Category: environment

  • Is climate change carcinogenic?

    Is climate change carcinogenic?

    A study in California this year found that cancer patients were much more likely to die from the disease if they breathed in air pollution from wildfires a year after their diagnosis. 

    In 2020, flooding in Spain caused by Storm Gloria forced 118 cancer patients to cancel their radiotherapy treatment. And in 2019, researchers from the University of Michigan found a higher death rate among adult cancer patients who were affected by Hurricane Katrina. 

    It turns out that in many ways, climate change affects our health. We can see this directly when looking at cancer — something that affects one in five people around the world directly, and just about everyone else connected to those people indirectly.

    I know this first hand. Four years ago a close family member was diagnosed with cancer. It made me wonder: What could we have done to prevent it? Was it something they ate? Their amount of exercise? 

    At the time, we were living in South Korea, a country notorious for its heavy air pollution days, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that might have had an impact on the diagnosis. 

    Then, as I watched them go through multiple recurrences of cancer, the question gradually evolved into this: How can you ensure successful cancer treatment? And subsequently, how can you ensure that everyone has access to safe cancer treatment?

    Supply chain disruptions

    It turns out that air pollution isn’t the only problem. Extreme weather events caused by climate change can disrupt supply chains which results in shortages of critical medical supplies.

    In 2017, an intravenous fluid manufacturing company in Puerto Rico, for example, was destroyed by Hurricane Maria. The company was a major supplier of IV fluids for hospitals in the United States and the destruction led to a shortage in essential IV fluids. 

    In an attempt to investigate further, I contacted Dr. Kishan Gupta, a specialist in comprehensive ophthalmology, cornea and external diseases, at the Kaiser Downey Medical Center in California. Over a WhatsApp chat, he told me that Hurricane Maria not only led to major disruptions in eye drop manufacturing but also in IV saline for surgery and intraoperative anesthetics at his hospital. 

    Dr. David Kim, an orthopedic surgeon at the Worcester Medical Center in the U.S. state of Massachusetts, then told me that when IV supplies are disrupted, all surgeries that require such fluids are delayed — anything from hand and hip replacement surgeries to the removal of cancer tumors.

    IV saline and intraoperative anesthetics are crucial for cancer patients, especially IV saline, which helps to dilute toxic fluids and dehydration as a result of chemotherapy.

    Medical needs not met

    Crucially, climate change-induced extreme weather events damage infrastructure, preventing important medical equipment and supplies from reaching destined locations at an appropriate time.

    On the note of promptness, one of cancer’s most threatening characteristics is its fast, uncontrolled growth. In the field of medicine, this means that cancer treatment must be administered at the correct time, with the correct steps. 

    After Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico, a 70% cancel rate was observed for brachytherapy, a form of radiation therapy. In Mexico after the 2017 earthquake, cancer surgeries were canceled with a median delay of 22.5 days. 

    During natural disasters, transportation networks and electrical systems break down. This means that people are unable to get to their hospital for treatment, and additionally, treatments like radiation which depend on electricity, can’t be administered.

    The COVID-19 pandemic, while not a climate change-induced event, showed what happens when supply chains break down. Needed supplies of everything from towels to anti-septic solutions became unavailable and as a result, people died.

    Lack of blood donors

    Of course, cancer isn’t the only health concern related to climate change. Rising temperatures and more frequent natural disasters can create favorable conditions for insects such as ticks and mosquitoes that transmit harmful pathogens. 

    Hurricanes, tornados and other extreme weather events also discourage people from traveling and that can cause a consequent lack in blood donations at hospitals, according to Dr. Sung Eun Yang at the Kaiser Panorama City Medical Center in California. “Blood and blood products are a limited precious resource,” Dr Yang said. “Donor turn out may be dependent on the weather. I recall in Boston we had a terrible winter storm with no donor turn out and experienced significant shortages in blood products.”

    In the United States, roughly 25% of blood donations in the United States go to cancer treatments. 

    Furthermore, it turns out that severe heat and humidity can affect medications — how they operate or their very properties. A number of common cancer medications are highly heat-sensitive. This means that as the Earth’ s climate warms, cancer patients who live in hot places will have a more difficult time storing and accessing safe medication, particularly in economically poor areas that can’t invest in energy-consuming storage. But even those in wealthier, cooler countries will be affected if they import products from those regions. 

    Finally, because of climate change, we are also seeing an increase in wildfires due to extreme and sustained drought conditions and wildfires too, ultimately leading to increases in cancer. 

    For instance, cancer is the number one cause of death in the fire fighting industry, accounting for 70% of all deaths.  

    Where there’s smoke, there’s cancer?

    Harvard University researcher Mary Johnson told the publication E&E News this year that potentially harmful chemicals are released every time a structure burns.

    “Plumbing has copper and lead in it,” she stated. “Paint has toxic chemicals. Electronics, plastics have really nasty stuff in them. All these chemicals we don’t think of occurring in a wildland fire are now part of the smoke.”

    So what can we do? 

    In preparation for all potential disasters, hospitals could have a disaster plan to help ensure that patients receive any and all important data during a future disaster. For example, the United States Department of Health and Human services has released a study on the efficacy of electronic health records during disasters. If a storm is forecasted in a region, an electronic emergency chart could be made for each patient. This plan could also come in the form of new infrastructure or mechanisms meant to keep the hospital safe from floods or fires. 

    Patients should also be provided with alternate ways to access healthcare information in order to connect with local healthcare teams, and the American Association of Colleges of Nursing recently added climate change education to the list of required skills for nursing education programs. 

    Finally, past cancer survivors of disasters have suggested that countries like Puerto Rico can be more prepared and adaptable in terms of exploring alternatives like renewable energy, that aren’t as susceptible to power outages from storms. 

    As the climate deteriorates, our responsibility in pushing back against the climate crisis will expand in multiple ways. 

    Our health and the health of the people we love will depend on the health of our planet. That means that it is our responsibility to protect ourselves, our loved ones and all of those currently battling cancer from climate change.

