Ocean Action Boosted in Africa as Biodiversity Leaders Call for Urgent Synergy, Funding Reform

Africa, Biodiversity, Climate Change Finance, Climate Change Justice, Conferences, Conservation, Editors’ Choice, Environment, Europe, Featured, Global, Headlines, Ocean Health, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations

Biodiversity

Fishers in Tanzania's Lake Victoria drag seized fishing nets to deter overfishing of dwindling nile perch stocks. Credit: Kizito Makoye/IPS

Fishers in Tanzania’s Lake Victoria drag seized fishing nets to deter overfishing of dwindling nile perch stocks. Credit: Kizito Makoye/IPS

NICE, France, Jun 13 2025 (IPS) – As the curtains draw on the UN Ocean Conference, a flurry of voluntary commitments and political declarations has injected fresh impetus into global efforts to conserve marine biodiversity. With the world’s oceans facing unprecedented threats, high-level biodiversity officials and negotiators are sounding the alarm and calling for renewed momentum—and funding—to deliver on long-standing promises.


At a press briefing today, conservation leaders stressed that integrating marine biodiversity into broader biodiversity frameworks and aligning funding strategies with climate goals will be essential for African governments to turn the tide.

“It is a moment of reckoning,” declared Astrid Schomacher, Executive Secretary of the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD). “We are not on track to meet our 2030 biodiversity targets. Yet, the political energy here reminds us that progress is still possible—if we move together and fast.”

The Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework sets out 23 urgent action targets to be achieved by 2030, aiming to halt biodiversity loss and safeguard nature’s contributions to people. These goals call for the protection and restoration of ecosystems, with at least 30 percent of land and sea areas conserved and degraded habitats restored. The framework urges halting species extinction, curbing pollution and invasive species, and mitigating climate impacts on biodiversity.

It also emphasizes sustainable use of wild species, greener urban spaces, and benefit-sharing from genetic resources. Crucially, it calls for integrating biodiversity into policies and business practices, redirecting harmful subsidies, boosting global finance for biodiversity to USD 200 billion annually, and strengthening capacity and cooperation, especially for developing nations. The roadmap recognizes the vital role of Indigenous peoples, equity, and inclusive governance in reversing nature loss, in line with the vision of living in harmony with nature by 2050.

African governments are lagging behind in meeting global biodiversity and sustainability targets, currently spending just 0.43 percent of their GDP on research and development—less than half the global average. With only five years left to meet key conservation goals, a new study by researchers from Imperial College London and the University of Johannesburg urges African policymakers to strengthen collaboration with biodiversity experts.

Schomacher drew attention to the pivotal role of the upcoming COP17 summit, to be hosted by Armenia in 2026, as a “global stocktaking moment” to assess progress halfway through the eight-year timeline for implementing the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework adopted in 2022.

“Every single target in our framework is ocean-related,” she said. “From coastal habitats to deep-sea ecosystems, the ocean is the heartbeat of biodiversity—and it must be protected as such.”

The Yerevan COP, Schomacher added, will also serve to reinforce linkages with the new High Seas Treaty, formally known as the BBNJ agreement (Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction), which many see as a game-changing tool to protect vast, under-governed marine areas.

“CBD processes can kickstart BBNJ implementation,” she explained. “We’re talking about identifying ecologically significant areas, harmonizing spatial planning, and aligning national biodiversity strategies with climate and ocean action. The pieces are there—we just need to connect them.”

Funding Gaps and Harmful Subsidies

But ambition alone won’t be enough, speakers warned. The persistent lack of financial resources—especially for civil society, Indigenous groups, and developing countries—is threatening to unravel hard-won gains.

Deputy Foreign Minister of Armenia, Robert Abhisohromonyan, was rather emphatic in his assertions: “Military expenditures reached USD 2.7 trillion last year. That’s a 9.4 percent increase—and money that could have gone toward the Sustainable Development Goals, climate resilience, or biodiversity protection.”

He also called for an inclusive COP17 that “puts transparency and participation at the center,” with Indigenous peoples, youth, and local communities having a seat at the decision-making table.

Echoing this, Schomacher warned that harmful subsidies—those that damage ecosystems or encourage overexploitation of natural resources—also account for USD 2.7 trillion annually, a figure matching global defense spending.

