My Climate Story begins with my ancestors crossing the Kala Pani (Black waters) Atlantic Ocean from India to British Guiana as part of the Indentured Servitude. Some came through being captured, some because they were promised lands in British Guiana, and most came without understanding the contract they had signed. My ancestors came to replace the recently freed African slaves. Labor was needed to tend to sugar plantations in the Caribbean and to feed the Europeans who had already profited from the benefits of a capitalist world and cheap labor.

     My story begins here because my ancestors knew how to farm the land. My climate story begins here because my ancestors were resilient and I am fighting for my small coastal country to prepare itself and become resilient to climate change impacts. My climate story begins here because the injustice of climate change has the worst impacts faced by those who contributed the least to the problem. My story begins here as I think about my sisters and brothers in the Small Island and Development States (SIDS) who are already suffering from climate disasters.

     Up until this point, my life was split between growing up in Guyana and spending my late teens and early adulthood in the United States. Two vastly different environments, but both showed clearly the impacts of climate change and environmental injustices. I have seen floods swallow up my tiny city, Georgetown, in 2005. Rates of death from asthma in the Bronx are about three times higher than the national average. Hospitalization rates are about five times higher. This can be directly attributed to pollution. In 2012, I saw that even megacities like New York can be crippled by hurricanes like Sandy. 

     For most of my life, I had no other choice but to get involved in ways to make our planet a more liveable and sustainable place, while prioritizing justice. In every generation, there is a cause to fight against. As someone interested in social justice, I see the connection between climate change on all issues related to justice. Rejecting and rising against the current state of the Earth is the fight of my generation and it is the most important fight we have ever fought. This is not an easy fight, and we live in a time where climate change is still being debated by our leaders, even though those affected continue to cry out for changes in our system.

     Patriarchy, colonialism, racism, and classism are a part of my story. I believe that these are systems that need to be dismantled for us to achieve a just and sustainable world. In my role as a climate advocate, I want to center the voices of those most vulnerable in particular women, youths, and people of color. Speaking from my experience, women face significant challenges that make it impossible for them to participate fully in the discussion that impacts their livelihoods. When climate disasters strike they are the most vulnerable, in Guyana one in every two women experience intimate partner violence. The challenge is complex, it is one that is based on the survival of women and the survival of the planet. 

     The world is crippled by COVID-19, which can be seen as a direct call to repair the relationship with the natural world and to build back better. It is time to build back in a way that is just and equitable for those most vulnerable. Climate change and COVID-19 are justice issues. 2020, a new decade, the beginning of all things new, must serve as a wake-up call for systems change, for radical change in the way our society operates. 

     My generation is the last to act on climate change. My generation is also witnessing the effects of climate change impacts. I care about this issue because I know that within my lifetime, these events will worsen. This is an issue that brings anxiety to those younger than me. 

     When my ancestors were brought to British Guiana, they worked the land for the benefit of the colonizers. What would they say if they knew that those same crops (sugar and rice) are now being threatened by the climate change impacts such as flooding, saltwater intrusion, and increased pests? I was born into this land and fell in love with it, but this land is vulnerable to climate change impacts such as sea-level rise, flooding, heatwaves, air pollution, storm surge, droughts, and deforestation. 

     My ancestors were resilient, and so I believe I can be resilient too. There is much despair and loss but there is also hope, compassion, and revolutionary love that comes from everyday citizens who are committed to making the planet a better and more equitable place. This is my climate story, a story that started with my ancestors, a story that I hope has a positive ending for the generations that come after me. 

The Far North Region of the Republic of Cameroon is the northernmost constituent Area, threefold victim of phenomena such as the Islamic sect Boko-Haram, the Covid-19 pandemic and most importantly the devastating effects of climate change.

Our mission, (fully funded by Global Youth Mobilization and conducted by YUNIBF in early June 2022), took us to the village of Mora in the Mandara Mountains in the far west of the Mayo-Sava Division which is home to the “Kirdi” people. Down there, I witnessed an unexpected climatic situation with serious effects on the environment and human development.The month of June, previously a cool, rainy period characterized by intense rural activities such as farming maize, millet, sorghum, cotton groundnuts…(the main occupation of the indigenous population of the region), is no longer identified as such and that is the observation my team andI made during our sojourn in the Mayo-Sava Division.

The period of our stay was characterized by a strong heat wave reaching 48 degrees Celsius and a rarity of rain ever recorded so far. This year, the area had experienced its very first rain at the beginning of April, thus simulating its early return. This risky simulation was going to deal a hard blow to the population, for it will unfortunately have them misled. In other words, there will be no rain until mid-June (months later), when farmers had rushed to go and sow immediately after the first rain of the year. Lady rain will not return, jeopardizing hundreds of tons of seeds underground, destroyed by a fiery and merciless sun. More than 80 percent of seeds will die from lack of water. The heat is scorching, water is becoming scarce, the lakes are drying up, drought is intensifying, food reserves are dwindling and fear of the worst intensifies. That situation is likely to increase food crisis, malnutrition, environment destruction, and school disruption in the short term. Climate change effects are even threatening peace and harmony in the community and can force millions to move southward in the long term if nothing is done.