     

    Questions to consider:

    1. What connection is there between climate change and cancer rates?

    2. What can be done to keep people from dying of climate-change related cancer?

    3. What, if anything, can you do to help cool down our planet?

     

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  • Finally, a focus on freshwater fish

    Finally, a focus on freshwater fish

    Africa is home to more than 3,200 recorded freshwater fish species — a number that grows annually as new species are described, including 28 in 2024 alone. Yet many of these species live in isolation, bound to single lakes or rivers. The continent’s geography, fractured by plateaus, mountains and deserts, has produced distinct and stunning radiations of life. 

    Consider the cichlids of Africa’s Great Lakes: Lake Malawi alone harbours over 800 species, most found nowhere else. Some parent their young by brooding them in their mouths; others, like Nimbochromis livingstonii, feign death to lure prey. In the Congo’s lightless rapids, Lamprologus lethops has evolved with skin-covered eyes. 

    Lungfish, relics of the Devonian era, survive years of drought by burrowing into mud and breathing air through primitive lungs. The ornate bichir, another ancient lineage, gulps air through a lung-like swim bladder and can endure short stints out of water if kept moist. 

    Cichlids and cuckoo catfish

    In Lake Tanganyika, the cuckoo catfish surreptitiously deposits its eggs among those of mouthbrooding cichlids, leaving its young to be raised — at the expense of their foster siblings — by another species.

    These are not curiosities, but rather sentinels. Freshwater fish are the regulators of aquatic ecosystems — grazers, predators, cleaners and recyclers of aquatic systems.  

    They “are an aquatic version of the canary in the coal mine for Africa’s rivers, lakes and wetlands,” the report warns. “If the continent’s freshwater ecosystems deteriorate to the point where they can’t support thriving fish populations, they won’t be healthy enough to continue to underpin Africa’s societies and economies”.

    The cost is already being felt. On the Kafue Flats in Zambia, once a thriving fishing ground that supplied 15-22% of the nation’s catch, dam construction has altered seasonal flood pulses. Permanent inundation has decoupled the river from its floodplain. Five key fish species have become commercially extinct. 

    In Salonga National Park in the Democratic Republic of Congo, local fishers have resorted to toxic fishing methods, poisoning the very waters they depend on. Along the Rufiji River in Tanzania, traditional species like the Rufiji tilapia are declining under pressure from monofilament nets and habitat loss.

    Despite the devastation, the report also offers hope. Community-led conservation is showing results. In Tanzania’s Lake Tanganyika region, 21 Beach Management Units — local organizations of fishers, elders, and women — are enforcing seasonal fishing bans and banning destructive gear. In Zambia’s Liuwa Plain and conservancies in Namibia, fishers are co-managing resources with support from WWF and The Nature Conservancy. 

    Conserving freshwater ecosystems

    In Angola, community leaders are building bottom-up monitoring systems to track and protect fish stocks. In Madagascar, captive breeding programs are trying to save rainbowfish and cichlids teetering on the edge of extinction.

    Still, freshwater ecosystems remain the “forgotten sibling” of terrestrial and marine conservation. Their decline has unfolded quietly, out of sight of many global decision-makers. “It’s time we stopped treating freshwater fishes as an afterthought,” said Nancy Rapando, WWF’s Africa Food Futures Lead. “They are central to Africa’s biodiversity, development and future. We must act now before the rivers dry out.”

    The report outlines a science-based Emergency Recovery Plan — a six-pillar framework that includes restoring natural river flows, improving water quality, protecting habitats, ending unsustainable use, controlling invasive species and removing obsolete dams to let rivers run free. 

    “These six pillars have all been successfully implemented successfully around the world,” said Eric Oyare, WWF Africa’s freshwater lead. “With bold leadership, African countries can adapt them to local contexts.”

    The Freshwater Challenge, a growing coalition aiming to restore 300,000 kilometres of degraded rivers and 350 million hectares of wetlands now includes 20 African countries. 

    But headlined declarations are not enough. What’s required is a shift in how governments, funders and societies value the submerged world. For decades, development decisions — from damming rivers to draining wetlands — have ignored the true cost of fish loss. Policies rarely account for the food, labour and cultural systems tied to inland fisheries. 

    “Africa’s freshwater fishes are not forgotten by the people who depend on them, whose lives and livelihoods are interwoven with the continent’s rivers, lakes and wetlands and the fish beneath their surface,” the report said. “But they have invariably been out of sight and out of mind for policymakers, especially when it comes to big decisions that impact freshwater ecosystems.”

    Questions to consider:

    1. What is the goal of the COP15 meeting in Brazil this year? 

    2. Why do freshwater lakes deserve the same protections as oceans?

    3. What freshwater lake is nearest to you and what lives in it?

     

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  • With no warning

    With no warning

    The term ‘observations’ comes from the days trained weather observers recorded standard meteorological information. Now observations from radiosondes — attached to weather balloons rising to the upper stratosphere — collect data on temperature, humidity, air pressure and wind. 

    Automated surface-observing systems on land provide real-time data and satellites gather imagery and more data which is fed into supercomputers to provide forecasts.

    So what are the benefits of accurate weather forecasts?

    Staying prepared for the worst

    Evan Thompson, the director of the Meteorological Service in Jamaica, has seen his island hit by extreme weather events as seasonal hurricanes have become more severe.

    Thompson said that people need to know how to protect themselves from extreme weather such as tropical storms and hurricanes.

    “Whether it means moving to higher ground in the moment or at least ensuring you don’t take chances crossing flooded roadways that are with waters moving fast, or rivers,” he said.

    Thompson wants his country to be prepared for severe weather. “More data always means better observations which in turn leads to better forecasts.”

    Over the last decades, the accuracy of weather forecasting in the United States has vastly increased what is known as storm resiliency, helped airlines reroute flights, farmers to plant crops at the optimal times and power companies to deal with demand from their customers.

    Climate change intensifies weather.

    Elsewhere, the World Meteorological Organisation (WMO) and the World Environmental Programme (WEP) have targeted the need for more observation stations in countries across the Middle East, Africa, South America and Pacific Island states, countries which are at risk of seeing economic progress wiped out by increasing impacts of climate change. 