“This is why, under the global biodiversity framework, parties committed to identifying and eliminating USD 500 billion in harmful subsidies by 2030,” she said. “If we succeed, we not only close the funding gap—we make real gains for nature.”

Private Sector: From Philanthropy to Investment

In a candid exchange with journalists, speakers also grappled with how to better engage the private sector.

“We have to move beyond viewing biodiversity as a philanthropic cause,” Schomacher said. “Nature-based solutions are investable. But the knowledge and confidence to invest in biodiversity are still low compared to renewable energy or infrastructure.”

She cited the Cardi Fund, a new financing mechanism supporting fair benefit-sharing from digital genetic resources, as one example of innovation. The fund seeks contributions from companies using DNA sequence data to build commercial products—reversing the traditional imbalance between biotech profits and Indigenous stewardship.

“It’s not perfect, but it’s a start,” she noted.

Ocean at the Center of Solutions

For Armenia, a landlocked country, hosting COP17 may seem an unlikely choice. Yet Abhisohromonyan made clear that Armenia sees the ocean as central to its environmental agenda.

“We are proof that ocean conservation is not the sole responsibility of coastal states,” he said. “By protecting inland ecosystems and water sources, we support the health of rivers that feed into the seas. It’s all connected.”

Armenia has signed the BBNJ agreement and is developing its National Biodiversity Strategy and Action Plan (NBSAP) to reflect integrated ecosystem management.

But globally, uptake remains sluggish. Of 196 parties to the CBD, only 52 have submitted revised NBSAPs, with just 132 countries submitting national targets so far. Officials say this inertia could jeopardize the global review scheduled for Yerevan.

“We are urging all parties to submit their updated plans and reports by February 2026,” Abhisohromonyan said. “The clock is ticking, and our window for course correction is narrow.”

A Crisis—But Also a Chance

Wrapping up the discussion, Schomacher reflected on the legacy of previous ocean conferences and the urgency of acting on momentum now.

“UN Ocean Conference Two in Portugal gave us the energy to adopt the global biodiversity framework. UNOC3 must now galvanize the political will to implement it,” she said.

“We’re at a crisis point. But if we treat this as an opportunity—not just to protect what remains, but to restore what we’ve lost—we may just chart a new course for our ocean and for all life on Earth.”

As global leaders head into the final plenary, where a political declaration is expected to be adopted, conservationists are watching closely—hoping that the pledges made this week will translate into lasting action for the planet’s blue heart.

IPS UN Bureau Report

 

Atoll Nation of Tuvalu Faces Climate Existential Crisis, Frustration With Slow Funding

Asia-Pacific, Biodiversity, Climate Change, Climate Change Finance, Climate Change Justice, Conferences, Development & Aid, Disaster Management, Editors’ Choice, Environment, Europe, Featured, Human Rights, Humanitarian Emergencies, Natural Resources, PACIFIC COMMUNITY, Pacific Community Climate Wire, Small Island Developing States, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations

Climate Change Finance

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 our islands and atolls. It's a clear sign we need to act to keep our world safe. Credit: Gitty Keziah Yee/Tuvalu

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, Tuvalu addresses the media at UNOC3. Credit: SPC

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.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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‘A Wake-Up Call from the Womb’—Indigenous People Rally for a Binding Plastics Treaty

Active Citizens, Civil Society, Climate Action, Conferences, Conservation, Development & Aid, Editors’ Choice, Environment, Europe, Featured, Global, Headlines, Health, Human Rights, Humanitarian Emergencies, Natural Resources, North America, Ocean Health, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations, Water & Sanitation

Health

Panelists engaged in a discussion with reporters about plastic pollution. Credit: Kizito Makoye/IPS

Panelists engaged in a discussion with reporters about plastic pollution. Credit: Kizito Makoye/IPS

NICE, France, Jun 11 2025 (IPS) – As the sun peeked through the French Riviera clouds and a dozen reporters sipped orange juice aboard the WWF Panda Boat docked at Port Lympia, Frankie Orona, a Native American rights advocate from the Society of Native Nations in San Antonio, Texas, stunned the room into a moment of absolute stillness.


“Imagine a baby in the womb, completely reliant on its mother for air, water, and nutrients—and yet, plastic chemicals are already finding their way into that sacred space,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “That baby has no choice. And neither do future generations if we don’t act now.”