On a mission in the area to empower indigenous populations in tackling the phenomenon, my team and I collaborated with the local authorities towards inclusive, sustainable and achievable solutions. To this end, an awareness, training and action program has been jointly developed and implemented. As a result, “30 young girls and boys plus 300 women and men from the indigenous community” (YUNIBF 2022) have been identified, trained and called upon to carry out actions which included the promotion and protection of the environment; the planting of plants, the use of improved hearths in order to preserve trees, avoidance of slash and burn and moreover, the practice of smart agriculture to deal with the threat about food crisis or children education. In this regard, Kourbe Mahama, an indigenous girl from a family of farmers said: “with no income from the farming activities, my educational future is uncertain. When out of school, young girls like me are forced into early marriages. Knowledge on smart agriculture can help us adapt to climate change”.

The population has also been empowered in working with local institutions towards participating in decision-making processes with regards to climate change related issues. Zaké Boukar, the acting Mayor of Mora welcomed the collaboration with indigenous representatives and asked for more actions to tackle the climate crisis in his region. 

In addition to those actions, we have been able to provide financial support to the community’s farmers to leverage the loss of seeds damaged by the lack of rain. Aboubakar Abou, the indigenous community’s representative stated that: “Given the current situation, we can no longer expect anything from what we sowed 45 days ago without water. We are compelled to provide other seeds for a possible return of rain. The thing is that we can do it for all in the community”.  This statement illustrates how important compensation for Loss and Damage is critical for vulnerable communities facing climate crisis.

 In three days of activities, we attempted and implemented solutions that safeguard hopes that humans can sustainably live and develop in that becoming hostile area. Yet, more needs to be done.

Though our actions have significantly impacted the target community, they still remain very limited to reach satisfaction. Consequently, national governments and the international community must fully commit to take appropriate and urgent actions by providing direct solutions to victims or supporting NGOs such as  “Loss and Damage Youth Coalition” (LDYC) which has made loss and damage a top priority so far. This is a right and should not be seen as a favor, considering some related conventions and other relevant legal instruments in this domain, calling on the developed countries (being the biggest polluters), to financially support developing countries to compensate for the loss and damage.

 However, action must be taken now. COP27, fundamentally, is an appropriate platform to advance the cause of loss and damage. Hopefully the missing voices will be heard.

     ″We belong to the family of humanity, we have the right to life and the right to a livable, secure and sustainable environment. We have been living in our land for centuries, we do not want to become climate refugees by tomorrow. Help us stay home! ″ (Indigenous Moura message to cop27 presidency) 

References

1. Yunibf (2022) empowering indigenous people to sustainably tackling climate crisis in Mora
2. Global Youth Mobilization (2022) empowering neglected stakeholders to sustainably tackling climate crisis in Mora
3. YUNIBF(2022) https://www.facebook.com/101167935605051/posts/pfbid0KSGf4fAqssuex1iL92NJQZVqB9JjV2zJ1bn8C8QfetykgLYmxEGk5bLoARULZoCfl/?app=fbl

This is the story of a young man who was forced to leave his village of residence to live in the city: this is my story, I am Paul Lodry.

I was born in Yaounde but I spent part of my life in a village called Mfueng before having to return to the city of Yaounde. 

My martenelle village is in Baleveng, a district located in the west of Cameroon. This beautiful village is mostly home to farmers like my family who cultivated corn, peanuts and beans. 

Having no water supply network, we relied on rainwater and rivers for water to irrigate our fields and supply us with drinking water. 

We were a family of eight people. We lived well and practised agriculture. Our crops were sold on market days which allowed us to provide for our needs. 

Unfortunately, in 2019 the river that supplied us with water for drinking and our crops began to dry out gradually. The name of this river was "ndou dem", which means the river of GOD. It was called this because we believe that it was a gift from GOD. 

We then saw our source of water start to dry up,  and within two years it was completely gone.  The drought that made our river run dry was happening because our rains were becoming increasingly scarce due to climate change.

Faced with this threat to our family, my parents decided to send me back to the city of Yaoundé to escape the crisis. I was not alone, there were several young people in the village, who like me, escaped the drought in order to seek a future in the city. 

Unfortunately, we had no choice but to migrate to the city to escape from famine and poverty. The way of life and the culture in the city were so different from that of my village.  I was forced to accept that I was abandoning my agricultural knowledge, a symbol of our cultural identity associated with other customers such as the practice of "ntio" and "congress" which are gatherings during which we would receive advice from our parents and ancestors of the village through their stories. 

Besides, the more time passes, the more Yemba, which is my local language, is substituted by French and English, which are the languages spoken in the city. I can see my cultural roots disappear like we saw the ndou dem river disappear.

This situation that I lived in is one that many other families like mine around the world are facing. 

Therefore, we call on developed countries to provide new and additional funding to support developing countries and communities like mine to address loss and damage from climate change

Written by Paul Lodry DONGMO

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