    The WMO target is for weather observation to reach the levels of countries in Europe and the United States. But it may not be citing the United States as a model in the future. Since January, the United States has been reducing its capacity to provide weather data.

    The cuts come at a time when the intensity and frequency of extreme weather events have increased due to climate change linked to human induced warming according to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report of August 2021. However, the Trump administration has taken a decision to eliminate the term “climate change” from federal websites. 

    Especially dependent on accurate forecasts are the construction industry, agriculture, power companies and aviation. 

    Fabio Venuti of the European Centre for Medium-Range Weather Forecasts inputs weather data into a supercomputer. “Global weather forecasting like ours can assimilate data then produce high resolution local forecasts for each country,” he said. “They can be more prepared.”

    Information farmers can rely on

    Fabio said that the ability to forecast rain and drought can help farmers and governments plan food crops. And it can help public health officials prepare for and lessen the spread of diseases, such as malaria, that are affected by environmental factors as insects transported by winds. 

    Thompson in Jamaica said that the policies and plans that governments take are affected by weather forecasting. “For example, building codes can be adjusted because we recognise more severe downpours in areas that don’t normally have flooding,” he said. 

    In the United States, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), the parent agency of the National Weather Service, is tasked with daily weather forecasts, severe storm warnings and climate monitoring. In 2025 NOAA has already lost 800 employees and a further 500 have been offered buyouts.

    According to the former heads of the National Weather Service, the proposed cuts of close to 30% for NOAA would essentially eliminate NOAA’s research function for weather.

    Inger Anderson, executive director of the UN Environment Programme, said that accurate weather forecasting pays off in many ways — lives saved, improved disaster management, protecting livelihoods, biodiversity, food security, water supply and economic growth. 

    Besides cutting staffing, the Trump administration has also cut back on funds used to record tidal predictions and weather disasters such as heat waves, hurricanes, tornados, floods and wildfires. The U.S. National Centers for Environmental Information, the agency that collates historical meteorological records, will cease to update its Billion-Dollar Weather and Climate Disasters database beyond 2024. Previous records will be archived. 

    Jeff Masters, a meteorologist for Yale Climate Connections says the database is the “gold standard” used to evaluate the costs of extreme weather. “It’s a major loss, since it comes at a time when we need to better understand how much climate change is increasing disaster losses,” he said.

    Weather forecasting can tell us more than whether to carry an umbrella, when to plan a picnic or plant flowers in the gardens. Accurate forecasting can save your life, your home and your livelihood. 

     

    Questions to consider:

    1. How do you use weather forecasts?

    2. Should politicians work more closely with scientists?

    3. Have you experienced a severe weather event?

     

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  • How to get started making a podcast

    How to get started making a podcast

    She suggests teaming up with a buddy. “Looking back on all the stuff I’ve produced, I’ve never produced it alone or in a silo,” she said. “You really need to connect with other people. And I think that’s a great way to do it.”

    4. Find your mango. Colter said that piece of advice came from climate journalist Katherine Dunn, who runs the Oxford Climate Journalism Network. It means connecting climate to the things that people care about. “Yummy, delicious mangoes are struggling to thrive on a heating planet right now,” Colter said. “So that’s something that actually is under threat. It’s something that people love. The thing I like about it is that mangoes are really visual. Everybody knows them.”

    5. Make small splashes as opposed to big waves. You don’t need to think about a massive climate headline, Colter said. It can and should be stories that you’re personally interested in that have a climate element to them. Climate is everywhere, Colter said. “It’s just about finding your route into it,” she said. “Find small ways to connect the dots to climate change.”

    6. Keep it simple: Listeners want to feel like they are part of a conversation. So talk like you’d normally talk. “It doesn’t need to sound like a science textbook,” Colter said. “Like we’re not all climate scientists and I don’t think we should feel that we have to communicate in such a way.”

    7. Keep it human: We tend to focus climate stories around some aspect of the planet: air, water, wildlife, plants. But it is a mistake to ignore people. “That’s who is mainly suffering and who will suffer,” Colter said. “Nature will go on, humans won’t.” She said center a story around  humans and speak directly to the people that your story affects by reaching out to them and interviewing them. 

    “It’s amazing now you you can pretty much contact anyone all over the world,” she said. “And what I would say is  just go for it because you’d be surprised at who replies.”

    8: Give people ways that take action. Colter said that you don’t want to lecture people or demand that they change the way they live. But you can make suggestions and give them blueprints of how others have taken action. “It’s very much about taking stock of what’s going on in your life and your community and taking action within that,” she said. 

    9. Find technology you are comfortable with. There are seemingly endless apps and software programs and hardware you can buy and download and install and use. But you don’t need expensive equipment or complicated programs. There are simple, inexpensive microphones you can buy or use the one that comes on your laptop or phone. You can use free software that called a digital audio workspace. On an Apple device there is an app for recording called Voice Memos, for example. “So you literally just open that, hit go and you’re good to go,” she said. 

    You will need an editing program. Again there are fancy programs you can get such as Adobe Audition but there are simpler programs as well. Colter pointed to Descript, which allows you to edit the audio by editing the words. “So you can literally highlight a whole sentence and click delete if you don’t want that sentence,” she said. “I think Descript is a really good entry tool if you just want to have a play around.”

    10. Publish. Like with recording and editing technology, there are a lot of publishing platforms like Buzzsprout, Acast and Simplecast and all will enable people to find your podcast on Apple, Spotify and other commonly used streaming services. Some are free and some cost money. You might want to explore and compare. 

     

    Questions to consider:

    1. Why is there more to podcasting than just talking into a mic?

    2. What are some ways you can connect to an audience?

    3. If you were to create a new podcast, what would it be about?

     

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  • From the ground in Kenya to the gold stud in the ear

    From the ground in Kenya to the gold stud in the ear

    Artisanal gold mining in Kenya’s Western region is raising environmental and public health concerns as mercury contamination threatens both the miners and local water sources.