Orona’s stark imagery marked a powerful appeal to the high-level delegation at the UN Ocean Conference on June 10 in Nice, where ministers and representatives from 95 countries backed The Nice Wake-Up Call—a collective demand for an ambitious, legally binding U.N. plastics treaty that addresses the full lifecycle of plastic pollution.

For Orona, the issue is deeply personal and spiritual. “In our culture, the womb is the beginning of the circle of life. Polluting it with plastics is like violating a sacred trust,” he said.

A Crisis in the Making

Plastics are now everywhere—in our oceans, our food, and even our bodies. In 2019 alone, an estimated 28 million metric tons of plastic ended up in the environment—equivalent to dumping the weight of the Titanic into nature every day. Without aggressive intervention, that figure could nearly double by 2040.

For  Orona, who doubles as UNEP co-chair of the Indigenous Peoples Major Group, the negotiations unfolding ahead of the August talks in Geneva are a fight for survival.

Speaking to reporters aboard the WWF Panda, Orona, a descendant of the Tonkawa and Apache tribes, did not mince words. “For Indigenous peoples and frontline communities, plastic pollution is not just an environmental issue—it is a human rights crisis that has been going on for generations,” he said.

With the Mediterranean breeze brushing across the harbor, Orona’s voice cut through the chatter of press briefings and policy handouts. “Our communities live near the extraction sites, the refineries, the chemical plants, the incinerators, and the waste dumps. We are the first to feel the impacts—in our lungs, our water, our food, and our children’s health. And too often, we are the last to be consulted.”

The declaration known as The Nice Wake-Up Call, endorsed by 95 countries at the conference, was a welcome shift in tone for many in the Indigenous rights movement. “It sends a strong signal that many governments are now recognizing what we’ve been saying for decades—that ending plastic pollution means addressing the full life cycle of plastics: from extraction to production to disposal,” Orona said.

From Environmental Damage to Systemic Injustice

Orona, who also represents the International Indigenous Peoples Forum on Plastics and is part of the Plastics Environment Justice Delegation, emphasized that plastic pollution must be understood in the context of historical and ongoing systems of exploitation.

“This is a continuation of environmental racism and systemic injustices. The human rights violations and violence that have been normalized in our communities for generations must stop,” he said.

Citing the disproportionate exposure of Indigenous populations to toxic chemicals used in plastics—some linked to cancer, reproductive harm, and endocrine disruption—he called for a global ban on these additives. “Many of these chemicals are dumped, burned, and leached into our waters, into our sacred lands,” Orona said. “We cannot talk about justice if these harms continue.”

A Just Transition Rooted in Indigenous Knowledge

While many governments are pushing for ambitious production caps and bans on single-use plastics, Orona warned that these measures must not shift the burden onto those least responsible for the crisis.

“A just transition means phasing out fossil fuel-based plastics while investing in community-led solutions, including Indigenous knowledge and science,” he said. “This isn’t just about cleaning up trash; it’s about restoring balance and protecting future generations.”

In a system long dominated by fossil fuel interests and extractive economies, Indigenous communities have often led the way in conservation and sustainable living. “Our knowledge systems are not just cultural—they are scientific. They are proven. And they are part of the solution,” Orona noted.

Follow the Money—and Ensure It Reaches the Frontlines

Orona’s final message was financial. Any treaty, he insisted, must include a mechanism that guarantees direct access to funds for Indigenous and frontline communities.

“Too often, we are shut out of global financing streams—even when we are the ones on the front lines, creating the very solutions the world needs,” he said. “That must end.”

While images of floating plastic bottles and entangled turtles often dominate headlines, experts at the Nice panel were adamant: the crisis begins long before a straw hits the ocean.

Disproportionate Impacts

Plastic production facilities are often located in marginalized communities—adding a layer of environmental injustice to the crisis.

“Indigenous peoples, rural communities, and minority populations suffer the worst impacts,” said Orona. “We’re talking about asthma, cancers, and cardiovascular diseases—especially in children. These are not abstract consequences; these are lived experiences.”

Reporters on the Panda Boat scribbled notes between bites of Mediterranean pastries, visibly moved by Orona’s personal account.

“This is genocide by pollution,” he added. “Our people are dying, and it’s largely invisible to the rest of the world.”

Wildlife at Risk

The panel also underscored the devastating effects of plastic on marine life. Every species of sea turtle has been documented ingesting or getting entangled in plastic. For blue whales, the planet’s largest animals, the reality is even more daunting—they are believed to ingest up to 10 million pieces of microplastic every day, sometimes weighing as much as 44 kilograms.

