Water floods in, showing how nature and people are at risk. Trees can’t grow because of salt, leaving no protection. This photo warns about climate change’s effect on the islands and atolls. Credit: Gitty Keziah Yee/Tuvalu
NICE, Jun 12 2025 (IPS) – Prime Minister of Tuvalu, Feleti Teo, describes himself as an optimist—despite the existential crisis his atoll nation faces with climate change-induced sea level rise and frustration with existing international financial mechanisms to fund adaptation and mitigation.
The 3rd UN Ocean Conference was a success, he told a press conference today, June 12. At the beginning of the week, he ratified an agreement under the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea on the Conservation and Sustainable Use of Marine Biological Diversity of Areas beyond National Jurisdiction (BBNJ) and was also now party to the FAO’s international agreement to specifically target illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing—Agreement on Port State Measures (PSMA).
These agreements were crucial.
“The ocean is everything to us—a source of protein, income, and fisheries. It represents 40 percent of the domestic budget. It plays a vital role,” Teo said. But it is a double-edged sword because it also represents the greatest threat because of climate change-induced sea level rise, which for the atoll nation means that more than 50 percent of the country will be regularly inundated by tidal surges by 2050.
So, he needs to contemplate services for the needs of his people in a region where there is no scenario of moving to higher ground—because there isn’t any.
Tuvalu is “totally flat.”
Teo said USD 40-million had been spent on the country’s flagship Tuvalu Coastal Adaptation Project, known as TK of which phase one was completed.
But behind the small success was a clear sense of frustration.
“The coastal adaptation projects will continue into the future,” Teo said. “But it is a very expensive exercise.
Feleti Teo, Prime Minister of Tuvalu, addresses the media at UNOC3. Credit: SPC
He made a quiet plea to development partners and financing mechanisms to be responsive.
“I’ve always urged or requested our development partners and our international financing mechanisms to be able to be more forthcoming in terms of providing the necessary climate financing that we need for us to be able to adapt and give us more time to continue to live in the land that we believe God has given us,” Teo said.
But he later admitted that the frustration with the Loss and Damage Fund and other climate financing mechanisms meant that applications could take as many as eight years to complete. This led to his Pacific partners establishing the Pacific Resilience Facility that would allow the Pacific to invest in small, grant-based but high-impact projects to make communities disaster-ready.
Teo said the UNOC3 had given them an opportunity to articulate their concerns, and he hoped that the states participating in the conference had listened to them.
“We don’t have that influence—except to continue to tell our story.”
The Pacific French Summit was a particular highlight and he believed that French President Emmanuel Macron had the region at heart.
Vizhinjam Port—Inaugurated by Prime Minister Narendra Modi on 2 May 2025, as India’s first deep-water container transshipment hub—has been criticized for displacing fishers and disrupting the sensitive ocean biodiversity. Credit: Aishwarya Bajpai/IPS
THIRUVANANTHAPURAM, India, Jun 8 2025 (IPS) – As the UN Ocean Conference (UNOC) approaches, bringing renewed attention to SDG 14 (Life Below Water) and the rights of ocean-dependent communities, India’s Vizhinjam coast highlights the environmental injustice and human cost of unchecked coastal development.
Kerala’s traditional fishworkers—communities historically rooted to the sea—are now facing irreversible disruption due to the controversial Vizhinjam Port project.
Despite repeated rejections by multiple expert appraisal committees over severe environmental concerns, the Vizhinjam Port—Inaugurated by Prime Minister Narendra Modi on 2 May 2025, as India’s first deep-water container transshipment hub—was approved under questionable circumstances.
Experts have raised serious concerns about the compromised Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) process for the Vizhinjam Port, calling it a “cut-copy-paste” job lifted from unrelated projects. The port’s viability studies were manipulated to overlook ecological threats and suppress dissenting community voices.
According to Vijayan M.J., Director of the Participatory Action Research Coalition—India, “The first viability study by Ernst & Young clearly said the port was not feasible—environmentally or economically. So did the second. But both were dismissed, and a third study was commissioned with the clear expectation that it would declare the project viable. They didn’t even put the E&Y logo on the final report—just the names of the two researchers. That tells you something.”