    At sunrise in western Kenya’s Migori County, small groups of men and women gather at makeshift gold pits, sifting through soil in search of a precious livelihood. Across Kenya’s western counties, tens of thousands of people have turned to artisanal gold mining — small-scale, informal mining operations, often characterized by manual labor and the use of basic tools and low-tech equipment — as global gold prices rise and traditional farming incomes decline. 

    But while mining offers a vital economic lifeline, it brings a toxic legacy: mercury contamination that threatens health, water and livelihoods far beyond the mines.

    A growing Industry in Western Kenya, small-scale gold mining has expanded rapidly in counties such as Migori, Kakamega and Vihiga. Recent estimates suggest that Kenya is home to more than 250,000 artisanal miners, with more than one million people depending on gold-mining for their livelihoods. In Migori alone, gold mining injects an estimated US$37 million into the local economy each year.

    Despite the dangers, mining remains the most viable source of income for many. Surveys in Migori found that a significant majority of miners would not leave the industry, citing a lack of alternatives. 

    Extracting gold

    Women make up an estimated 38% of Kenya’s small-scale gold mining workforce, often involved in ore processing — where mercury exposure is highest — yet receive just 11% of the sector’s revenue. 

    Nashon Adero, a lecturer at Taita Taveta University and a Kenyan mining policy expert, said that women’s roles and vulnerabilities are often overlooked in policy discussions. 

    Herman Gibb, a lecturer at George Washington University and managing partner and president of Gibb & O’Leary Epidemiology Consulting said that mercury is widely used by artisanal miners because it is cheap, accessible and effective at extracting gold from ore. 

    “It’s the easiest way for miners with limited resources to extract gold,” said Gibb, who used to work for the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. 

    The process, known as amalgamation, involves mixing crushed ore with liquid mercury. Mercury binds to gold, creating an amalgam, which is then heated to vaporize and remove the mercury, leaving behind pure gold. But Gibb said that this heating releases toxic mercury vapour, endangering miners and nearby communities. 

    Mercury poisons

    Researchers, including Gibb, have warned that mercury vapour can settle in households, exposing families, particularly children and pregnant women. Biomonitoring studies, including hair sampling, have shown high levels of exposure among women in small-scale gold mining regions. 

    However, research shows that testing capacity in rural Kenya is limited, and the logistics of sampling, storage and analysis pose additional barriers to effective surveillance. Mercury poses a variety of risks, depending on the form of exposure and who is exposed. 

    Elemental mercury, the liquid form used in gold extraction, poses serious risks when inhaled as vapour, which can cause neurological symptoms such as tremors, memory loss and cognitive impairment. Prolonged exposure can also cause kidney damage. 

    “Mercury vapour can damage the brain, especially in children whose nervous systems are still developing,” Gibb said.  

    Methylmercury, on the other hand, is an organic form of mercury created when elemental mercury enters water bodies and undergoes microbial transformation. It accumulates in fish and other aquatic organisms, entering the food chain. Methylmercury is particularly harmful to pregnant women and children, as exposure can lead to severe developmental disorders, intellectual disabilities and long-term neurological damage.

    Chemicals in the food stream

    Gibb said that when methylmercury enters the food chain, the risks become even more serious. “This is a toxin that affects the most vulnerable in invisible but lasting ways,” he said.

    Although Kenya’s Mining Act of 2016 bans mercury use in mining, enforcement remains weak, and mercury is still widely available in local markets. News reports from the Kenya Chamber of Mines, the main mining industry organization in Kenya, state that many miners lack awareness of its dangers or access to protective equipment. 

    A 2023 study found that groundwater within six kilometers of mine sites in Migori contained mercury levels exceeding Kenya’s safe drinking water limit of 0.001 mg/L during the dry season. Soil samples from mine tailings (waste materials left over after valuable minerals have been extracted) showed mercury concentrations above 9.6 mg/kg, surpassing the National Environment Management Authority discharge limits. 

    Kenya’s mercury crisis is part of a wider global problem. Gibb said that the World Health Organization estimates prenatal exposure to methylmercury causes more than 227,000 new cases of intellectual disability each year, contributing to nearly two million “disability-adjusted life years” — a measure of years lost to ill-health or disability. 

    Mercury ranks among the top chemical threats to global health. Gibb said that its burden is compounded by the fact that most harm is invisible and long-term, making it difficult to prioritize in health budgets. 

    Science diplomacy

    In 2017, Kenya ratified the Minamata Convention, an international treaty designed to protect human health and the environment from releases of mercury, committing to reduce mercury use and emissions. Yet implementation lags. A 2022 Auditor General’s report found that the Ministry of Petroleum and Mining had not mapped or formally designated artisanal mining zones in key counties.

    Adero, the Kenyan mining expert emphasized the need for “science diplomacy” — the use of geospatial technologies (mapping tools and location data) and data-driven reports to influence local and national policymakers. Recent GIS-based research (Geographic Information System, or mapping software that shows roads, rivers, houses etc.) show mercury levels remain high in soil and water near mines. 

    “This highlights enforcement gaps and spatial risks [risks due to location] that many policymakers overlook,” he said. 

    Monitoring mercury exposure in rural areas is especially challenging due to limited laboratory facilities, transportation and technical capacity. 

    “We cannot manage what we do not measure,” Adero said. “Without proper exposure tracking, policies are just words on paper. We need data that is local, current and trusted by both governments and communities.” 

    Enforcing regulations

    Gibb said that constraints around sample collection, storage and analysis hinder the ability to track exposure and enforce regulations. 

    The Migori county government has signed an agreement with the State Department for Environment and Climate Change to establish demonstration sites for mercury-free processing. But while these techniques can be effective, Gibb said, they require up-front investment, training and new equipment and that some alternatives such as cyanide also pose environmental risks. 

    Adero said that early adoption in countries such as Tanzania and Ghana shows promise but similar scale-up in Kenya remains limited. 

    Gender and social dimensions organizations such as the Association of Women in Energy and Extractives in Kenya address gender disparities by organizing cooperatives, providing training and advocating for gender-sensitive safety policies. 