The next round of negotiations for the plastics treaty is scheduled for August in Geneva, where pressure is mounting to solidify a legally binding agreement that includes all five critical points outlined in the Nice declaration.

The sense of urgency also echoes in the corridors of the International Maritime Organization (IMO), the U.N. agency overseeing the global shipping industry. Tasked with ensuring environmental safety on the high seas, the IMO has stepped up efforts to address plastic waste, among other pressing marine threats.

In response to a question about the devastating 2021 marine spill in Sri Lanka—where a burning cargo vessel released over 1,680 metric tons of plastic pellets into the Indian Ocean—IMO Secretary-General Arsenio Dominguez noted that the agency has been developing new regulations specifically targeting the handling, packaging, and cleanup of plastic pellets. These measures, initially adopted by the European Union, mark a significant step in tightening maritime controls on plastic pollution.

Dominguez stressed that tackling marine pollution also demands inclusive governance. The IMO is increasingly encouraging the participation of Indigenous communities and young people—groups historically sidelined from international maritime decision-making. Their voices, he said, are crucial for shaping policies that are both just and effective.

Next Steps

Professor Bethany Carney Almroth—a renowned environmental toxicologist and one of the leading scientific voices in the negotiations—believes the business world is not the obstacle many assume it to be. Instead, she says, it’s a matter of giving business the legal clarity to act.

“Business follows the rule of law,” she said. “The situation we have today is a mix—some laws are written, others are absent. That’s the problem. If we create new regulations, then it’s no longer a question of whether businesses are voluntarily doing enough. It becomes a question of compliance.”

Carney Almroth, who has worked extensively on the science-policy interface for chemicals and plastics, said that a strong, enforceable treaty is essential to shift the status quo.

“The status quo is broken,” she said plainly. “We need to change the framework so regulations guide businesses to do the best thing possible—for the economy, for the environment, and for people.”

As one of the few experts who has consistently called for systemic reform in how plastics are managed, Carney Almroth said that relying on voluntary industry movements is simply not enough.

“We’ve seen global treaties deliver meaningful results before,” she said. “The Montreal Protocol worked. It changed how we handled chlorofluorocarbons, and it protected the ozone layer. People may not even realize how much their lives have improved because of those decisions—but they have.”

The Hidden Cost of Profit

Responding to a question about the profitability of the plastics industry—especially in countries where it contributes significantly to government revenues—Carney Almroth offered a sobering perspective.

“When we say plastics are profitable, that’s only because we’re not accounting for the real costs,” she said. “Those costs aren’t paid by the companies producing plastics. They’re paid by nature, and they’re paid by people.”

She cited staggering health implications, pointing out that plastics contain thousands of chemicals—many of which are toxic, carcinogenic, or endocrine-disrupting. “The human healthcare costs associated with exposure to these chemicals are astronomical—running into billions of dollars each year. But they’re not included in the price tag of plastic production.”

Building Standards that Protect People and the Planet

So what does it take to eliminate hazardous plastics from global markets?

According to Carney Almroth, we’re still missing a critical piece: effective, fit-for-purpose international standards.

“Right now, most of the existing standards—developed by organizations like ISO or OECD—are geared toward material quality or industrial use. They were never designed to protect human health or the environment,” she explained. “We need new standards. Ones that are developed by independent experts and shielded from vested interests.”

For such standards to be truly effective, she said, they must be holistic and interdisciplinary. “We need to move away from just focusing on economic sustainability. That’s what we’ve done in the past—and it’s failed us. Environmental and social sustainability must be given equal weight.”

As the panel wrapped up, Orona gazed over the Port Lympia waters.

“We have a choice right now,” he said. “To continue poisoning the womb of the Earth—or to become caretakers, protectors.”

And as the reporters descended the gangway of the Panda Boat, the symbolism was not lost: we’re all adrift in this ocean of plastic. Whether we sink or swim depends on what happens next.

