suffering.

Toshio Sakamoto. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

Former prison officer Toshio Sakamoto argued that restrictions on outside contact make changes in condemned prisoners difficult for society to see.

He also recalled his long acquaintance with Iwao Hakamada, who spent decades under sentence of death before his acquittal at a retrial in 2024. The case raises questions about interrogation, evidence disclosure and timely remedies.

Trust in justice depends not only on the authority to decide, but on the ability to acknowledge and correct error before irreversible harm occurs.

He also questioned increasingly lengthy life imprisonment. Japan’s life sentences permit parole in law; the issue is how public safety, victims’ concerns and evidence of rehabilitation are assessed in practice.

For Sorane Sakihama, a graduate student from Okinawa, studying in France first challenged her assumption that capital punishment was justice for victims. International exchanges later brought her face to face with people affected by wrongful death sentences.

Invoking the Okinawan expression “Nuchi du takara” — life is the greatest treasure — she connected her opposition to execution with her opposition to war. She emphasized creating spaces where young people can discuss difficult issues without needing settled opinions.

Sorane Sakihama, a graduate student from Okinawa, speaks about how international dialogue and her encounters with people affected by wrongful death sentences shaped her views on capital punishment, during a symposium at St. Ignatius Church in Tokyo on September 5, 2026. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

From Dialogue to Accountability

SDGs Goal No 16.

Sustainable Development Goal 16 does not explicitly require abolition. It does call for reducing violence, protecting children, equal access to justice, accountable institutions and inclusive decision-making.

That provides a practical framework: Are victims receiving sustained support? Can doubtful convictions be effectively reviewed? Are prison staff’s burdens recognized? Is prevention reducing harm? Can citizens obtain the information needed to judge the system?

Disagreement over abolition need not prevent scrutiny of these questions.

Can people change? What does atonement mean? How should society support victims and prevent violence? How much power over life and death should the state possess?

A new dialogue on those questions began in a Tokyo church.

This article is brought to you by INPS Japan in collaboration with Soka Gakkai International in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

IPS UN Bureau

Oemwa Johnston, a fourth-generation nuclear survivor from Kiribati Island. Credit: Naureen Hossain/IPS

By Naureen Hossain
UNITED NATIONS, Sep 7 2026 (IPS)

More and more, global disarmament discussions are encompassing the humanitarian and environmental impacts of the testing and use of nuclear weapons, as it becomes clear that the legacy of nuclear weapons leaves its mark on multiple generations.

This was the purpose of the international meeting on ‘Victims Assistance and Environmental Remediation’ for countries affected by nuclear weapons. The meeting, held on September 1 in UN Headquarters, convened member states, academia, and civil society organizations, along with representatives from communities directly affected by nuclear weapons use and testing.

The meeting was convened at the direction of the General Assembly under resolutions 79/60 and 80/56, which called for a meeting to be held by 2026 on the lived experiences of communities affected by nuclear weapons and the measures that member states and the international community at large can take to address their concerns. The meeting was chaired by Kazakhstan and Kiribati, two countries that were once sites for nuclear tests in the 20th century. Since then, they are among the former testing states avidly advocating for nuclear disarmament.

This meeting examined the humanitarian and environmental impacts of nuclear weapons use and testing. Many speakers present remarked on the long-lasting effects of exposure to nuclear radiation. The physical, social, economic, and psychological consequences of nuclear use are felt across multiple generations. Persistent health issues are an all-too-common reality among affected communities. People exposed to radiation are more susceptible to noncommunicable diseases like cancer or leukemia or to living with lifelong health conditions.

“The consequences of nuclear weapons do not end when an explosion is over. As the enduring suffering of the Hibakusha—the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki—and the legacy of more than 2000 nuclear tests around the world make clear, the effects of nuclear weapons persist for decades and across generations,” said Izumi Nakamitsu, UN Under-Secretary-General and High Representative of the Office of Disarmament Affairs (UN-ODA).

Nakamitsu said that the efforts to provide remediation should be sustainable; responses to the issues should not depend on “individual projects or temporary initiatives,” but rather on sustained cooperation across national and multilateral systems that have the capacity to preserve knowledge and technical expertise over long periods of time. “Communities need confidence that support will not disappear when a particular project or funding cycle comes to an end.”

Environmental remediation also constitutes, as the representative from Guatemala put it, “an indispensable responsibility” for the international community. The damage inflicted on the environment has rendered farmlands untenable, water systems altered, and impacted areas inhabitable due to radiation.

The first UN international meeting on victims’ assistance and environmental remediation for countries affected by nuclear weapons use and testing. Credit: Manuel Elias/UN Photo

Algeria’s representative remarked on the visible impact left by nuclear testing as evident in the Algerian Sahara, where testing was conducted near the towns of Reggane and In-Ekkar. One such result was radioactive lava flowing out from a mountain in the region, which cooled and hardened over time. The state carried out monitoring and environmental assessments of the affected, but as Algeria remarked, this effort cannot be done alone.

The impact also did not occur in a vacuum, as communities in those sites, including pastoralists, were forced to relocate or otherwise live with the outcomes. “Communities near these sites carry the burden that physics imposes: illness, land they cannot cultivate, and the harm of uncertainty,” he said.

States are encouraged to share knowledge and expertise on the methods taken to resolve their issues, such as environmental records for testing sites.

For Pacific Island states, remediation is paramount, for the environment is deeply linked to their cultural heritage. It is made more tragic as they risk losing their connection due to the consequences of nuclear testing.

Oemwa Johnston, a fourth-generation nuclear survivor from Kiribati, spoke on how she and other young people continue to carry this impact. “As a young woman and descendant of nuclear survivors, I belong to a generation that did not create nuclear weapons or conduct the nuclear tests of the past. Yet, we have inherited their legacy,” she said.

There was an unanimous call for affected individuals and communities to be at the center of disarmament talks and assistance efforts. Their lived experiences should shape the policies that are meant to support their needs.

“Affected communities cannot be seen only as recipients of assistance or subjects of research. They are knowledge holders,” said Mohamed Ambrosini, Soka Gakkai International’s (SGI) UN Representative for Disarmament.

Interactive dialogue and intergenerational exchanges between hibakusha, affected communities, and younger generations can create the spaces for people to reflect on the impacts of nuclear weapons. Preserving these testimonies and learning from them becomes more urgent as the hibakusha, the survivors of the atomic bombings in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, are aging, Ambrosini warned.

Ambrosini and other civil society members also emphasized that in centering their experiences and recognizing their dignity, this sets the path for them to receive nuclear justice and repatriation for their suffering. These efforts should also respect their dignity and provide them with meaningful spaces to be part of decision-making processes.