Breaking the Coast: Ecological Damage and Fisher Exclusion
In spite of these warnings, the Vizhinjam Port project moved forward in a coastal region already burdened by extensive human intervention. As of 2022, Kerala’s 590-kilometer coastline hosted a major port at Kochi and intermediate ports in Thiruvananthapuram, Alappuzha, Kozhikode, and Thalassery. The shoreline was further segmented by 25 fishing harbors, multiple breakwaters, and 106 groynes. Nearly 310 kilometers of this coastline had already been transformed into artificial stretches.
These cumulative constructions had already disrupted the natural rhythms of the coast, causing severe erosion in some areas and sediment build-up in others—ultimately leading to the loss of accessible beaches. To mitigate these impacts, the state installed additional seawalls and groynes, which only further interfered with the marine ecosystem and traditional fishing practices.
For Kerala’s fishworkers, this pattern of exclusion and ecological damage is not new.
The situation intensified with the onset of Vizhinjam Port’s construction, when hundreds of local fishers were abruptly informed that they could no longer fish near their home shores due to the imposition of shipping lanes and designated no-fishing zones.
This pattern of exclusion deepened when the state government handed over large portions of the Thiruvananthapuram coast, including Vizhinjam, to the Adani Group.
Amid rising protests in places like Perumathura and Muthalappozhi—where heavy siltation and repeated fisher deaths had triggered alarm—the government assured that Adani’s involvement would provide solutions, including constructing embankments and regularly dredging the estuary to keep it navigable. However, these promises quickly fell apart.
As Vipin Das, a fishworker from Kerala, recalls, “Adani took over the entire beach and built an office complex. Now, even stepping onto the shore requires his office’s permission.”
According to local accounts, the company’s first move was to dismantle the southern embankment to allow barge access to the port. This action disrupted natural sediment flows and caused a severe blockage of the estuary. “When floodwaters began threatening nearby homes, a JCB was rushed in to reopen the embankment—but it was already too late,” Vipin adds. “Adani’s entry didn’t solve anything—it only worsened the crisis and destroyed our coastline.”
From Biodiversity Hotspot to Danger Zone
Once a biodiversity hotspot, Vizhinjam’s marine ecosystem boasted 12 reef systems and one of the world’s 20 rare ‘wedge banks’—a critical oceanic zone near Kanyakumari where hundreds of fish species fed and reproduced. Fishers remember it as a “harbor of procreation,” teeming with over 200 varieties of fish and more than 60 aquatic species.
However, intense dredging, altered wave patterns, and ongoing port operations have severely damaged this fragile marine ecosystem. In 2020, Kerala recorded a 15 percent decline in fish catch, and the numbers have continued to fall in the years since—threatening both biodiversity and the livelihoods that depend on it.
The state’s response has been displacement disguised as compensation, offering ₹10 lakh (USD 12,000) as a one-time payment to those willing to leave their homes instead of addressing systemic erosion and disaster risks, said Vijayan.
The situation further took a catastrophic turn on May 24, 2025, when a massive shipwreck occurred off the Vizhinjam coast.
While authorities framed it as an isolated incident, environmentalists and coastal communities argue it was a disaster waiting to happen—fueled by years of unregulated dredging and reckless port expansion.
“The sea is poisoned; people are saying not to eat fish,” shared Vipin. “But it’s not just rumors—there are chemicals, plastics, and fuel. And we, who had nothing to do with this, are the first to suffer.”
With livelihoods already battered by monsoon storms and port restrictions, fishers now face public panic, polluted waters, and a poisoned food chain. “This isn’t just an accident—it’s a man-made disaster,” Vipin added. “The state must act swiftly to hold the company accountable and compensate the coastal communities who are paying the highest price.”
However, earlier this year Vizhinjam International Seaport Ltd. told the Business and Human Rights Resource Centre that “Environment Clearance accorded to Vizhinjam Port has stood the test of legal scrutiny, having gone through litigation before the National Green Tribunal, New Delhi.”
It continued, “The Port operations and fishing/ancillary activities coexist all over the world and both activities are continuing as per the rules and regulations prevailing in the democratic country of India. It may also be noted that Vizhinjam port construction has been carried out with best practices, including stakeholder engagement, taking the community into confidence.”