IPS UN Bureau Report

 

Waves of Change: From the Glittering Shores of Nice to Struggling Seaweed Farmers in Zanzibar

Africa, Biodiversity, Civil Society, Climate Change, Climate Change Justice, Editors’ Choice, Environment, Europe, Featured, Headlines, Ocean Health, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations

Conservation

Yachts dock in Port Lympia, Nice, where the 3rd United Nations Ocean Conference is underway. Credit: Kizito Makoye/IPS

Yachts dock in Port Lympia, Nice, where the 3rd United Nations Ocean Conference is underway. Credit: Kizito Makoye/IPS

NICE, France, Jun 10 2025 (IPS) – The late afternoon sun sparkles on the waters of the French Riviera as yachts dock at the Port of Nice with mechanical grace. A tram glides past palm-lined boulevards, where joggers, drenched in sweat, huff past leisurely strollers and sunbathers. Just beside the promenade, a crowd gathers around a young girl. With braided hair bouncing in rhythm, she belts out Beyoncé’s Halo with stunning precision. Her bare feet dance on the cobblestones, her voice echoing against the pastel façades.


Tourists smile and drop coins into her hat. She grins, curtsies, and begins again. Her melody, effortless yet soulful, is a momentary respite from the conference halls just a few blocks away, where global leaders in gleaming designer suits dart to and from the United Nations Ocean Conference—a stone throw away.

Among those representing Africa is Tanzanian Vice-President Philip Mpango, who reaffirmed his government’s commitment to the sustainable conservation of oceans and marine resources, citing national efforts to combat pollution, overfishing, and the common affliction of climate.

“We must take action to protect our oceans and marine ecosystems. The challenges are enormous, but there is always hope for  when we build resilience  against the harsh impacts  of climate change that threaten our  coastal communities,” Mpango said in a statement aired back home on national television, TBC.

But as policymakers speak of high-level goals, thousands of kilometers away on the sun-scorched coast of Zanzibar, 43-year-old Amina Ali squats barefoot in the muddy shallows of the Indian Ocean. Her weathered hands move through the water with practiced familiarity, adjusting the polyethylene ropes that hold her seaweed crops.

“I used to earn enough to send my children to school and buy food,” she tells IPS by WhatsApp call, her voice tinged with quiet desperation. “Now, the weather is so unpredictable, and the sea is eating our farms. Some days, I come home empty-handed.”

Amina is among the thousands of women in the Zanzibar archipelago who depend on seaweed farming for survival. Once hailed as a booming green economy venture, seaweed production is now threatened by rising sea temperatures, shifting tides, and erosion—climate change-fueled adversities that have turned once-thriving beaches into battlegrounds.

Back in Nice, as the world gathers to chart a course for ocean health, Dr. Immaculate Semesi, Director General of Tanzania’s National Environmental Management Council (NEMC), underscores the stakes. “Our oceans  are our economic lifeline for thousands of our people; we must protect them at any cost,” she tells IPS on the sidelines of the conference.

Tanzania’s ocean territory spans more than 64,000 square kilometers, rich in biodiversity and crucial for food, transport, and employment. Yet, this “blue economy,” as experts call it, remains heavily underutilized and at risk due to Illegal, Unreported, and Unregulated (IUU) fishing, marine pollution, and poor regulation.

IUU fishing, often conducted by foreign-flagged vessels, has long plagued Tanzanian waters. Fishermen employ destructive techniques—blast fishing and banned nets—that decimate marine habitats and undermine lawful fishing operations.

“We’ve made huge progress—blast fishing has been reduced by 80 percent through community vigilance and stricter law enforcement,” says Dr. Flower Msuya, a marine biologist at the University of Dar es Salaam, in an interview with IPS in Nice. “But we still face serious challenges. Seaweed farmers are suffering. Corals are bleaching. Fisheries are dwindling. Climate change is accelerating it all.”

In recent years, Tanzania has stepped up efforts to curb environmental degradation. It has banned single-use plastic bags, ratified international marine protection conventions, and adopted policies like the National Blue Economy Policy (2024) and the National Action Plan (2024/2025–2025/2026). These frameworks aim to integrate environmental sustainability with economic development across sectors—fisheries, tourism, transport, and renewable energy.

Zanzibar, the semi-autonomous archipelago, has become a model in this regard. Under President Hussein Ali Mwinyi, the region has elevated the Blue Economy to a national development priority. Seaweed farming has rebounded, recording over 16,000 tons in 2023, nearly double that of 2020. Fish production reached 80,000 tons last year, thanks to government support including boats, loans, training, and a dedicated Ministry of Blue Economy and Fisheries.