There were calls for States to take the responsibility to support affected communities. This should come in two forms: compensation from states through national and federal support programs and official recognition, even apologies, from nuclear powers for their testing.

In the context of Japan, hibakusha and other affected communities receive relief from the government, but not state compensation. While hibakusha are eligible for certain benefits like free health care, the terms for who qualifies for these benefits may be too narrow. Emilie McGlone from Peace Boat, a Japan-based civil society group, argued that the current systems for victim assistance do not include non-Japanese or overseas hibakusha, or people who lived outside the specific geographic boundaries from the hypocenter of the bombings.

“The starting point for all victim assistance is defining who is recognized. Japan’s experience shows that while official definitions may be narrow, victims themselves as well as civil society in affected areas advocate for broader rights. Civil society and diverse impacted voices must therefore be involved in the design of victim assistance policies,” said McGlone.

The meeting recognized the current international frameworks that limit or prohibit nuclear weapons use and testing, such as the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty (CTBT) and the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NPT). It also held up the Treaty for the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW), which carries provisions for victim assistance and environmental remediation, as outlined in Articles VI and VII of the treaty.

As Bangladesh’s delegate noted, the TPNW recognizes that “addressing the use of nuclear weapons must go hand in hand with preventing their future use.” As of now, 100 countries have either signed or ratified the treaty, which calls for complete nuclear disarmament, though this does not include the current nuclear-armed states.

Note: This article is brought to you by IPS Noram in collaboration with INPS Japan and Soka Gakkai International in consultative status with ECOSOC.

IPS UN Bureau Report

A female fish seller at a Saigon market was contacting her clients via her a smart phone. Digital technology has accelerated and facilitated business operations in South-East Asia. Credit: Unsplash / Robson Hatsukami Morgan

By Ruhimat Soerakoesoemah, Andrey Panteleev and Philip Diamant
BANGKOK, Thailand, Sep 7 2026 (IPS)

Physical borders are shrinking, and digital ones are quietly taking their place. As governments use digital transformation as a powerful driver of economic and sustainable development, the challenge is no longer simply a digital divide between those with technology and those without it. It is a question of digital fragmentation, where infrastructure, standards and regulations make cross-border cooperation more difficult.

This raises an important question of how economies in Asia and the Pacific can pursue digital sovereignty while remaining connected to trade, innovate and develop together. One promising answer lies in closer cooperation between the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) and the Eurasian Economic Union (EAEU). Both regions are trying to build stronger digital capabilities while keeping their economies open to cross-border trade. Despite their different economic structures and development pathways, the two blocs share many of the same digital ambitions and challenges.

Digital transformation has become a powerful driver of economic development, competitiveness and resilience. However, progress remains uneven within regions. While some countries are rapidly building digital infrastructure and services, others still face constraints in skills, financing and institutional capacity. This means digital transformation is no longer solely considered in terms of technology. Governments are increasingly seeing it as a strategic priority which is linked to competitiveness, national security, sovereignty and their citizens’ well-being. For regional blocs such as the EAEU and ASEAN, this makes cooperation and the exchange of experience more and more important.

In the EAEU, this ambition is reflected in the work of the Eurasian Economic Commission. In 2017, the EAEU launched its Digital Agenda, which serves as the overarching framework for digital transformation processes across members States. The EAEU’s regional approach is complemented by national efforts. A good example from Kazakhstan was how a dedicated ministry for artificial intelligence (AI) is established and that Kazakhstan already passed new laws on AI, cybersecurity and digital assets, and started running powerful computing centres. Kazakhstan’s nationwide AI training programme is already reaching thousands of people. This is a good example of what a push towards digital sovereignty can look like.

Such a similar ambition can be seen in the ASEAN region, where the ASEAN Digital Economy Framework Agreement (DEFA) is expected to be launched at the 49th ASEAN Summit this November. DEFA aims to create a more seamless regional digital economy by addressing areas, such as digital trade, cross-border shopping, e-signatures, cybersecurity, electronic payments and AI. The region has been asked for such a framework since SMEs account for 85% of jobs and 44.8% of GDP in South-East Asia, but they generate only around 18% of exports. At the same time, the region’s digital economy is already worth an estimated US$ 0.5 trillion and is expected to double to US$ 1 trillion by 2030. With an effective implementation of DEFA, this number can be further increased to US$ 2 trillion.

With all these developments, the complementary strengths of ASEAN and the EAEU are highlighted. The EAEU’s experience in building digital public platforms, solutions for critical infrastructure and cybersecurity frameworks is complemented with ASEAN’s dynamic markets, vibrant digital entrepreneurship and successful models for commercialising digital services. A stakeholder survey conducted by ESCAP across EAEU and ASEAN countries in 2025 found broad agreement on the nature of digital transformation, priority technologies and key risks. This suggests that, despite their different contexts, the two regions share significant common ground for cooperation.

This is where ESCAP can play an important convening role as the UN’s regional body for Asia and the Pacific. Through the project “Strengthening Regional Cooperation in Digital Transformation for Economic and Sustainable Development”, ESCAP is working with ASEAN and EAEU countries to help identify practical solutions, share experiences and advance opportunities for collaboration between the regions. Policymakers explored how both subregions can cooperate more efficiently across borders.

Interesting examples include the benefits of interoperability. Eleven South-East Asian economies now run their own QR-payment systems, with eight already working across at least one border. This same interoperability is starting to reach across other subregions, with a QR-code issued by a Russian bank already working in Viet Nam. These experiences demonstrate a clear scope to explore how similar approaches could support wider cross-border cooperation between ASEAN and the EAEU.

In hindsight, the first sentence of this blog could have been: Physical borders may be shrinking, but digital borders are still being drawn. Addressing digital fragmentation requires dialogue, shared standards, and practical cooperation that allows countries to benefit from the digital transformation. Initiatives like this aim to strengthen interoperability and knowledge sharing across subregions and promote a digital future of Asia that is connected, inclusive and supports sustainable development for all.

Ruhimat Soerakoesoemah, Head of Subregional Office for South-East Asia, ESCAP; Andrey Panteleev, Head of Economic Policy Strategies Section, Macroeconomic Policy Department, Eurasian Economic Commission; and Philip Diamant, Intern, Subregional Office for South-East Asia, ESCAP

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Homes and roads are covered in mud in Nuwakot District, Nepal, after devastating flash floods swept through central northern Nepal. Credit: UNICEF/Laxmi-Prasad-Ngakhusi

By Oritro Karim
UNITED NATIONS, Sep 1 2026 (IPS)

On the morning of August 26, an unprecedented series of flash floods struck Nepal and the Tibet Autonomous Region of China, causing immense destruction, killing hundreds of civilians and leaving thousands missing. Entire neighborhoods have been buried underwater and beneath mud as the Nepalese government and humanitarian organizations rush to provide emergency assistance.