    In his research, Adero found that significant gender gaps remain, with women overrepresented in the most dangerous roles but undercompensated. This research underscores that these disparities are rooted in systemic deprivation and limited access to education and financial literacy, he said. 

    Bureaucracy and fees

    While formalizing small-scale gold mining through Kenya’s Mining Act of 2016 could improve safety and access to technical assistance, progress is slow, hindered by bureaucracy and high fees. Adero advocates simplifying the permitting processes, reducing costs and exempting small-scale miners from fees — learning from successful models such as Ghana’s community mining schemes.

    Yet until real changes happen on the ground, artisanal miners remain caught between economic necessity and the invisible dangers of mercury poisoning. 

    “It’s what we know, and it works — you can see the gold right away,” said a miner from Migori. 

    But Dr. Adero warns that real progress requires concrete actions, not just policy declarations. Reliable, on-the-ground data to measure mercury exposure and inform decisions is key.

    As Kenyan miners struggle with mercury poisoning, consumers around the world unknowingly wear and invest in gold that carries hidden human and environmental costs. Ultimately, addressing mercury contamination is not just a local challenge, it’s a call to action for global accountability, connecting distant luxury markets directly to the miners who risk their health and lives for precious metals.

     

    Questions to consider:

    1. Why do some people in Kenya risk their health to mine for gold?

    2. What are some things the Kenyan government is doing to improve the lives of gold miners?

    3. Why do you think gold is considered so valuable?

     

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  • Can the sea’s rise be a language’s demise?

    Can the sea’s rise be a language’s demise?

    A language is not merely a collection of words; it is a symphony of memories, a melody that holds the heartbeat of a nation. It is a living chronicle of history, breathed across the ages, inscribed on the rhythms of life and sung by the winds that dance upon the sacred lands.

    Picture a serene village cradled among ancient mountains, where elders speak a tongue as timeless as the rocks beneath their feet. Each syllable is a thread, knitted into a rich tapestry of legends, lore and traditions that bind them to the soil they call home.  

    But what becomes of this language when the land itself starts to crumble? When the waves rise to consume coasts, or parched earth splits under a blistering sun, does the song fall silent? Today, as the planet warms, it is not only ice caps and forests that vanish — but languages, and with them, entire ways of perceiving the world.

    Around the globe, ancient languages — the essence of human history — are vanishing. Climate change, a tenacious force reshaping landscapes, frays the delicate cultural threads that root communities to their identity. Rising seas engulf islands where indigenous tongues blossom like rare flowers. Wildfires sweep away more than homes, reducing sacred spaces and oral histories to ash. Each vanished habitat is a stilled voice, an erased library of metaphors, idioms and songs that offered a unique lens on life.

    Language extinction

    According to a 2021 report by the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, more than 40% of the world’s estimated 7,000 languages are at risk of disappearing. “When a language dies,” said linguist K. David Harrison, “a unique vision of the world is lost.”

    While globalisation and modernisation are often blamed for the erosion of ancient languages, environmental destruction plays an even more insidious role, quietly displacing communities and severing their linguistic roots. When climatic disasters scatter people, they do not only lose their home — they lose the vessel of their shared soul. Dispersed and assimilating, their words, their tales, their melodies — once carried across centuries — fade into echoes long forgotten.

    Today, nearly half of all languages spoken globally are endangered. According to UNESCO, one language disappears every two weeks — a rhythm of loss as steady as the ticking of a clock. In this tide of vanishing voices, climate change surges as an unrecognised adversary, disrupting the habitats where these languages are rooted.

    Consider the small island nations of the Pacific — Tuvalu, Kiribati, the Marshall Islands — where languages are inseparable from the ocean’s ebb and flow. As seas rise up to threaten these vulnerable islands, the inhabitants must depart, and with them, their distinct vision of the world drifts away. Words that once named the tides, the winds, the colour of the sky before monsoon, these vanish as the speakers are displaced.

    Likewise, in the Arctic, the Sámi and Inuit communities confront an ugly truth: their languages, like their frozen lands, are melting under the pressure of a warming world. The vocabulary used to describe different types of snow, hunting rituals or the behaviour of migrating herds holds ancestral wisdom. As the landscape changes, the words that once matched its rhythms no longer apply — and are slowly lost.

    Worldviews and wisdom

    When languages are lost, they take with them entire worldviews and centuries of wisdom encoded in words. The knowledge of forests, of skies, of seas — how to farm to the beat of nature, how to heal using the plants that grow in secret groves — is lost.

    For instance, in the Amazon rainforest, indigenous languages such as Kayapo contain the secrets of life-abundant ecosystems. According to Survival International and linguistic researchers, these languages encode unique ecological wisdom that cannot be translated. Each word is a secret to decoding the harmony of nature and each lost language shelves an irreplaceable piece of the puzzle.

    In the Philippines, the Agta people hold oral traditions that teach sustainable fishing and forest stewardship. Their language contains knowledge passed down through chants and stories that teach children when to harvest, what to leave behind and how to give back. Without their land, without their rituals, such teachings dissolve.

    In Vanuatu, where the rising tide of the ocean promises to wash away land and language, communities are in a mad dash to record their heritage. Elders and linguists collaborate, transcribing words into digital platforms, preserving the poetry of their world for future generations. Stories once passed from mouth to ear around firelight are now finding their way into apps, audio archives and cloud storage — fragile vessels carrying ancient truths.

    A fading past and uncertain future

    Technology, too, becomes a bridge between the fading past and an uncertain future. Apps like Duolingo and platforms like Google’s Endangered Languages Project breathe new life into ancient words, making them accessible to the young and curious.

    Augmented reality and virtual storytelling spaces are beginning to preserve not just the language, but the experience of being immersed in it. But technology alone cannot carry the weight of this preservation. It must be paired with policies that protect the vulnerable — giving displaced communities a voice not only in language preservation but in shaping climate action itself.