Noor Mukadam at a protest outside the Islamabad Press Club, holding a poster demanding justice for a rape survivor. The photo was taken on September 12, 2020. She was murdered by her partner on 20 July 2021. Credit: Shafaq Zaidi
KARACHI, Pakistan, Jun 4 2025 (IPS) – “It’s brought me some closure,” said Shafaq Zaidi, a school friend of Noor Mukadam, reacting to the Supreme Court’s May 20 verdict upholding both the life sentence and death penalty for Noor’s killer, Zahir Jaffer.
“Nothing can bring Noor back, but this decision offers a sense of justice—not just for her, but for every woman in Pakistan who’s been told her life doesn’t matter,” Zaidi told IPS over the phone from Islamabad. “It’s been a long and painful journey—four years of fighting through the sessions court, high court, and finally, the Supreme Court.”
Echoing a similar sentiment, rights activist Zohra Yusuf said, “It’s satisfying that the Supreme Court upheld the verdict,” but added that the crime’s brutality left little room for relief. “It was so horrific that one can’t even celebrate the judgment,” she said, referring to the “extreme” sadism Noor endured—tortured with a knuckleduster, raped, and beheaded with a sharp weapon on July 20, 2021.
Yusuf also pointed out that the “background” of those involved is what drew national attention.
Noor Mukadam, 27, was the daughter of a former ambassador, while Zahir Jaffer, 30, was a dual Pakistan-U.S. national from a wealthy and influential family. Her father and friends fought to keep the case in the public eye, refusing to let it fade into yet another forgotten statistic.
Still, the response has been muted—many, including Yusuf, oppose the death penalty.
The Human Rights Commission of Pakistan recorded at least 174 death sentences in 2024—a sharp rise from 102 in 2023—yet not a single execution was reportedly carried out. The last known hanging was in 2019, when Imran Ali was executed for the rape and murder of six-year-old Zainab Ansari.
However, Noor’s father, Shaukat Ali Mukadam, has repeatedly stated that the death sentence for Zahir Jaffer was “very necessary,” emphasizing, “This isn’t just about my daughter—it’s about all of Pakistan’s daughters,” referencing the countless acts of violence against women that go unpunished every day.
The HRCP’s 2024 annual report painted a grim picture of gender-based violence against women in Pakistan.
According to the National Police Bureau, at least 405 women were killed in so-called honor crimes. Domestic violence remained widespread, resulting in 1,641 murders and over 3,385 reports of physical assault within households.
Sexual violence showed no sign of slowing. Police records documented 4,175 reported rapes, 733 gang rapes, 24 cases of custodial sexual assault, and 117 incidents of incest-related abuse—a chilling reminder of the dangers women face in both public and private spaces. HRCP’s media monitoring also revealed that at least 13 transgender individuals experienced sexual violence—one was even killed by her family in the name of honor.
The digital space offered no refuge either. The Digital Rights Foundation recorded 3,121 cases of cyber-harassment, most reported by women in Punjab.
Justice Remains Elusive
But numbers alone can’t capture the brutality—or the deep-rooted disregard for women that drives it.
“We recently took a man to court and secured maintenance for twin baby girls,” said Haya Zahid, CEO of the Karachi-based Legal Aid Society (LAS). “The father divorced their young mother while she was still in the hospital—just because she gave birth to daughters.”
LAS offers free legal aid to those who can’t afford it, handling cases like rape, murder, acid attacks, forced and child marriages, and domestic violence.
Bassam Dhari, also from LAS, recalled Daya Bheel’s gruesome murder, which took place after Noor Mukadam’s but failed to stir national attention because it happened in a remote village in Sindh’s Sanghar district.
“She was skinned, her eyeballs removed, her breasts chopped off, and her head severed from her body,” said Dhari.
He said the postmortem report confirmed that she was neither raped nor sexually assaulted, and the attack did not appear to be driven by rage or revenge.
While Mukadam’s family may have found closure, justice remains elusive for thousands of Pakistani women.
“Noor Mukadam’s case is indeed a rare instance where justice was served,” said Syeda Bushra, another lawyer at the LAS.
“It’s not that there aren’t enough laws to protect women and children—far from it,” said Bushra. “There are plenty of laws, but what good are they if investigations are weak?” According to her, only a small percentage of women can seek redress. “Justice is denied or delayed every single day,” she added.