Tourism has flourished as well. In 2023, Zanzibar welcomed more than 638,000 international tourists, surpassing pre-pandemic highs. The number of hotels and guesthouses rose to 709, including new eco-friendly lodges that promote marine conservation.

“The Zanzibar model shows us that sustainability and economic growth can go hand in hand,” says Dr. Msuya. “But we need more investment, more climate adaptation technologies, and policies that reach grassroots communities—especially women like Amina.”

Still, gaps remain. Many seaweed farmers struggle to access modern farming tools, credit, or markets. Amina’s coastal village, once lined with seaweed drying racks, is now dotted with abandoned plots.

“We are not asking for charity,” Amina says. “We just want support to adapt. The sea has always fed us and we will always depend on it.”

At the United Nations Ocean conference, Mpango acknowledged these vulnerabilities. He stressed the need for global cooperation and regional partnerships to enhance ocean governance and marine security. His call for action resonated with delegates from across the Global South, many of whom face similar crises.

Tanzania’s latest marine action plans aim to increase surveillance, foster community engagement, and harness scientific research. These include more patrols to combat IUU fishing, tighter enforcement of fishing licenses, and partnerships with universities to monitor marine ecosystems.

Yet, the pace of change is often slower than the rising tides.

As the sun dips into the Mediterranean in Nice, casting a golden glow on the port where that young girl sings Beyoncé with raw emotion, her voice seems to echo the silent struggles of women like Amina—unheard yet vital.

The ocean, vast and mysterious, connects them.

From the gilded shores of France to the salt-sprayed coasts of Tanzania, the fate of the sea is tied to every song sung, every rope tied, and every promise made.

And as leaders pack up their speeches and fly home, the real work begins—not in marble halls, but in muddy waters where the ocean meets life.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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UN Ocean Decade vs. Coastal Reality: ‘They Took Our Sea,’ Say Vizhinjam Fishworkers

Asia-Pacific, Biodiversity, Civil Society, Economy & Trade, Editors’ Choice, Environment, Featured, Headlines, Human Rights, Ocean Health, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations, Trade & Investment

Ocean Health

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

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.”

IPS UN Bureau Report

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Girls in Kenya Are Repurposing the Invasive Mathenge Tree Into Furniture

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Youth

Magdalene Ngimoe and Char Tito, learners at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School, making chairs from mathenge wood. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

Magdalene Ngimoe and Char Tito, learners at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School, making chairs from mathenge wood. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

KAKUMA, Kenya, Jun 6 2025 (IPS) – Char Tito is hammering nails into wood at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School in Turkana County, northern Kenya. The 16-year-old is making a traditional chair under the scorching sun outside one of the classroom blocks.


The wood she is using is from an unpopular source in this community. It is from a species of mesquite named Prosopis juliflora, which is native to Central and South America and is known in Kenya as mathenge.

Many locals hate mathenge in Turkana County due to its invasiveness and its thorns that are harsh to humans and can cause injuries to livestock. Locals say rivers and dams dry fast in areas with mathenge, and it dominates other plants.

Over the years, the residents have found it an easy source of firewood and charcoal, fuel for many in this community.

But youths, including girls, are now repurposing the mathenge tree to make furniture, particularly chairs.

Char Tito, a learner at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School in Kakuma, is seated on a chair made from mathenge wood. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

Char Tito, a learner at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School in Kakuma, is seated on a chair made from mathenge wood. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

“Plastic chairs are expensive. This is why I started making chairs from mathenge earlier this month,” says Tito, who fled the war in South Sudan to seek refuge in Kakuma Refugee Camp in 2017.

“I was taught here at school. Mathenge is abundant. We have been using it for firewood for years. I did not know that it could be used to make chairs.”

Income-Generating Scheme

The land in Kakuma is barren with sparse vegetation and the soils are so poor that they do not support agriculture. Turkana County receives little or no rain and can go for five years without experiencing a single drop of rain.

Acacia trees and mathenge, which are always green despite the high temperatures and water scarcity, make up most of the trees in this community.

Government statistics indicate that the mathenge trees spread at a rate of 15 percent yearly and have so far colonized a million acres of land in Kenya.

Some use mathenge to fence their homes and to make livestock shelters.

Locals survive on livestock production and trading charcoal and firewood.

Dennis Mutiso, a deputy director at Girl Child Network (GCN), a grassroots non-governmental organization supporting Tito and hundreds of other refugees, says the project is equipping learners with green skills.