    Governments must go beyond digitisation and invest in cultural resilience. Language must be taught in schools, inscribed in constitutions, spoken on airwaves and celebrated in ceremonies. We need climate policies that understand that saving ecosystems and saving languages are part of the same struggle. Both are about preserving what makes us human.

    In the end, saving a language is an act of defiance against the erasure of identity. It is a way to honour the past while forging a path to a sustainable future. These languages do not merely recount history — they carry the wisdom of living in harmony with the Earth. In their poetry and proverbs, in their songs and silences, they have answers to questions we have not even thought to ask yet.

    To preserve these voices, we must become their echoes. We must act before it’s too late. Before the last storytellers fall silent. Before the rivers can no longer remember the songs they once inspired. To save a language is to save a piece of ourselves — the spirit of who we are, where we’ve been and the dreams of where we might go.

    When we lose a language, we don’t just lose words — we lose the Earth’s voice itself. If these voices vanish, who will remember the names of the stars? Who will tell us how the mountains mourned or the forests sang? The Earth is listening and its languages are calling. 

    Let us not forget how to answer.

     

    Questions to consider:

    1. Why are languages at risk of extinction due to climate change?

    2. How are preservation of language connected to whole cultures?

    3. Why might someone want to master a language that is not widely spoken?

     

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  • A pipeline of prosperity or plunder

    A pipeline of prosperity or plunder

    In the sticky heat of an April afternoon in Kampala, Uganda nine university students stood outside the headquarters of Stanbic Bank, their voices raised in protest. It is a sound that has echoed for more than half a decade.

    Their signs called for an end to the East African Crude Oil Pipeline (EACOP), a $5 billion project: 1,443 kilometers of 24-inch wide, heated and buried steel ambition, snaking from Uganda’s oil-rich Lake Albert basin to the Tanzanian port of Tanga on the Indian Ocean. Before the hour was out, they were in police custody.

    The government has hailed the project as a pillar of economic transformation. But critics — students, activists, and environmental groups — argue it will displace communities, threaten biodiversity and entrench a model of development that sidelines democratic participation. Dissent has been met with arrests, surveillance and a steadily shrinking civic space. The protests, though often silenced, persist, challenging a narrative that equates oil with progress.

    Five days after the arrests, in the same city, a different kind of statement was made. At the Eleventh Africa Regional Forum on Sustainable Development, held from April 7th to 11th, delegates issued a call that seemed — if only for a moment — to resonate with those voices on the street.

    The route of the East Africa Crude Oil Pipeline. Wikimedia Commons

    Members of the UN Economic Commission for Africa urged a shift away from exporting raw materials and toward value addition through manufacturing and industrialisation. Mining, they said, and the export of cash crops like cocoa, tea and coffee must no longer be the end of the story, but the beginning of something built to last.

    Shouting into the void

    For the students arrested, whose protests have long been dismissed as anti-developmental by a government intent on progress-by-pipeline, this sudden harmony of rhetoric might feel like vindication — if only the delegates meant what they propose.

    The students may have been shouting into a void, but the echoes resonate with a wider pattern etched deep into the continent’s political and economic architecture. Back in 2016, journalist Tom Burgis, author of “The Looting Machine”, put it in a 2016 interview with CNN: “There is a pretty straight line from colonial exploitation to modern exploitation.”

    Burgis has long documented the mechanisms of resource extraction in Africa and pointed to the lingering dominance of oil and mining multinationals — entities that, decades after independence, still wield economic and political influence akin to that once held by colonial administrations.

    Zaki Mamdoo, a South African climate justice activist and campaigner with the Stop EACOP coalition, agrees with Burgis’s notion of modern resource imperialism — only now, the governors wear suits and operate through shareholder meetings.

    “How come TotalEnergies owns 62% shareholding power, while Uganda and Tanzania hold just 15% each?” he said.

    Partnership or plunder?

    The numbers speak for themselves. The French oil giant TotalEnergies, with Chinese partner CNOOC in tow, controls the lion’s share of the project. Uganda, the country from which the oil originates, has been cast in the role of host, not owner. Tanzania, whose land will bear the pipeline’s longest stretch, fares no better. For Mamdoo and many others, this is not a partnership; it’s a palatable version of plunder.

    “This is not African-led development,” Mamdoo said. “It’s an extractive model dressed up in nationalist rhetoric.”

    To critics, EACOP is a 21st-century replay of old patterns — resources extracted with little local benefit, profits flowing abroad and environmental costs left with the people. What’s different now is the packaging: marketed as part of an energy transition and a driver of economic empowerment. But on the ground, the reality is displacement, disrupted livelihoods and fragile ecosystems in the pipeline’s path.

    According to EACOP’s official figures, more than 13,600 people have been affected, with 99.4% of compensation agreements signed and paid. But activists argue the numbers mask deeper issues — slow and uneven compensation, uprooted communities and long-term uncertainty.

    “The real number is far higher,” said Mamdoo. “We’re talking well over 100,000 directly impacted — and many more indirectly. But of course, Total reports a few tens of thousands.”

    Differing views on sustainability

    From Uganda’s farmlands to Tanzania’s reserves, the pipeline cuts through forests, wetlands and biodiversity hotspots — what critics see as a trail of ecological and human disruption beneath a polished PR campaign.

    By underreporting those impacted, critics argue, multinationals shrink their obligations — and their compensation budgets. The payments, when they come, have been slow, sporadic and, in some cases, still absent. Yet the construction rolls forward.

    To Morris Nyombi, a Ugandan activist now living in exile for his work opposing EACOP, the narrative of compensation is as hollow as it is dangerous.

    He watches from afar as national television and international media spotlight a few smiling beneficiaries — residents celebrating a new house, a fresh coat of paint, a sense of reward.

    Nyombi sees what isn’t shown. “Let’s state facts, when minerals are found somewhere, just know that’s lost land — it becomes government property,” Nyombi said. “And to the select few given houses, what then? You’re an agriculturist. Giving you a house somewhere else doesn’t mean giving you land to till. You’re killing a way of life.”