“The problem is that these laws are crafted in a social vacuum,” observed Fauzia Yazdani, a gender and governance expert with over 30 years of experience working with national governments, the UN, and bilateral development partners in Pakistan.
She acknowledged that although many progressive, women-friendly laws have been passed over the years, they’ve failed to resonate in a society resistant to change. “Laws are essential, but no amount of legislation can end violence against women if the societal mindset remains misogynistic, patriarchal, and permissive of such crimes,” she said.
Buying Justice Through Blood Money
At the same time, Dahri highlighted critical flaws in the justice system.
In Pakistan, where the death penalty remains legal under its Islamic status, such sentences can be overturned through the diyat (blood money) law, which allows perpetrators to buy forgiveness by compensating the victim’s family.
“In our country, money can buy anything,” said Dahri. “This blood money law is routinely abused by the rich and powerful to literally get away with murder.”
He stressed the urgent need to reform these laws. “Many families initially refuse compensation, but intense pressure and threats—especially against the poor—often force them to give in.”
In 2023, 10-year-old Fatima Furiro’s death might have gone unnoticed if two graphic videos—showing her writhing in pain, then collapsing—hadn’t gone viral. The resulting public outcry led to her body being exhumed. Her employer, a powerful feudal lord in Sindh’s Khairpur district, who appeared in the footage, was swiftly arrested.
He spent a year in prison before the case was closed, after Fatima’s impoverished family accepted blood money—despite forensic evidence confirming she had been raped, beaten, and tortured over time.
Shafaq Zaidi—Noor Mukadam’s school friend—stood outside the Islamabad Press Club on July 25, 2021, at the very spot where Noor had once protested. This time, Zaidi was seeking justice for Noor herself, who had been killed just days earlier, on July 20, 2021. Courtesy: Shafaq Zaidi
Law vs Prejudice
Alongside a flawed justice system, women must battle deep-rooted social taboos—amplified by relentless victim-blaming and shaming.
“In such an environment,” said Bushra, “it’s no surprise that many women, worn down by the long and exhausting process, eventually withdraw their complaints.”
“A woman’s trial begins long before she ever enters a courtroom,” said Dahri.
In Noor Mukadam’s case, the claim of a “live-in relationship”—real or fabricated—was used by the convict’s lawyer to downgrade his death sentence for rape to life imprisonment.
“A boy and girl living together is a misfortune for our society,” remarked Justice Hashim Kakar, who led the three-member bench hearing Mukadam’s case.
“Her reputation was sullied—even in death,” said Yazdani, adding that judges should refrain from moralizing and preaching.
“A judge’s verdict should rest solely on an impartial reading of the law,” said Bushra.
But as Dahri pointed out, few lawyers in Pakistan dare to say this openly. “Judges can take it personally,” he said, “and we risk facing repercussions in our very next case.”
According to Yazdani, even a few targeted reforms—like faster hearings, clearing case backlogs, setting up GBV and child protection courts, and training judges, lawyers, and police on the realities of misogyny and gender-based violence—could cut victim-blaming in half.
But she also offered a word of caution: reforms alone don’t guarantee empathy, which she called the cornerstone of real justice.
“Social change doesn’t happen overnight,” Yazdani said. “Anthropologically speaking, it takes five years for change to take root—and another ten for it to truly take hold.”
Gender balance matters in justice
Judicial gender inequality worsens the situation. Some experts argue that increasing the number of women judges and lawyers could lead to a more fair, dynamic, and empathetic justice system.
A 2024 report by the Law and Justice Commission of Pakistan (LJCP) reveals that women make up less than 20 percent of the country’s judges, lawyers, and judicial officers—an alarming gap in a nation of over 117 million women. Of the 126 judges in the superior judiciary, only seven are women—just 5.5 percent. In the Supreme Court, that number drops to two.
Meanwhile, the 26 judges of the apex court (including the chief justice) are burdened with a backlog of more than 56,000 cases—not all related to violence against women.
Bushra believes more women must be encouraged to enter the justice sector—particularly as prosecutors, police officers, and judges. “I’ve seen how distressed victims become when forced to repeat their ordeal to male officers—often multiple times,” she said.
But she emphasized that simply increasing the number of women won’t end victim-blaming or guarantee survivor-centric justice. “Everyone in the system—including women—must be genuinely gender-sensitized to overcome personal biases and deep-rooted stereotypes,” said Bushra.