“My family members were swept away by the flood in front of my eyes,” Kalpana Malla from Nepal’s Nuwakot district told reporters. “They could not escape the flood; there was no chance at all. This flood took everything, but my son and I climbed the rooftop of a house and survived, but couldn’t explain how.”

Although the direct cause of the floods is currently unknown, figures from the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) indicate that the floods were caused by a significant glacial collapse, after previously reporting they were caused by a magnitude 4.4 earthquake. Marking a magnitude 5.2 seismic event, the subsequent debris flow and downstream collapse of seismic waves crashed over the Nepal-China border, destroying buildings and roads along the Trishuli River.

“Initial analysis of before-and-after satellite images now suggests that part of a glacier collapsed high in the mountains,” said Professor Liz Stephens, Professor in Climate Risks and Resilience at the Department of Meteorology at the University of Reading in the United Kingdom, noting that the stability of high-mountain environments is increasingly threatened by the global impacts of climate change. She adds that the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has “high confidence” that similar “complex cascading events” could occur in the future if underlying climate factors are not addressed soon.

Entire regions in Nepal have been rendered inaccessible due to heavy flooding and mudslides, which destroyed at least 35 bridges, affected over 40 kilometers of roads, and disrupted telecommunications and electricity services in roughly 10 percent of the total affected areas. The hardest-hit regions are the Rasuwa district near Kathmandu in northern Nepal, the Nuwakot district in central-northern Nepal, and the towns of Timure, Rasuwagadhi, and Syabrubesi. According to figures from the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), roughly 10,000 households are in dire need of emergency assistance, with many families stripped of basic services, such as shelter, food, water supply, and access to healthcare.

Last week on August 27, Lila Pieters Yahia, the United Nations (UN) Resident Coordinator in Nepal, informed reporters during a press briefing at the UN Headquarters that at least 359 people had been killed, while 73 additional civilians had been hospitalized, though some have since been released. Yahia also stated that approximately 910 civilians remain missing, though various media outlets report the figure exceeds 1,300. Since then, Nepal officials have confirmed 900 deaths and over 4247 missing.

These numbers are projected to fluctuate in the coming days as aid personnel increasingly access isolated areas. Of those unaccounted for, Yahia noted that roughly 517 are foreign nationals spanning over 30 countries—including hundreds from China and India, alongside approximately 90 from the United States.

“Everyone in a mountain valley faces the same hazards, but tourists are more vulnerable because they may not recognize the danger or understand local warnings,” said Dr. Fatima M. Pillosu, hydrometeorologist and flash floods researcher from the Department of Meteorology at the University of Reading. “Visitors from regions where such events are rare may not appreciate how fast a mountain river can rise, nor that these valleys also face avalanches, landslides and floods from melting glaciers, even in dry weather. Knowing in advance what can happen, and what to do if it does, is one of the most useful protections.”

Children in Nepal are among the hardest-hit populations, with the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) estimating that at least 17,000 children have been impacted. UNICEF has recorded the destruction of at least 18 schools and damage to 20. Roughly 10,000 school-age children are projected to require urgent support to continue their education, including new learning materials, access to temporary learning centers, and psychosocial support services for both children and teachers.

“Children across Rasuwa and Dhading saw their lives being literally washed away in front of their eyes in a very short span of time, with homes, classrooms, and medical facilities damaged,” said Alice Akunga, the UNICEF representative to Nepal. “Children who have survived the floods now face heightened risks of disease, malnutrition, violence and exploitation,” she said.

Yahia informed reporters that the UN and its partners are currently on the ground, providing direct support to vulnerable communities while simultaneously conducting assessments to determine the exact scale of needs. Currently, the World Food Programme (WFP) is positioned to provide equipment and emergency rations to communities on the frontlines of the crisis. Additionally, two staff members from the World Health Organization (WHO) are distributing tents, logistics support, and medical kits for about 10,000 people for roughly three months.

Although the UN has identified potential risk for additional flooding in areas of Nepal on August 27, it is working closely with the Nepalese government to scale up its life-saving operations across health, nutrition, water, sanitation, protection, and education.

In the wake of the disaster, both countries and UN entities have begun sending emergency supplies and funding for the relief efforts in Nepal. UN Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs and Emergency Relief Coordinator Tom Fletcher announced that USD 2 million would be allocated from the UN Central Emergency Response Fund (CERF).

The U.S. State Department has pledged to send a disaster response advisor along with USD 500,000 in aid. Yahia also confirmed that Switzerland has sent more than USD 600,000 for aid, and other countries such as Japan, Australia and the United Kingdom have pledged to send aid funding and supplies in the days to come. Regional neighbors, such as India, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka, have begun sending emergency supplies.

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Closing plenary at UNCCD COP17 in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. Credit: Anastasia Rodopoulou/ENB-IISD

By Kizito Makoye
DAR ES SALAAM, Aug 31 2026 (IPS)

When the rains fail across Tanzania’s northern Maasai Steppe, herders drive their cattle farther in search of pasture and water.

Boreholes run low. Cattle lose weight, milk yields fall and families begin selling cows, often their main source of livelihood. If the dry spell persists, herds can die, leaving families facing hunger.

What is happening on the Maasai Steppe is part of a wider debate over how the world’s rangelands should be restored. At the UN desertification summit in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, governments backed a $1.2 billion programme to restore rangelands, alongside measures to repair degraded land and prepare for drought.

For African pastoralists, the question is whether that money will reach them before the next drought.

Governments, meanwhile, failed to seal a global drought agreement, pushing the dispute into another round of negotiations in Egypt in 2028.

The consequences are particularly serious in Africa, where millions depend on livestock for food and income. Restoring pasture could help pastoralists survive dry years, but it will not solve the problem if grazing routes disappear, drought warnings arrive too late or funds fail to reach the people managing the land.

“The $1.2 billion Rangelands Flagship Initiative is an important recognition that rangelands are not wastelands or marginal areas,” said Ephraim Mtengeti, Professor of Range Sciences at Sokoine University of Agriculture.

“They are productive ecosystems that support millions of people, livestock, biodiversity and important ecological functions. For Africa, where pastoralism remains central to rural livelihoods, giving these landscapes greater financial and political attention is long overdue.”

The 45 projects sit within a wider $1.3 billion programme covering land restoration and drought measures in 23 countries. About $644.5 million is new finance, while another $216 million had already been confirmed.