    A pipeline of displacement

    Without farmland, families are forced to sell off whatever land remains and move to towns and cities in search of new beginnings.

    “They end up in Kampala renting, looking for what to do,” Nyombi said. “It’s displacement without a plan. Progress for someone else.”

    Farmers who were near the pipeline’s path are now scattered across the Uganda-Congo border, Nyombi said. “They were duped into compensation. When they resisted, they started receiving threats. Husbands arrested. The women and children forced to run, to hide. That’s the reality.”

    These, Nyombi said, are the people the government never talks about. They don’t show up in speeches or glossy brochures about development. But their lives tell the story better than any pipeline prospectus ever could.

    But speaking out against EACOP is dangerous. “It’s a gamble with one’s life,” Nyombi said. Being an activist, he adds, is a kind of social exile. Most organizations won’t hire you — won’t even stand next to you. In much of Africa, governments don’t hesitate to hit below the belt.

    A lake that sustains life

    Nyombi has been on the government’s radar since 2020. He has been threatened and surveilled and been the subject of smear campaigns. As a result, he stepped back from frontline organizing.

    But what if the project were perfectly managed with strict environmental safeguards, zero corruption and full compensation? Would that make EACOP justifiable?

    Mamdoo said that isn’t what is happening, citing reports of oil slicks on Lake Albert and elephants rampaging villages. The very question betrays a fundamental misunderstanding, Mamdoo said. Environmental damage isn’t a hypothetical risk, it’s already unfolding.

    “If oil spills hit Lake Victoria—the region’s largest freshwater body—over 40 million people would be poisoned,” he said.

    Lake Victoria sustains agriculture, fishing, drinking water, and transport across Uganda, Tanzania and Kenya. It’s East Africa’s largest inland water body — and the source of the Nile. Yet while project backers point to EACOP’s technical safeguards, critics like Mamdoo argue that no pipeline cutting through seismically active zones, protected ecosystems and critical watersheds can ever be truly safe.

    “You can’t just contain a pipeline,” Mamdoo adds. “You can’t plug all the holes when the system is built to leak — money, justice, land, people.”

    Keeping oil where it is extracted

    Supporters of the pipeline argue that projects like EACOP could open the door for substantial donations to tourism development and wildlife protection, especially in ecologically sensitive zones where the pipeline runs near or through national parks. The idea is that the extractive industry might fund preservation as part of its footprint.

    But to Mamdoo, that premise is flawed from the start.

    “What’s that compared to the 62% they’re taking?” Mamdoo asks. “You shouldn’t settle for peanuts when you own a resource.”

    Being a funder, he adds, doesn’t make you the owner. Mamdoo would like to see the oil stay in Uganda. “We’d be having an entirely different conversation if the plan was to have our own refineries, process it locally, then sell the products to them,” he said.

    Nyombi isn’t surprised that the government supports EACOP. Historically, leaders who stand up to corporations and the Global North haven’t lasted. “These multinationals don’t want an Africa that sees clearly,” Nyombi continues. “They want us manageable. If you open your eyes and demand real sovereignty, you become a threat to global stability.”

    Taking on global establishment isn’t easy.

    Some critics point to the case of Muammar Gaddafi, the Libyan leader who championed a gold-backed African currency and pan-African resource control before being toppled in a NATO-backed intervention. His fall, they argue, wasn’t just about domestic tyranny — it was about challenging the global status quo.

    Yet among younger Ugandans, particularly students, the legacy of figures like Gaddafi is often blurred or reduced to villainy — taught more as a cautionary tale than a case study in resistance. The narratives they inherit are tightly curated. But still, a shift is happening.

    Especially among those studying environmental science, Nyombi sees a growing restlessness.

    “These students, they want to act,” Nyombi said. “They’re interested in ground action. But more than that — they’re asking deeper questions. They wonder, why keep planting trees that won’t grow?”

    There’s a frustration with symbolic gestures — school-organized clean-ups, ceremonial tree-plantings — that often sidestep the policies creating the very destruction they’re meant to remedy.

    “They’re starting to say, no, the problem isn’t the seedling. It’s the system. So why not challenge policy instead?” Nyombi said. “But to challenge policy, you have to get out there.”

    That’s how the students who were arrested on 2 April while approaching Uganda’s Stanbic Bank came to act.

    Taking protests to the front line

    Mamdoo said that the protest was not just symbolic — it was strategic. Stanbic is one of the banks linked to funding the East African Crude Oil Pipeline. For the students, it was the front line.

    “They’re trying to secure their future,” Mamdoo said.

    But the bank saw it differently. Kenneth Agutamba, Stanbic Uganda’s country manager for corporate communications, defended the institution’s involvement.

    “Our participation aligns with our commitment to a just transition that balances economic development with environmental sustainability,” Agutamba said. “The project has met all necessary compliance requirements under the Equator Principles and our Climate Policy.”

    For the students, though, no statement or principle outweighs what they see as the theft of their future. Their protest, they insist, is not rooted in mere outrage. It’s anchored in a growing global reckoning: at least 43 banks and 29 insurance companies have declined to support EACOP, citing its environmental threats and human rights risks.

    But despite the pressure from abroad, the pipeline — and the crackdowns — continue to move forward.

    “That’s why we’re targeting the funders,” Mamdoo said. “If the money dries up, the project can’t survive.”

    Dissent and disappearance

    The students arrested will likely be released — this time. They’re lucky. Local papers spoke of them. Many others vanish into cells for months, even years, without trial — especially those without lawyers, or whose names never make it into the headlines.

    If there’s a single line that captures the price of resistance, it might be Braczkowski’s blunt warning: “Any oil activist in Uganda will be sniffed out before Total.” Oil, he adds, has become Uganda’s gold — a lifeline that may help service the country’s mounting debt.

    “That’s exactly the problem,” Mamdoo counters. “If all it does is pay off debt, what’s left for the people? There won’t be money for schools, for hospitals — just enough to keep the lights on in their offices.”

    It’s been nearly a decade since EACOP was first proposed. Only now, as shovels hit soil and risks become real, has public scrutiny begun to catch up. And that, Mamdoo and Nyombi agree, is because of activism.