Special Courts
In 2021, the government passed the Anti-Rape (Investigation and Trial) Act, leading to the formation of an anti-rape committee by the Ministry of Law and Justice to support victims, including setting up special courts nationwide. “Special investigation units with trained prosecutors now handle 77 percent of complaints, and 91 percent of cases go to special courts,” said Nida Aly of AGHS, a Lahore-based law firm offering free legal aid and part of the committee.
By 2022, Sindh had set up 382 such units. Aly noted that a survivor-centered, time-bound, and coordinated approach raised conviction rates from 3.5 percent to 5 percent. A national sex offenders registry, managed by police, was launched in 2024. In Punjab, all 36 districts now have crisis and protection centers offering legal and psychosocial support, though some face resource limitations.
Nearly five years after gender-based violence courts were established in Karachi, she sees a promising shift in how judges handle such cases. “Prosecutors now take time to prepare women complainants—something that never happened before,” she said.
However, she added, the number of such courts and sensitized judges remains a drop in the ocean compared to the overwhelming number of violence committed against women and such cases flooding the system across Sindh.
May 29 2025 (IPS) – CIVICUS discusses the devastating impact of palm oil extraction in West Papua with Tigor Hutapea, legal representative of Pusaka Bentala Rakyat, an organisation campaigning for Indigenous Papuan people’s rights to manage their customary lands and forests.
Tigor Hutapea
In West Papua, Indigenous communities are boycotting palm oil products, accusing major corporations of profiting from environmental devastation and human rights abuses. Beyond environmental damage, Indigenous leaders are fighting what they describe as an existential threat to their cultural survival. Large-scale deforestation has destroyed ancestral lands and livelihoods, with Indonesian authorities enabling this destruction by issuing permits on contested Indigenous territories. Local activists characterise this situation as ecocide and are building international coalitions to hold companies and government officials accountable.
What are the problems with palm oil?
In West Papua, one of the world’s richest biodiversity centres, oil palm plantation expansion is causing what we call ecocide. By 2019, the government had issued permits for plantations covering 1.57 million hectares of Indigenous forest land to 58 major companies, all without the free, prior and informed consent of affected communities.
The environmental damage is already devastating, despite only 15 per cent of the permitted area having been developed so far. Palm oil plantations have fundamentally altered water systems in regions such as Merauke, causing the Bian, Kumbe and Maro rivers to overflow during rainy seasons because plantations cannot absorb heavy rainfall. Indigenous communities have lost access to forests that provided food and medicine and sustained cultural practices, while monoculture crops have replaced biodiverse ecosystems, leading to the disappearance of endemic animal species.
How are authorities circumventing legal protections?
There’s unmistakable collusion between government officials and palm oil companies. In 2023, we supported the Awyu Indigenous people in a landmark legal case against a Malaysian-owned company. The court found the government had issued permits without community consent, directly violating West Papua’s special autonomy laws that require Indigenous approval for land use changes.
These actions contravene national regulations and international law, including the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which guarantees the right to free, prior and informed consent. Yet despite clear legal violations, authorities continue defending these projects by citing tax revenue and economic growth. They are clearly prioritising corporate profits over Indigenous rights and environmental protection.
The government’s response to opposition is particularly troubling. There is a systematic pattern of human rights violations against people defending their lands. When communities protest against developments, they face arbitrary arrests, police intimidation and violence. Police frequently disperse demonstrations by force, and community leaders are threatened with imprisonment or falsely accused of disrupting development. In some cases, they are labelled as separatists or anti-government to delegitimise their activism and justify repression.
What tactics are proving effective for civil society?
Indigenous communities are employing both traditional and modern resistance approaches. Many communities have performed customary rituals to symbolically reject plantations, imposing cultural sanctions that carry significant spiritual weight in their societies. Simultaneously, they’re engaging with legal systems to challenge permit violations.
Civil society organisations like ours support these efforts through environmental impact assessments, legal advocacy and public awareness campaigns. This multi-pronged approach has gained significant traction: in 2023, our Change.org petition gathered 258,178 signatures, while the #AllEyesOnPapua social media campaign went viral, demonstrating growing international concern.