The pledge is substantial, but it is small compared with the scale of the funding gap. The UN Convention to Combat Desertification estimates that about $355 billion a year will be needed until 2030 to meet global land-restoration commitments. Current investment is about $77 billion.

That leaves a shortfall of roughly $278 billion a year.

Private finance accounts for only about 6% of restoration investment. Governments and development agencies are therefore looking to blended finance, using public money to make projects that might otherwise appear too risky more attractive to private investors.

Many of the benefits of restoring rangelands, however, are difficult to turn into financial returns.

Peter Bakker, president and chief executive of the World Business Council for Sustainable Development, said companies were willing to invest but needed projects that could make money.

“Business does not lack appetite for resilient supply chains, secure water and productive soil – it lacks bankable projects, credible data and a fair share of the early risk,” he said.

Mtengeti agreed that private investment was needed but warned against judging restoration solely by the returns it could generate.

“The financing gap is enormous, so it is understandable that COP17 is looking towards private capital and blended finance,” he said.

“But investors will naturally look for financial returns, whereas many of the most important benefits of rangeland restoration — water security, biodiversity, carbon storage, food security and social stability — are public goods.”

Rangelands as Economic Infrastructure

Rangelands cover about 54% of the Earth’s land surface and support roughly 2 billion people, including 500 million pastoralists. They provide pasture for livestock while storing carbon, supporting biodiversity and helping regulate water.

Restoration could generate $4 to $6 for every dollar invested, rising to as much as $36 when wider public benefits are included.

Restoring rangelands in Africa cannot simply mean fencing off land or imposing farming models designed for settled communities.

Pastoralism depends on mobility. Herders move livestock as pasture and water shift, sometimes crossing national borders.

“Rangelands cannot be restored effectively by treating them like a conventional agricultural field,” Mtengeti said.

“These are dynamic ecosystems, and pastoral mobility is one of the mechanisms through which livestock production adapts to variable rainfall and pasture availability.”

The pressure on grazing land is also increasing. Farms, roads, conservation areas and settlements are taking up more dryland, leaving less room for herders. During drought, the pressure becomes acute as people and livestock crowd around the few remaining sources of grass and water.

“Drought does not respect political boundaries,” Mtengeti said. “Pastoral systems in East Africa are interconnected, and livestock movements often respond to ecological conditions rather than national borders.”

Who Gets the Money?

COP17 also highlighted a shift towards larger, landscape-wide projects rather than small, isolated conservation schemes.

They include Kenya’s TWENDE programme, locally led adaptation financing across Africa, the $35 million Herding for Health initiative and a $100 million African Development Bank programme covering the Zambezi River Basin.

Scale alone, however, will not guarantee better results. Money can still go astray when land rights are disputed, local authorities are weak or communities struggle to gain access to funds.

“Communities should not be treated merely as beneficiaries of projects designed somewhere else,” Mtengeti said.

“They have knowledge of their landscapes, their grazing patterns and how ecosystems respond to climatic variability. That knowledge must inform the design and implementation of restoration programmes.”

Access to international finance presents another obstacle.

“If international finance remains locked behind complicated procedures that local organisations cannot access, then some of the people most exposed to drought will continue to receive the least support,” Mtengeti said.

The Drought Gap

The failure to agree on a global drought agreement was one of COP17’s biggest setbacks. The issue had already been left unresolved at COP16. Governments remained divided over whether such an agreement should be legally binding, leaving the decision until 2028.

“The postponement of a global drought instrument is disappointing because drought is no longer an occasional shock that communities can simply recover from,” Mtengeti said.

“In many dryland areas, repeated droughts are eroding livestock assets, weakening household incomes and undermining the ecological foundation on which pastoral livelihoods depend.”

Governments do not have to wait for a global agreement. More than 70 countries now have national drought plans, compared with only three in 2013.

COP17 also launched the Drought Resilience Investment Facility, which aims to raise up to $400 million from public and private sources.

Finance will also have to be matched by preparedness. Early-warning systems, reliable data, functioning institutions and water infrastructure are crucial, as is acting before drought develops into a humanitarian emergency.

“Countries should not wait for a global instrument before strengthening their own drought preparedness and investing in anticipatory action,” Mtengeti said.

The deadlock over drought came despite progress elsewhere at the summit.

Joao Campari, global food and agriculture leader at WWF, said the summit had given greater prominence to rangelands, grasslands and nature-positive farming.

“Yet hope alone will not protect nature, limit climate change or put food on the table. COP17 has laid strong foundations, but the focus must now shift to implementation on the ground and supporting local communities to deliver lasting benefits for all,” he said.

Where Will the Money Come From?

Closing the funding gap will also require governments to change policies that continue to undermine land resilience.

The UNCCD estimates that about $2.4 trillion in public finance supports environmentally harmful subsidies. Redirecting even part of that money could dwarf many of the commitments announced in Ulaanbaatar.

Governments must also protect grazing corridors, strengthen community land rights and ensure that the people managing the land receive a meaningful share of investment.

“Healthy rangelands are economic infrastructure,” Mtengeti said.

“They support livestock production, food security, employment, water systems and biodiversity. When these landscapes degrade, the costs are eventually borne by households and governments through livestock losses, food insecurity, humanitarian assistance and environmental damage.”

For pastoralists, the outcome of COP17 points to a basic reality: rangelands cannot be treated as empty land waiting for a more profitable use. They are part of the economic infrastructure on which food supplies, livelihoods and climate resilience depend.

Mtengeti said the summit had moved rangelands higher up the international agenda but that the commitments would need to be followed by action in pastoral areas.

“COP17 should therefore be seen as a step forward, but not as a solution,” he said. “The financing commitments are encouraging, and the greater attention to rangelands is important. But Africa’s dryland communities need action that is predictable, locally grounded and delivered before drought becomes a crisis.”

When governments meet again in Egypt in 2028, the value of the Mongolian pledges will be judged by what has happened in the drylands: whether pasture has recovered, livestock can move safely, communities have gained access to finance and drought losses are falling.

For pastoralists, the pledges will ultimately be measured during the next drought, when they need pasture, water and support to keep their herds alive.
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Char residents crossing the Jamuna River by boat (Stock photo, 2016).

By Mohammad Zaman
DHAKA, Bangladesh, Aug 31 2026 (IPS)

Bangladesh’s riverine and coastal chars have always been landscapes of movement, but climate change is making that movement more violent, frequent, and unequal. The shifting islands of the Jamuna, Brahmaputra, Padma, and other rivers now reveal how climate stress multiplies deprivation, weakens citizenship, and forces char dwellers to absorb the costs of a crisis they did little to create.