Magdalene Ngimoe, a learner at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School, is making chairs from mathenge wood in Kakuma. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

Magdalene Ngimoe, a learner at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School, is making chairs from mathenge wood in Kakuma. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

“It is contributing to national climate plans. It aligns with the school curriculum,” he says.

Mutiso says those youths who have been trained in making chairs partner with those untrained to pass the knowledge to the community.

Tito, who lives with her mother and her three siblings, is so far making chairs for household use but is planning to make some for sale to her neighbors.

“This is a skill that I can use for my entire life. I am looking forward to earning a living out of carpentry,” she says, smiling.

Mathenge was introduced in the 1970s in the East African country to restore degraded dry lands. It is drought resistant, with its deep roots making it ideal for afforestation in areas like Turkana. The mathenge restored the area and blocked wind erosion in some areas, but at a cost to the locals.

Magdalene Ngimoe, a learner at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School, is making chairs from mathenge wood in Kakuma. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

Invasive mathenge tree in Kakuma, northern Kenya. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

Despite the massive cutting down of this tree for firewood and charcoal, the mathenge regenerates fast, unlike other trees like Acacia.

Lewis Obam, a conservator at the Forestry Commission under Turkana County, says there was a negative perception of the mathenge in the community.

“Communities lost their goats after consuming the tree. Its thorns were affecting the community,” he says.

Obam says mathenge is a colonizer and spreads so fast.

“It was meant to counter desertification. The intention was good,” he says.

Obam says its hardwood is ideal for making chairs.

“It has more opportunities than we knew. It has the second hardest wood in this area. We need maximum use of the mathenge.”

Protecting Environment 

To restore other trees in this semi-arid land, Tito and other girls are planting trees at school and in their homes. She has planted five trees at home and many at school, but water is a challenge amid temperatures that can go as high as 47 degrees Celsius.

Magdalene Ngimoe, a learner at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School in Kakuma, planting a tree. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

Magdalene Ngimoe, a learner at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School in Kakuma, planting a tree. Credit: Farai Shawn Matiashe/IPS

“I am proud that I am contributing to measures that reduce the effects of climate change,” she says.

Sometimes, the girls bring water from home to school to ensure that the trees survive.

Trees help mitigate climate change by absorbing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.

Kenya is targeting to plant at least 15 billion trees by 2032 through its National Tree Growing Restoration campaign launched in December 2022.

Magdalene Ngimoe, another learner at Kakuma Arid Zone Secondary School, says she has so far planted two trees at her home in Kiwandege village in Kakuma.

“I hate mathenge. It makes our lives difficult. But I am happy that I am using it to make chairs. I am also planting trees at school, which will provide shade to other students,” says the 16-year-old Kenyan Ngimoe, the firstborn in a family of seven.

Her family survives on selling meat and she hopes she will earn some money from her newly acquired craft.

Edwin Chabari, a manager at Kakuma Refugee Camp under the Department of Refugee Services, says Mathenge has been a menace not only within the camp but also in the area.

“The local youths can get cash from a tree that we thought was a menace,” he says.

GCN, with funding from Education Above All, a global education foundation based in Qatar, has so far planted 896,000 trees in Kakuma and Dadaab and is targeting 2.4 million trees by next year.

Ngimoe’s favorite subject is science and she wants to be a lawyer representing vulnerable children.

Established in 1992, Kakuma Refugee Camp is home to 304,000 people from more than 10 countries, like South Sudan, Burundi, Somalia, and the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC).

Joseph Ochura, sub-county director in Turkana County under the Teachers Service Commission (TSC), says the tree-planting initiative has enhanced the learning environment.

“When you visit most of the schools that have been supported, you will see big shades of trees. Whenever there is a break time, learners sit there, including the teachers. Sometimes, some lessons are even carried out under that shade,” Ochura says.

He says that of the 15 billion trees set by the government, TSC was allocated 200 million trees.

Some schools also have their tree nurseries.

When ready, they plant the seedlings at the school and supply others to the community.

“Some of the girls are at the forefront in tree planting. That is a plus. That is what we are telling the girls—outside school, you can still do this in the community,” Ochura says.

Tito, whose favorite subject is English and who wants to be a doctor, is happy to be part of the green jobs being created in Kakuma.

“As a girl, I am proud of myself. I am contributing to environmental protection,” she says.
IPS UN Bureau Report

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