Despite these successes, we face an uphill battle. The government continues pushing ahead with new agribusiness plans, including sugarcane and rice plantations covering over two million additional hectares of forest. This threatens further environmental destruction and Indigenous rights violations. Supporters of our movement are increasingly highlighting the global climate implications of continued deforestation in this critical carbon sink region.
What specific international actions would help protect West Papua?
Consumer power represents one of our strongest allies. International consumers can pressure their governments to enforce laws that prevent the import of products linked to human rights abuses and deforestation. They should also demand companies divest from harmful plantation projects that violate Indigenous rights.
At the diplomatic level, we need consistent international pressure on Indonesia to halt large-scale agribusiness expansion in West Papua and uphold Indigenous rights as defined in national and international laws. Foreign governments with trade relationships must make human rights and environmental protection central to their engagement with Indonesia, not peripheral concerns. Without concerted international action, West Papua’s irreplaceable forests and the Indigenous communities who have sustainably managed them for generations face an existential threat. This isn’t just a local issue: the destruction of one of the world’s most biodiverse regions affects us all.
Golenur Begum watched her house being washed away twice by powerful storms that hit the coastal village of Sinharatoli in southwestern Bangladesh. Now the women from her village and others are climate-proofing their communities by planting mangroves.
New mangroves have been created in various areas to reduce climate change risks in Badamtoli village of Dakop upazila (sub-district) of Khulna district. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS
SHYAMNAGAR, Bangladesh , May 16 2025 (IPS) – Golenur Begum has faced 12 cyclones in her life. As a child, she witnessed her father’s house destroyed, and as an adult, she watched her home smashed. Saltwater brought by the tidal surges that accompanied the cyclones wrecked their farms and livelihoods. And with climate change, these impacts are becoming more intense and frequent.
“Sixteen years ago, in 2009, my house was washed away by Cyclone Aila. At first, we sheltered on a raised dirt road near our house. After the road was submerged, we rushed to a shelter two kilometers from the village to save our lives. The next day, when we returned to the village, we saw that many more houses had been destroyed. Shrimp farms, vegetable fields, chicken farms, and ponds submerged in salt water,” Golenur (48), who lives in Sinhartoli village, remembers.
She is not alone. Sahara Begum (32), Rokeya Begum (45), and Anguri Bibi (44), from the same village, spoke of the same crisis.
A new mangrove in front of Golenur Begum’s house in Singhahartali village of Shyamnagar upazila (sub-district) of Satkhira district. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS
Neelima Mandal points to the mangrove in front of her house in Chunkuri village of Shyamnagar upazila (sub-district) of Satkhira district. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS
Climate-vulnerable Sinharatoli village is part of Munshiganj Union of Shyamnagar Upazila (sub-district) in the Satkhira district in southwestern Bangladesh. The Malanch River flows past the village.
On the other side of the river is the World Heritage Sundarbans—a mangrove forest area in the Ganges Delta formed by the confluence of the Ganges, Brahmaputra, and Meghna Rivers in the Bay of Bengal.
Most of the people in the villages along the Malanch River lost their livelihoods and homes due to Cyclone Aila. Not only Aila—Golenur has faced 12 cyclones.
Neelima Mandal, 40, of Chunkuri village, a village adjacent to the Sundarbans, says, “Due to frequent cyclones, the embankments on the riverbank collapsed. The tidal water of the Malanch River used to enter our houses directly. As a result, both our livelihoods and lives were in crisis.”
The southwestern coast of Bangladesh is facing many crises due to climate change. The people of this region are very familiar with the effects of tides, cyclones, and salinity. They survive by adapting to these dangers. But, despite their resilience, there are not enough strong embankments in this region. Although embankments were built in the 1960s, they are mostly weak. If cyclones become more intense with a changing climate, people’s lives will be even more affected.
New mangroves protect houses at risk of climate change on the embankment in Chunkuri village of Shyamnagar upazila (sub-district) of Satkhira district. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS
What kind of benefits are the villagers getting from the newly created mangrove forest? This graph shows the results of the opinions gathered from 100 people from villages near the Sundarbans. Graph: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS
Despite the mangrove-rich Sundarbans, which include four enlisted and protected areas by UNESCO, which should protect them, the southwestern coastal districts of Bangladesh. The Sundarbans themselves are also facing a crisis due to frequent cyclones. The 2007 cyclone Sidr caused extensive damage, which took several years to recover from. According to a study by the Change Initiative, dense forest covered 94.2 percent of the Sundarbans in 1973. In 2024, it had decreased to 91.5 percent. The people of this region face extreme events during the cyclone season when the tide height reaches up to 3 meters (10 feet).