After years of researching and writing about Bangladesh’s chars, I see them not as marginal landscapes, but as frontline climate geographies. They show how river erosion becomes repeated displacement, flooding brings livelihood collapse, and administrative neglect heightens vulnerability. Char people rebuild, migrate, and diversify under extreme uncertainty, but their resilience should not be romanticized. It is being stretched by intensifying hazards and institutions still designed for fixed land, fixed addresses, and orderly poverty. This is why the issue should be framed not simply as adaptation to hazards, but as a question of rights. The central problem is not that char dwellers fail to cope with a moving river; it is that institutions repeatedly ask them to cope without secure recognition, services, or protection.

Mohammad Zaman

Chars are marginal because state planning treats them as temporary spaces for poor and landless people. Some estimates suggest that chars cover roughly 8% of Bangladesh’s land area and are home to 15 to 20 million people. For char communities, migration is not a rupture in char life; it is a recurring way of organizing and rebuilding, often annually. But climate change is turning mobility from strategy into necessity. For many char dwellers, migration may begin as seasonal labour, become repeated relocation, and finally harden into permanent detachment from land, kinship, and legal security.

In 2024, according to the Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre’s Bangladesh country profile, monsoon floods triggered 1.3 million movements, while its disaster displacement risk reporting records more than 21 million disaster displacements in Bangladesh between 2008 and 2024. Among char people, climate change is felt through household decisions made under pressure: whether to rebuild on the same island, move to another char, keep children in school, or migrate to Dhaka for work. These choices are rational and strategic, but the field of options is narrowing under climate stress, vulnerability, and social exclusion.

Migration from char areas also reflects intelligence and aspiration: young people leave for wages, education, electricity, phones, clinics, and futures beyond subsistence and uncertainty. The tragedy is that climate-stressed households often move without skills, savings, documents, safe housing, or labour protection. The river follows them into the garment line, the rickshaw garage, the brick kiln, the domestic workplace, and the rented slum room.

How should these heightened risks from flooding and displacement be addressed? Adaptation is necessary, but it is not enough. Raised plinths, early warnings, flood-resistant crops and community preparedness may save lives, yet adaptation without land rights, education, healthcare, social protection and safe migration routes becomes a way of managing dispossession. Climate change deepens vulnerability because it strikes people who already lack secure tenure, dependable services and political recognition.

In Bangladesh, climate policy should stop treating char dwellers as humanitarian exceptions and start treating them as political subjects. Public services must be redesigned for moving landscapes through boat schools, mobile clinics, digital civil registration, portable social protection, and weather-responsive transport. Land administration must recognize erosion and accretion, while migration should be planned as adaptation through skills training, safe housing, labour rights, and social insurance. Gender must be central to this agenda. Women and girls often carry these risks most directly, through interrupted schooling, unsafe travel for work or services, increased care burdens during floods, and reduced voice in decisions about land, migration, and relief. Policies that imagine the household as a single male-headed unit misread both vulnerability and agency.

The politics of the char is the politics of who counts in a warming world. Fixed maps assume that citizenship has a stable address and that development follows roads. Char life challenges those assumptions. It shows that climate vulnerability is produced not only by hazards, but by institutions unable or unwilling to recognize lives shaped by unstable land.

Bangladesh can praise char people for endurance, or it can confront the uncomfortable truth: the river will keep moving; that is its nature. But if the rights of char people move more slowly than the river, the failure is political. Their future will not be secured by teaching them to adapt endlessly to disappearance, but by ensuring that no citizen has to prove belonging on land that may not be there tomorrow.

The experience of Bangladesh’s char dwellers shows that climate change is not only an environmental crisis, but also a crisis of rights, recognition, and governance. River erosion, floods, and displacement become devastating because they intersect with insecure land tenure, weak services, gendered risks, and limited political voice. A just response must therefore go beyond short-term adaptation and treat char communities as full citizens whose mobility, livelihoods, and claims to belonging deserve protection in a warming and increasingly unstable world.

Dr. Mohammad Zaman has lived and conducted extensive field research in the Kazipur-Sirajganj chars and has written widely on char land tenure, livelihoods, and social organization. He is the lead editor, with Mustafa Alam as co-editor, of Living on the Edge: Char Dwellers in Bangladesh (Springer, 2021). He can be reached at mqzaman.bc@gmail.com.

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Kazakhstan marks the 35th anniversary of the closure of the Semipalatinsk Nuclear Test Site, recalling the Nevada–Semipalatinsk anti-nuclear movement and highlighting continued cooperation between government and civil society for nuclear disarmament. Credit: INPS Japan

By Katsuhiro Asagiri
TOKYO / ASTANA, Aug 31 2026 (IPS)

Across the vast steppe of northeastern Kazakhstan, the scars of the Cold War remain visible. At the Semipalatinsk Nuclear Test Site, the Soviet Union conducted 456 nuclear tests between 1949 and 1989, exposing nearby communities to radiation and leaving health and environmental consequences that have endured across generations.

Semipalatinsk Former Nuclear Weapon Test site. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri

At a time when nuclear weapons are being reasserted rather than marginalized, Kazakhstan’s choice raises a basic question: Must national security ultimately depend on possessing them?

A Nuclear Test Site Closed by Public Pressure

In 1989, the Kazakh poet Olzhas Suleimenov helped launch the Nevada-Semipalatinsk anti-nuclear movement, linking the Soviet site with Nevada and highlighting the human costs of nuclear testing on both sides of the Cold War. Hundreds of thousands joined protests demanding an end to the tests.

Against that backdrop, then-President Nursultan Nazarbayev signed the decree closing Semipalatinsk on Aug. 29, 1991.

Kazakh civil movement activists gathered to demand a nuclear test ban at the Semipalatinsk test site in August 1989. Credit: armscontrol.org

Official portrait of Kassym-Jomart Tokayev. Credit: President of the Republic of Kazakhstan

From Nuclear Victim to Disarmament Advocate

Kazakhstan then sought to turn the experience of Semipalatinsk into a broader disarmament agenda.

It ratified the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty and helped establish the Central Asian Nuclear-Weapon-Free Zone with Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan. In 2009, at Kazakhstan’s initiative, the U.N. General Assembly designated Aug. 29 as the International Day against Nuclear Tests.

Kazakhstan also hosts facilities in the global system for detecting nuclear explosions, while the International Atomic Energy Agency operates a Low Enriched Uranium Bank in Oskemen to reduce incentives for countries to develop their own enrichment capabilities.

Looking Beyond Warhead Numbers

LEU Bank Storage Facility. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri

Around Semipalatinsk, concerns about health and environmental damage persist decades after testing ended. That experience has shaped Kazakhstan’s role in the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, or TPNW, where it has stressed victim assistance and environmental remediation as well as prohibition.

