Make use of all urban waste, a utopia in Brazil?

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Sustainability

A recycling, biodigestion and composting complex is being installed next to the landfill of the Intermunicipal Consortium of the Middle Valley of the Itajaí River (Cimvi), to take advantage of all the solid waste from 19 municipalities in the southern Brazilian state of Santa Catarina. Credit: Mario Osava / IPS

TIMBO / FLORIANOPOLIS, Brazil , Jun 13 2025 (IPS) – In 2014, Santa Catarina became the first and only state free of open-air garbage dumps in Brazil. Now, 14 of its municipalities are seeking to also free themselves from landfills and make use of nearly all urban solid waste.


The Intermunicipal Consortium of the Middle Itajaí Valley (Cimvi) expects to process in recycling, biodigestion and composting more than 90% of the garbage, surpassing the 65% benchmark reached by the Nordic countries of Europe, emphasized its executive director, Fernando Tomaselli.

“We have 36 landfills in the state, only three public, the rest are private and there is little interest in changing the system, because whoever dominates the landfill also dominates the garbage collection service”: Fernando Tomaselli.

“It is a utopia,” said the executive president of the Brazilian Association of Energy from Waste (Abren), Yuri Schmitke.

“The unrealistic goal compromises the project,” he warned. Several European countries, Japan and South Korea have already eliminated sanitary landfills – the areas for the final disposal of solid waste – but resort to incineration to generate energy with non-recyclable garbage, he added.

Cimvi rules out that alternative. Its goal is to expand recycling and the circular economy of waste to an unprecedented proportion. “Our obsession is to take advantage of everything, to prove that garbage does not exist,” said Tomaselli.

But recycling has limits. Europe, after many attempts and advances, covers 25 % of waste on average and 32 % in the exceptional case of Germany. In addition, 19% of the waste still goes to landfills, according to data from Abren, which had its sixth annual congress in Florianopolis, capital of Santa Catarina, on June 5 and 6.

Cimvi was created in 1998, with only five participating municipalities, to jointly manage several issues, but not yet garbage. It reached its current composition of 14 municipalities in 2017 after taking over the management of the sanitary landfill in 2016, previously in charge of the water and sewage authorities.

Its headquarters was installed in Timbo, a town of 46 099 people, according to the 2022 national census. The 14 municipalities had 283 594 residents that year, the most populous being Indaial, with 71 549.

Fernando Tomaselli, director of Cimvi, an intermunicipal initiative that promotes circular waste management in the southern Brazilian state of Santa Catarina. Credit: Mario Osava / IPS

Fernando Tomaselli, director of Cimvi, an intermunicipal initiative that promotes circular waste management in the southern Brazilian state of Santa Catarina. Credit: Mario Osava / IPS

Landfill and recycling

The landfill receives garbage from five other “partner” cities, in addition to the 14 in the consortium, with a total of between 5,000 and 7,000 tons per month. Environmental education campaigns in schools, businesses and the streets have gradually expanded selective waste collection.

Yellow sacks were popularized and disseminated where the population put recyclable waste which, collected by the municipalities, are taken to the Waste Assessment Center (CVR I) at the Cimvi headquarters, on the outskirts of Timbo.

“Today we recover 20 to 22% of recyclable waste, against a Brazilian average of 2%. We want to reach 27%,” Tomaselli told IPS.

“We receive an average of 60 tons a day, 24 hours a day, in three shifts, Monday to Monday,” said Rosane Valério, president of the Medio Vale Cooperative, hired to separate and send the waste to purchasing companies, at CVR I, where 87 recyclers are employed.

The cooperative has another unit to process waste from two other nearby cities, Ituporanga and Aurora, with a total of 33 300 people.

“Of the material received, we still discard 30% that comes mixed or dirty with food remains, sometimes blood that attracts mosquitoes, glass and other dangerous objects such as syringes and medicines, which generate major difficulties for recycling,” explained Valério.

A bench at the entrance of Cimvi's headquarters, made of thermoplastic produced from waste that was previously considered non-recyclable and destined for landfills. Credit: Mario Osava / IPS

A bench at the entrance of Cimvi’s headquarters, made of thermoplastic produced from waste that was previously considered non-recyclable and destined for landfills. Credit: Mario Osava / IPS

Thermoplastic

She regretted that “we do not know the origin, there is a lack of awareness of the population in the correct disposal”. In any case, half of that 30% of discarded waste can be used for the production of thermoplastic, a hard material like concrete, which is used to make benches for squares, sidewalks, pavements and walls.

The cooperative already operates a pilot plant, with experimental production that has not yet been sold externally. “The municipalities are the initial market for the thermoplastic plates, as well as for the compost from the composting,” says Tomaselli.

Abren’s president, Schmitke, is skeptical. The consortium municipalities have a limited, insufficient demand, and the population does not trust products made from garbage, he argued.

Jaqueline Wagenknetht and Maria Eduarda Pegoretti, Cimvi's environmental education and communication advisors, promote environmental education in the so-called European Valley to improve selective garbage collection and promote tourism and sustainable living. Credit: Mario Osava / IPS

Jaqueline Wagenknetht and Maria Eduarda Pegoretti, Cimvi’s environmental education and communication advisors, promote environmental education in the so-called European Valley to improve selective garbage collection and promote tourism and sustainable living. Credit: Mario Osava / IPS

But thermoplastic has been around for four decades and now there is equipment that facilitates its production at a high temperature, 160 degrees Celsius, and as an input, half of the plastic that is added to other waste, such as textiles, is enough, countered the director of Cimvi.

The use of local waste will take a leap forward with the inauguration of CVR II, which is expected in early 2026 and will use a large part of the organic waste for the production of biogas and biofertilizers. Another part will go to composting.