Mangrove Wall for Vulnerable Communities
In 2013 the women in this community began building a mangrove wall—a sign that they were not going to let the climate dictate their future.
The wall now stands where the water from the storm surge entered Golenur’s house during Cyclone Sidr in 2007 and Cyclone Aila in 2009. Now she does not have to worry about her livelihood and home as much. Apart from protection from natural hazards, the forest provides her with many other economic benefits.
“When we started planting mangrove seedlings here, the entire area was devoid of trees. Tidal water once submerged the area. In a few years, a mangrove forest has formed in the vacant space. More than 500 people from about 100 houses in the village are now free from natural hazards,” says Golenur.
A mangrove safety wall now also covers Chunkuri village, which was similarly vulnerable. The villagers take care of the mangroves and benefit from them.
Many women in Banishanta village of Dakop upazila (sub-district) of Khulna district are happy and financially better off after starting a mangrove nursery. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS
Abandoned seeds floating from the Sundarbans are processed into seedlings in the nursery at Namita Mondal’s nursery in Dhangmari village of Dakop upazila (sub-district) of Khulna district. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS
“Mangroves help us secure our livelihood. We can collect fodder for our cattle from the forest. Mangroves help us reduce heat,” added Sabitri Mondal, a resident of Chunkuri village.
Since 2008, BARCIK has planted 1,800 mangrove trees in coastal villages, including Koikhali, Burigoalini, Munshiganj, Gabura, Padmapukur, and Atulia in the Shyamnagar upazila of Satkhira. BEDS has planted over one million mangrove saplings in 146.55 hectares of land in Shyamnagar, Satkhira, and Dakop, Khulna, since 2013.
Maksudur Rahman, CEO of BEDS, says, ‘To save mangroves, we need to involve the local community. If we can provide alternative livelihoods to the local community, the mangroves will also be saved and the people will be protected. The initiative that we have been continuing since 2013 is already reaping the benefits of the community.’
Abandoned seeds are a source of livelihood
“The mangrove nursery is now the driving force of my family. The income from the nursery is what keeps my family going. My husband and I no longer have to go to the risky Sundarbans to catch fish and crabs. Alternative livelihoods have made my life safer,’ said Namita Mandal of Dhangmari village in Dakop upazila of Khulna district.
Women plant mangrove seedlings in Dakop upazila (sub-district) of Khulna district. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS
Namita Mandal maintains a mangrove nursery in Dhangmari village in Dakop upazila (sub-district) of Khulna district. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS
The mangrove seeds are a source of livelihood for women in villages near the Sundarbans. Once upon a time, families used to wait for seeds and leaves that floated from the Sundarbans to cook. They would dry them and save them for cooking. But many women like Namita have started nurseries with those abandoned seeds. Seedlings are being grown in the nursery from the seeds and new mangroves are being formed from those seedlings. Many more women in villages near the Sundarbans have chosen mangrove nurseries as a source of livelihood.
Seedlings suitable for mangroves are grown in the nursery. The tree species include keora (Sonneratia apetala), baen (Avicennia alba), gewa (Excoecaria agallocha), khulshi (Aegiceras corniculatum), kankra (Bruguiera gymnorrhiza), golpata (Nypa fruticans), and goran (Ceriops decandra). The seeds of these trees float down from the Sundarbans.
Her income from the nursery has increased significantly in the past few years. ‘I sold seedlings worth 50,000 taka ($426) in a year. My nursery has expanded. The number of employees has increased. In 2023, I sold seedlings worth about 4 lakh taka ($3,407) from my nursery to some clients, including the Bangladesh Forest Department, international NGO BRAC, and BEDS,’ added Namita.
Rakibul Hasan Siddiqui, Associate Professor at the Institute of Integrated Studies on Sundarbans Coastal Ecosystem, Khulna University, said, ‘The Sundarbans and its surrounding settlements are severely affected by rising sea levels and frequent cyclones in the Bay of Bengal. Sundarbans Restoration is helping to protect coastal residents from any kind of natural disaster.” Note: This feature is published with the support of Open Society Foundations.