Together with Kiribati, another country deeply affected by nuclear testing, Kazakhstan has supported efforts to create an international funding mechanism for those purposes.

The principle goes beyond preventing future use: the international community also bears responsibilities for harm already inflicted. Semipalatinsk, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, the Marshall Islands and Kiribati are separated by geography and history but connected by the human cost of the nuclear age.

Kazakhstan and the Role of Civil Society

Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri, Multimedia Director of INPS Japan

Since independence, Kazakhstan has worked with civil society organizations, humanitarian institutions, researchers, survivors, medical experts, young people and faith-based groups to keep the human consequences of nuclear weapons in international debate.

Among them is Soka Gakkai International (SGI), which has long advocated nuclear abolition as a question of human survival and dignity.

At the first Meeting of States Parties to the TPNW in Vienna in 2022, Kazakhstan and Kiribati joined the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation and SGI in organizing a side event on victim assistance and environmental remediation.

In 2023, Kazakhstan’s diplomatic mission, SGI and the Center for International Security and Policy (CISP) organized another Vienna event on the consequences of nuclear testing at Semipalatinsk, including testimony from younger generations living with its legacy. Later that year in Astana, Kazakhstan’s Foreign Ministry and CISP brought together SGI, the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons (ICAN), the International Committee of the Red Cross and others for a conference marking the International Day against Nuclear Tests.

Mr. Hirotsugu Terasaki, Chief Executive Director of SGI Peace Center. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri, Multimedia Director of INPS Japan

“Many people in Kazakhstan share the same strong desire for nuclear disarmament because they know firsthand the reality of nuclear suffering,” Terasaki told INPS Japan, drawing a parallel with the aspirations of people in Japan shaped by the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

His observation points to a broader dimension of Kazakhstan’s engagement with civil society: cooperation built not only around diplomatic objectives, but also around shared historical experience, humanitarian concerns and a determination to prevent future generations from enduring similar suffering.

These initiatives reflect a broader pattern: states negotiate treaties and security arrangements, while civil society brings survivors’ testimony, medical evidence, environmental damage and intergenerational responsibility into the discussion. For Kazakhstan, whose closure of Semipalatinsk was shaped by a popular anti-nuclear movement, such cooperation is part of the foundation of its disarmament diplomacy.

A Group photo of participants of the regional conference on the humanitarian consequences of nuclear weapons and nuclear-free-zone in Central Asia held on August 29, 2023. Credit: Jibek Joly TV Channel

A Nuclear Connection With Japan

Kazakhstan’s relationship with Japan is also shaped by a shared history of nuclear suffering.

Kazakhstan-Japan

Japan also co-sponsored the U.N. resolution establishing Aug. 29 as the International Day against Nuclear Tests and has worked with Kazakhstan to promote the entry into force of the CTBT.

A World Moving in the Opposite Direction

The international environment surrounding the 35th anniversary is bleak.

More than 10,000 nuclear warheads remain worldwide, and major nuclear powers continue to modernize their arsenals. With New START gone, the United States and Russia no longer operate under a comprehensive, legally binding framework limiting their strategic nuclear forces.

The NPT Review Conference ended in May without a final document, the third consecutive review cycle to end without substantive consensus. The CTBT, opened for signature three decades ago and supported by nearly the entire international community, has still not entered into force.

Memory Is Not Enough

Writing in The Astana Times ahead of the anniversary, Dr. Dauren Aben of the Kazakhstan Institute for Strategic Studies described the lesson of Semipalatinsk in simple terms: not merely to remember, but to “remember and act.”

Dauren Abenuly Aben. Credit: KazISS

In 1991, Kazakhstan could preserve the nuclear arsenal it inherited as a symbol of national power, or give it up. It chose the second.

That decision did not eliminate nuclear weapons or guarantee irreversible disarmament. Today, the world may instead be entering a new era of nuclear competition.

But one fact remains: a state that had the opportunity to become a nuclear power chose not to do so.

Over the next 35 years, Kazakhstan connected that choice to nuclear-weapon-free zones, the global test ban, the TPNW, victim assistance and environmental remediation. Its cooperation with SGI and a broad range of civil society organizations forms part of that history.

A view of the Headquarters of the United Nations in New York as seen from the north of the UN site. Credit: UN Photo/Yutaka Nagata

Even so, the question posed by the treaty increasingly resembles the question posed by Kazakhstan’s experience:

Does possessing nuclear weapons make nations safer?

Or does genuine security ultimately require a world in which nuclear weapons no longer exist?

Across the former Semipalatinsk testing grounds, traces of the explosions remain — reminders of what humanity has already done with nuclear weapons.

But 35 years ago, Kazakhstan gave the site another meaning: evidence that a country could move from building and testing nuclear weapons toward a deliberate decision to reject them.

The question now is whether the rest of the world still has the political will to make the same choice.

This article is brought to you by INPS Japan and Soka Gakkai International, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

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Views of settlements in the Rasuwa district in north-central Nepal covered in mud following the devastating flash floods that swept through the area on Aug. 26, 2026, causing widespread destruction to homes, roads and other infrastructure. CREDIT: UNICEF/UN0914644/ Skanda Gautam

By IPS Correspondent
KATHMANDU, Aug 27 2026 (IPS)

A massive geophysical disaster along the mountainous Nepal-Tibet border has left at least 160 people dead and hundreds more missing after a glacial collapse triggered devastating flash floods and mudslides on Wednesday.

According to data compiled by regional disaster management authorities, the catastrophe began high in the Himalayas. An enormous avalanche of ice and rock tore into the Lhende River, unleashing a wall of mud and water that surged downstream into the Bhote Koshi and Trishuli rivers.

The impact on the ground has been devastating. Officials in Nepal have confirmed 157 fatalities, while authorities in Tibet (China) have reported three deaths, with warnings that the toll is expected to rise. Hardest hit are Nepal’s Rasuwa and Nuwakot districts, alongside Tibet’s Gyirong County. Local police reports indicate that more than 400 people remain unaccounted for, including dozens of Nepalese emergency responders and over 340 foreign tourists, as reported extensively by international news agencies.

In response to the tragedy, UN Secretary-General António Guterres expressed deep sadness and solidarity with the affected communities, confirming that UN teams are actively mobilising aid on the ground. Simultaneously, UNICEF has highlighted the severe impact of the disaster on children and families, warning of severe long-term trauma, displacement, and immediate risks to youth in the devastated regions.

UNICEF is leveraging its local presence and its global supply hub in Copenhagen to deliver safe drinking water, medical care, and nutrition kits to the disaster zone within 72 hours.