“The goal is to take advantage of 100% or 98%,” for which alternatives must be sought for waste, the “common garbage” for which there are still no ways to recycle, he said.

Cimvi headquarters, in the Sunflower Park, which combines ecotourism, sanitary landfill and urban waste utilization plants for biogas generation, recycling and composting. Credit: Mario Osava / IPS

Cimvi headquarters, in the Sunflower Park, which combines ecotourism, sanitary landfill and urban waste utilization plants for biogas generation, recycling and composting. Credit: Mario Osava / IPS

Bottlenecks

One stumbling block is selective collection, which needs to be perfected. “In Milan, Italy, five types of garbage are separated at the source, be it food, plastics, paper, metals or glass. Here, it’s harder because everything is mixed together,” said Tomaselli.

That is why Cimvi gives priority to environmental education, through several campaigns such as “Vale reciclar”, and sustainable tourism, which highlights the beauties of the so-called European Valley, which includes other municipalities in addition to the 14 consortium members.

The Girasol Park was also created for this purpose, a tourist complex that includes the landfill, the Cimvi facilities and the surrounding forest, with trails for walks, said Jaqueline Wagenknetht, environmental education advisor.

Design and poetry contests among local students seek to promote the valley, which is called European because its population includes many immigrants, especially Germans, Italians and Poles.

The name Sunflower was chosen for the park because, in addition to its beauty, the flower symbolizes sustainability, as a source of oil and biofuel, the advisor explained.

Design of the future Sunflower Park, in which the green buildings, in the center, are intended for recycling and energy biodigestion. In the background on the left is the landfill already covered, able to receive solar energy panels. Credit: Courtesy of Cimvi

Design of the future Sunflower Park, in which the green buildings, in the center, are intended for recycling and energy biodigestion. In the background on the left is the landfill already covered, able to receive solar energy panels. Credit: Courtesy of Cimvi

Cimvi benefits from the experiences of São Bento do Sul, a municipality of 83 277 people, 120 kilometers north of Timbo, which has a similar program that seeks to use up to 100% of the waste.

A process of dehydration of the organic part allows a better use of the waste, explained Jacó Phoren, consultant of the company 100lixo, which is involved in the project, during his speech at the Abren congress on June 6.

Fostering new companies that generate solutions for the waste industry is another focus of Cimvi, said Tomaselli.

In Curitibanos, a city 185 kilometers southwest of Timbo, with 40 045 people, the company Inventus Ambiental claims to have invented equipment that will facilitate the separation of garbage for better energy recovery or recycling, reducing the waste that makes landfills bigger.

Its pilot project will be inaugurated in a few months and is based on the use of 90-degree heat to treat organic material, informed Dirnei Ferri, director of the company.

Santa Catarina has already eliminated open dumps, although it is ignored if all of them have been cleaned up. Now it is a matter of “breaking the landfill trench”, said Tomaselli.

“We have 36 landfills in the state, only three public, the rest are private and there is little interest in changing the system, because whoever dominates the landfill also dominates the garbage collection service,” he concluded.

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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

 

Girls in Kenya Are Repurposing the Invasive Mathenge Tree Into Furniture

Active Citizens, Africa, Biodiversity, Civil Society, Conservation, Development & Aid, Editors’ Choice, Environment, Featured, Gender, Headlines, Migration & Refugees, Natural Resources, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations, Water & Sanitation, Youth

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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Noor Mukadam Got Justice, But Why Does Pakistan’s Legal System Fail Its Women?

Active Citizens, Asia-Pacific, Civil Society, Crime & Justice, Editors’ Choice, Featured, Gender, Gender Violence, Headlines, Human Rights, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations | Analysis

Gender Violence

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

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.

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.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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‘We Are Witnessing Ecocide in West Papua, One of the World’s Richest Biodiversity Centres’

Active Citizens, Asia-Pacific, Biodiversity, Civil Society, Crime & Justice, Economy & Trade, Environment, Featured, Food and Agriculture, Headlines, Human Rights, Indigenous Rights, TerraViva United Nations

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.

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Indonesia: ‘The transmigration plan threatens Papua’s autonomy and indigenous ways of life’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Budi Hernawan 03.Feb.2025
Indonesia: ‘The international community should help amplify the voices of Indonesians standing up to corrupt elites’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Alvin Nicola 28.Sep.2024
Indonesia’s election spells trouble for civil society CIVICUS Lens 13.Mar.2024

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How Mangroves Save Lives, Livelihoods of Bangladesh Coastal Communities

Active Citizens, Asia-Pacific, Civil Society, Climate Action, Climate Change, Climate Change Justice, Cooperatives, Development & Aid, Economy & Trade, Editors’ Choice, Environment, Featured, Food and Agriculture, Food Security and Nutrition, Gender, Headlines, Human Rights, Natural Resources, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations, Women & Economy

Climate Change Justice

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

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.

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

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 showing the mangrove in front of her house in Chunkuri 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. PCredit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS

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

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

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 being processed into seedlings in the nursery. Here at Namita Mondal's nursery in Dhangmari village of Dakop upazila (sub-district) of Khulna district. 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.

Various organizations, including the Bangladesh Resource Council of Indigenous Knowledge (BARCIK), Bangladesh Environment and Development Society (BEDS), and Friendship, are working to restore mangroves in different parts of Khulna, Satkhira, and Bagerhat districts.

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 are planting mangrove seedlings in Dakop upazila (sub-district) of Khulna district. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS

Women plant mangrove seedlings in Dakop upazila (sub-district) of Khulna district. Credit: Rafiqul Islam Montu/IPS

Namita Mandal busy maintaining a mangrove nursery in Dhangmari village 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.

IPS UN Bureau Report

IPS UN Bureau, IPS UN Bureau Report, Bangladesh, Climate Change Justice, Climate Justice

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