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Confluence of the Indus and Zanskar Rivers Credit: martinho Smart/shutterstock.com
May 12 2025 (IPS) – On April 23, India suspended the Indus Water Treaty (IWT), a 65-year-old agreement that had been a rare symbol of cooperation between India and Pakistan despite decades of hostility. The suspension came a day after militants attacked civilians in Jammu and Kashmir, a disputed region, killing 26 people, most of them Indian tourists. India accused Pakistan of supporting “cross-border terrorism” and responded by halting the treaty. Pakistan denied involvement in the attack and called India’s move an “act of war.”
The IWT, signed in 1960, was a landmark agreement that allowed the two countries to share the water of the Indus River system. It gave India control over the eastern tributaries (Ravi, Sutlej, and Beas), and Pakistan control over the western tributaries (Indus, Jhelum, and Chenab). Beyond water-sharing, the treaty established mechanisms for data sharing, technical cooperation and dispute resolution. For decades, the treaty was celebrated as a triumph of diplomacy and environmental cooperation. But its suspension now threatens to unravel this legacy, with devastating consequences – especially for Pakistan.
Why the IWT Matters
Pakistan’s economy depends heavily on agriculture, which employs nearly 70% of its rural workforce. The Indus River irrigates 80% of the country’s farmland, making it a lifeline for millions. If India were to divert or reduce water flows, it could cripple Pakistan’s agriculture, triggering widespread food insecurity and economic instability. The stakes are high, and the consequences of failing to manage shared water resources responsibly would ripple far beyond Pakistan’s borders.
The timing of the IWT’s suspension couldn’t be worse. Climate and environmental risks are escalating across the Asia–Pacific region, with extreme weather events becoming more frequent and severe. Between 2008-2023, floods displaced 57 million people in India alone. In Pakistan, floods have not only destroyed homes but have also degraded soil quality, leaving farmers unable to grow enough crops to survive. These pressures are driving migration to cities, where migrants face exploitative conditions and often accrue large debts.
Climate Risks and Regional Instability
The link between climate change and regional instability is becoming impossible to ignore. In Central Asia, a 2021 clash over transboundary water resources between Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan left 50 dead and displaced 10,000 others. In the Pacific, rising sea levels are forcing entire communities to relocate, sparking tensions in countries like Papua New Guinea and the Solomon Islands. Meanwhile, large-scale infrastructure projects, such as hydroelectric dams in Southeast Asia, are displacing thousands and straining relations between countries like Laos, Thailand and Vietnam.
The demand for critical minerals to build renewable energy sources is adding another layer of complexity. Competition between China and the U.S over these resources is heightening global tensions. Critical mineral mining is also fuelling exploitation and violence in mining regions, like the Philippines and Indonesia. These examples highlight a troubling reality: climate and environmental risks are not just environmental issues – they are also security issues.
The Case for Regional Cooperation
Responding to these challenges requires a collective approach. Climate risks don’t respect national borders, and attempting to tackle them in isolation is a losing strategy. Cooperation offers a way to pool resources, share knowledge, and build resilience. For low-income countries in particular, regional solidarity—through climate finance, data sharing and technological transfer—could mean the difference between survival or collapse.
But cooperation isn’t just about survival; it’s also about seizing opportunities. Joint climate action can strengthen regional ties, foster peace and create shared prosperity. Cross-border collaboration on climate and environmental issues can connect institutions, research communities, and civil society, laying the groundwork to tackle future challenges. By working together, the Asia–Pacific region can turn shared challenges into shared strengths.
The suspension of the IWT is a wake-up call. At a time when cooperation is more critical than ever, we cannot afford to let geopolitical tensions derail climate action. The Asia–Pacific region faces immense challenges, but it also holds immense potential. By prioritising collaboration over confrontation, the climate crisis could provide an opportunity for peace, resilience, and shared prosperity. The path forward won’t be easy, but it’s the only path worth taking.
Sinéad Barry is an Analyst at adelphi’s Climate Diplomacy and Security programme. Emma Whitaker is a Senior Advisor at adelphi’s Climate Diplomacy and Security programme.
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from the original with their permission.