With road access completely severed by the destruction of 19 vehicle bridges and 40 kilometres of highways, search and rescue teams are relying on helicopters to winch survivors to safety. The US, China, India, and the European Union have pledged international relief operations.

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By James Alix Michel
VICTORIA, Seychelles, Aug 26 2026 (IPS)

Across this vast ocean, the latest monitoring by Mercator Ocean International shows marine heatwave conditions ranging from moderate to severe. At the same time, the World Meteorological Organization expects a strong El Niño to intensify through August to October, with a positive Indian Ocean Dipole also likely to develop. These are not distant scientific signals. They are an urgent warning that the ocean system on which millions depend is under mounting stress.

The Indian Ocean in particular has sustained communities for generations. It provides food and livelihoods, carries trade and travel, shapes our cultures and moderates our climate. It is also one connected living system – its currents carry heat, nutrients, fish (as well as pollution, unfortunately) across borders drawn on maps. Its coral reefs, mangroves, seagrass meadows and open waters support people from the eastern coast of Africa to South Asia, and from the islands of the western Indian Ocean to the Maldives and beyond. When ocean temperatures rise abnormally, the consequences are not confined to a scientific bulletin. They are seen in the health of coral reefs, in the movement and abundance of fish, in the safety of coastal communities, and in the future of tourism and fisheries. They are felt in the weakening of the natural protection that reefs, mangroves and coastal habitats provide against erosion, flooding and storms.

Coral reefs are especially vulnerable. They can sometimes recover from an isolated bleaching event if temperatures fall quickly enough. But repeated bleaching and prolonged heat stress allow too little time for recovery. When reefs deteriorate, the consequences extend beyond biodiversity: fish habitats are lost, shorelines become more exposed, tourism suffers and communities lose part of their natural and cultural inheritance. This is why ocean warming is not simply an environmental issue. It is an issue of food security, jobs, development, economic stability and justice.

For decades, humanity has relied on the ocean’s exceptional capacity to cushion the climate crisis. The ocean absorbs more than 90 percent of the excess heat trapped by greenhouse gas emissions. By doing so, it has moderated atmospheric warming and spared humanity even more severe disruption. But there is a limit to what we can ask of the sea. Small island developing states have contributed little to the cumulative emissions destabilising the global climate. Yet we are among the first to face the consequences. We cannot move our reefs. We cannot relocate our coastlines without immense social and economic cost. We cannot separate the wellbeing of our people and economies from the health of the ocean. For island people, climate vulnerability is not an abstract concept. It is a daily reality.

Still, island states must not be viewed only as victims. We are custodians of extensive ocean spaces, centres of practical innovation and partners in the search for sustainable solutions. Seychelles has tried to demonstrate that economic development and marine conservation need not be enemies. Through marine spatial planning, Seychelles has committed 30 percent of its waters to protection, while advancing a blue economy vision based on stewardship rather than depletion. This is not charity towards nature. It is a recognition that there can be no enduring prosperity if fish stocks decline, reefs deteriorate and coastal ecosystems are damaged beyond recovery.

Across the Indian Ocean, other island and coastal states are also restoring habitats, improving fisheries management, investing in renewable energy, strengthening marine conservation and building more resilient communities. Their efforts deserve recognition and support. They show that those most exposed to climate risk are not waiting passively for rescue. They are protecting a shared ocean heritage, often with scarce resources. But local and regional action cannot substitute for the choices that must be made globally.

First, the world must reduce greenhouse gas emissions much more rapidly. Adaptation is indispensable, particularly for small island developing states. We need stronger early-warning systems, more ocean observation, investment in reef and coastal restoration, secure water supplies and infrastructure designed for a changing climate. But adaptation cannot indefinitely protect an ocean that continues to accumulate heat. No sea wall, restoration programme or emergency plan can replace decisive action to reduce emissions.

Second, climate finance must become fairer, faster and easier to access. Island states should not have to devote years of limited institutional capacity to complex procedures simply to secure support for renewable energy, water security, coastal protection, marine research and ecosystem restoration. Those facing the greatest climate risks require genuine partnership – not delayed promises, burdensome processes and inadequate resources.

Third, the countries of the Indian Ocean must deepen regional cooperation. Marine heatwaves, coral bleaching, illegal fishing, biodiversity loss and coastal erosion do not stop at national boundaries. We need better ocean observation, data-sharing and regional early-warning systems. We need stronger scientific cooperation, responsible fisheries management and coordinated protection of the ecosystems connecting our islands and coasts.

The Indian Ocean should not be seen merely as a corridor for trade or a theatre for geopolitical competition. It is a shared living system, whose health is fundamental to the security and prosperity of everyone who depends on it. The current warming should also remind us that the ocean is not an inexhaustible resource. It has regulated our climate, sustained our communities, supported our economies and linked our peoples for generations. Yet we still behave as though its capacity to absorb our impacts has no limits. It does.

The islands of the Indian Ocean are not asking for sympathy. We are calling for shared responsibility. We know that ocean health is inseparable from the security of our people. We know that protecting nature and pursuing development must go hand in hand. And we know that every year of delay makes adaptation more costly, the damage more severe and the choices before us more difficult. As a result, the Indian Ocean is sounding the alarm. Its islands are among the first to hear it. But the warning is not ours alone. It is for every country whose climate, food security, economy and future depend on a living ocean.

James Michel, is Former President of the Republic of Seychelles

IPS UN Bureau

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Simita Kumar, Education Officer at the Pacific Community (SPC), leads an engaging activity on the biodiversity of intertidal and coral reef ecosystems with young participants at the Veivueti Kids Ocean Conference. Credit: SPC

By Sera Sefeti
SUVA, Fiji, Aug 26 2026 (IPS)

For generations, Pacific children have grown up with the ocean as part of everyday life. It is where families fish, where stories are passed down, where livelihoods begin and where cultures are rooted.

Yet many young people are inheriting an ocean facing pressures unlike anything their ancestors experienced, from warming seas and coral bleaching to plastic pollution and declining marine ecosystems.

In New Caledonia, the ocean is becoming a classroom.

Students are collecting and analysing macro-, meso- and micro-plastics, measuring coastal erosion alongside environmental specialists and removing invasive species. They are also meeting women scientists and ocean professionals, discovering not only the challenges facing the sea but also the many professions and possibilities connected to it.

The work is being led by Comité Égalité pour tous à l’école, an NGO in New Caledonia, in partnership with the Pacific Community (SPC), bringing local ocean issues into student learning through hands-on activities and real-world experiences.

“Our programme raises awareness among young people across the Pacific about the challenges and professions of the sea in all its dimensions, with particular focus on gender equality and highlighting the role of women in ocean-related careers, science, and innovation,” says Véronique Mollot Lehoullier, President of Comité Égalité pour tous à l’école.

The programme began in New Caledonia in 2021 and has since extended to French Polynesia and Vanuatu, with the ambition of developing a model that can be replicated across Oceania.

At its heart is a simple idea: children learn best when they can experience what they are being taught.

For Mollot Lehoullier, the ocean cannot be understood through theory alone.

“It is by discovering ocean-related professions firsthand, meeting women scientists and professionals, and taking part in field trips that students truly grasp the stakes of protecting and valuing lagoon ecosystems,” she says.

“This hands-on approach turns abstract awareness into lasting civic engagement, giving young people concrete role models to identify with girls and boys alike.”

Students at the Veivueti Kids Ocean Conference taking part in an interactive activity at the SPC booth, identifying marine organisms commonly found in tidal zone ecosystems. Credit: SPC

That approach is helping turn ocean education from something children read about into something they can see, touch and experience.

It is also opening a window to futures they may not have previously imagined.

For a young girl, meeting a woman working in marine science or conservation can make an ocean-related career feel possible. For boys, it reinforces that the ocean and the responsibility to protect it belong to everyone.

And the response from students has been striking.

“They don’t watch the clock, and they’re never in a hurry to finish,” Mollot Lehoullier says.

Many students do not want to return to their regular classrooms. Instead, they stay behind to continue speaking with professionals, asking questions and taking part in activities.

“These aren’t theoretical lessons but activities the students are fully part of, so for them it doesn’t feel like work at all, it feels like interactive discovery.”

That sense of discovery is becoming increasingly important as Pacific communities confront a rapidly changing ocean.

For Maëva Tesan, Information, Communication and Knowledge Officer at SPC’s Pacific Community Centre for Ocean Science (PCCOS), strengthening ocean knowledge and ocean literacy in New Caledonia is an important part of that regional effort.

“While many local organisations are already actively working in this field, we have also expanded our involvement this year through several local initiatives, including the Sea Festival and the Science Festival,” she says.

For SPC, partnering with Comité Égalité pour tous à l’école builds on the organisation’s existing role in promoting inclusive education and brings together a shared commitment to raising young people’s awareness of the ocean.

“By working together, we can combine our expertise to strengthen ocean education and inspire the next generation of ocean stewards in New Caledonia,” Tesan says.

The ambition extends beyond one country.

The programme’s reach into French Polynesia and Vanuatu reflects a broader regional approach: building on local initiatives while sharing knowledge, resources and experiences across the Pacific.

Summit participants take part in a hands-on field activity, identifying marine organisms collected for study. Credit: SPC

From New Caledonia to Fiji

Across Fiji, a quiet movement is helping change how the next generation sees the ocean. Children who once viewed the sea simply as a place to swim, fish or spend time with friends are beginning to understand something much deeper: that the future of the Blue Pacific depends on the choices they make today.

For Hannah Nanovu, Whole School Ocean Coordinator at the International School Suva, watching that transformation unfold is one of the most rewarding parts of her work.

“Every year, the students surprise and inspire me through their passion, creativity, and commitment to learning more about the ocean and taking action,” Nanovu says.

“This year, having students travel from Beqa to participate was particularly inspiring, and seeing the conference grow each year, with more schools joining and schools travelling further to be part of it, reminds me that we are building a community of young ocean advocates across Fiji.”

That growing community came together once again at Veivueti Kids Ocean Conference, where students explored the ocean not just through science, but through culture, storytelling, traditional knowledge and hands-on learning.

Since developing its Whole School Ocean Programme in 2018, the International School Suva has used the conference to create a space where students can present research, exchange ideas and discover that every child—regardless of where they come from—has a role in protecting the ocean.

Behind that movement is a broader regional effort led by the Pacific Community (SPC).

Together, these efforts are part of a growing movement to strengthen ocean literacy across the Blue Pacific.

Leotasi Kautu, School Principal from Tuvalu, presents the 3D inundation model of Funafuti, developed by SPC and the Government of Tuvalu, to map flood risk and guide climate adaptation. Credit: SPC

Science that Begins at Home

For many students, science can sometimes feel distant.

Words such as biodiversity, ocean circulation, marine ecosystems and climate change can remain confined to textbook concepts to memorise, rather than realities that surround them.

But the Pacific offers a different classroom.

For SPC, this connection between knowledge, place and lived experience is central to strengthening ocean literacy across the region.

“Pacific communities have a deep cultural and traditional connection to the ocean, but more can be done to increase knowledge about ocean ecosystems, the challenges they face, and how we can protect them,” says Doreen Tuala, Team Leader for Curriculum and Assessment at SPC.

“The best place to start addressing this need is through education, especially by engaging young people.”

The challenge and the opportunity is that there is no single Pacific classroom.

The region encompasses hundreds of islands, diverse cultures and languages, different education systems and communities whose relationships with the ocean vary from one place to another.

That means ocean education cannot simply be copied from one country to the next.

Instead, regional approaches need to create space for local knowledge, culture and experience.

Students can investigate the health of coral reefs they know, explore the importance of mangroves to their communities, examine fisheries that support their families and learn about coastal changes occurring around them.

They can also learn from elders and communities, recognising that Pacific peoples have long understood the ocean through observation, experience and generations of lived knowledge.

Tuala says connecting learning to students’ everyday lives gives them an opportunity to investigate issues that are not abstract, but immediate.

These include coral reef health, sustainable fisheries, coastal erosion, marine pollution and the impacts of climate change.

“When students can connect what they are learning to their everyday lives, local environments and cultural knowledge, they are better able to understand these challenges and explore solutions,” she says.

From Learners to Ocean Guardians

Recognising that ocean stewardship begins long before adulthood, SPC is strengthening its regional commitment to ocean literacy through partnerships, education initiatives and practical learning.

Its work includes strengthening science education through a partnership with National Geographic Pristine Seas, expanding locally relevant teaching materials through the EQAP Ocean Literacy Resources Repository, and supporting practical learning experiences such as Fiji’s Veivueti Kids Ocean Conference.

Together, these initiatives are helping bring ocean literacy into Pacific education in ways that reflect the realities of Pacific children.

“Through this partnership, we are bringing together scientific expertise, educational resources and regional networks to support countries in integrating ocean literacy into education systems,” Tuala says.

The partnership combines SPC’s curriculum expertise with National Geographic Pristine Seas’ experience in marine science, exploration and conservation.

But ambition goes beyond lesson plans.

It is about helping close a long-standing gap in structured ocean education that reflects Pacific realities allowing children to learn about marine environments through ecosystems, examples, cultures and experiences they recognize as their own.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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