    “Without it,” Nyombi said, “this would’ve gone quietly. Smoothly. Just another deal signed behind closed doors.”

    But things aren’t moving as fast as they once were.

    “Activism has slowed them down,” Nyombi adds. “It’s not moving at the pace they wanted.”

    So what’s the real equation here? A pipeline backed by billions. A government banking on oil. A continent still clawing for control of its wealth. And in the middle — students, farmers, mothers, exiles — bearing the cost of asking the most dangerous question of all:

    What if we said no?

     

    Three questions to consider:

    1. What is EACOP?

    2. Why are many people in East Africa opposed to a pipeline that promises to bring money to the region?

    3. If you were in charge of natural resources for Uganda, what policies would you put in place?

     

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  • What happens to the ski runs when the snow runs out?

    What happens to the ski runs when the snow runs out?

    I’m in high school now, and skiing is one of my favorite things to do — but I know it’s something my grandkids may never get to experience. 

    Normally the bike trails underneath the chairlift would be buried under a thick blanket of snow in the winter. But as temperatures begin to rise, more and more people are beginning to see the snow fade to brown earlier than ever before. Skiing could very well become a relic of the past — an age-old sport confined to history books and old photographs. 

    According to a study conducted by U.S. climate scientists in 2017 and funded by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s Office of Atmospheric Programs, “season length changes” due to warming winters “could result in millions to tens of millions of foregone recreational visits annually by 2050, with an annual monetized impact of hundreds of millions of dollars.”

    These same scientists found that ski seasons in the United States are expected to see reductions in length, exceeding 50% in 2050 and 80% in 2090 for some locations.

    The reality is that by the end of the century most resorts in the United States will have closed. While it may seem like artificial snow is the solution to this monumental problem, that is not the case. This fake snow may be able to help resorts stay afloat for the next decade or so, but it is not a viable option in the long run.

    Can we make snow?

    According to an article published by the American Chemical Society in 2019, snow making takes energy, mostly fossil-based, which further exacerbates the issue by contributing to more carbon emissions.

    Not only are these snow makers harmful to the environment, but as temperatures begin to rise, there are less windows for snowmaking itself. 

    Dr. Elizabeth Burakowski, a climate scientist at the University of New Hampshire, said that snowmaking operations require temperatures that are below freezing to operate efficiently. This means that even though artificial snow can be useful in the short term, it won’t be a feasible solution in the future as the conditions needed for making that snow begin to disappear.

    More importantly, artificial snow is merely a band-aid on a much larger wound. The onus is instead on ourselves to remedy this problem and not the resorts trying to scramble for answers. 

    Amie Engerbretson, a professional skier and climate activist, thinks that both skiers and resorts are reluctant to talk about the problem. “I think they’re scared,” Engerbretson said. “I think they’re scared of being called a hypocrite.” This fear is understandable. Many in the ski-industry rely on fossil-fuel powered lifts and snowmobiles and travel to enjoy the sport they love. 

    Let’s speak for the snow.

    To Burakowski, speaking out means acknowledging these contradictions. “If anyone expects to be a perfect advocate, then they’re setting the bar impossibly high,” she said. 

    This is where the conversation around climate change usually stalls. Many athletes and outdoor enthusiasts hesitate to take a stand because they either don’t think their opinion matters or they don’t want to seem like hypocrites themselves. However, advocacy can reflect the complications as long as what is being advocated is progress toward a greener future.

    Most people get too caught up in the individual aspect of climate advocacy and climate change in general. However, if we try to address this problem as individuals, we won’t make much progress. 

    Instead, change will come from systemic action and involvement in the public sphere. When I asked Dr. Burakowski what the best thing someone can do to make an impact, she said: “vote”. 

    With the way things are going, just remembering to turn off your lights when you leave a room or buying an electric car will not be the difference between sustainability or catastrophe. Real progress requires a collective effort — new climate policy, corporate accountability and government action. 

    Questions to consider:

    • Why does the author think that his grandchildren won’t get the chance to experience skiing?

    • Why can’t making snow make up for a lack of snowfall? 

    • What sports do you like that might be at risk from climate change?

     

     

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  • Can we de-stress from climate change distress?

    Can we de-stress from climate change distress?

    Consider that BP, one of the world’s biggest oil companies, popularised the term “carbon footprint”, which places the blame on individuals and their daily choices. 

    Anger also comes up a lot, Robinson said, particularly for young people. 

    “They’re angry this is happening,” she said. “They’re angry they have to deal with it. They’re angry that this is their world that they’re inheriting and that all totally makes sense. It’s not fair to burden young people with this. It’s really important that they have support and action by adults in all kinds of ways throughout society.”

    Working through our feelings

    Then there’s sadness and grief. 

    “We have of course loss of life in many climate disasters,” Robinson said. “That’s really significant. And loss of habitat, loss of biodiversity, loss even of traditions and ways of life for a lot of people, often in Indigenous cultures and others as well.”

    One of the most simple and effective ways we can deal with climate distress is by talking about it, and by giving young people the opportunity and space to do so. 

    “One of the hardest things is that people often feel really isolated,” Robinson said. “And so talking about it with someone, whether that’s a therapist or whether that’s in groups … just anywhere you can find to talk about climate emotions with people who get it. Just talk about climate change and your feelings about it.”

    Having a space to discuss climate change and their feelings associated with it can help a young person feel understood. Talking about feelings in general, known as “affect labelling”, can help reduce the activity of the amygdala — the part of the brain most associated with fear and emotions — in stressful times.

    Unplug yourself.

    Unlimited access to the internet does allow young people to connect with like-minded people and engage in pro-environmental efforts, but the amount of information being consumed can also be harmful. 

    Climate change is often framed in the media as an impending environmental catastrophe, which studies say may contribute to this sense of despair and helplessness, which can lead to young people feeling apathetic and being inactive. 

    Robinson said that while you don’t need to completely cut out reading the news and using social media, it is important to assess the role of media consumption in your life. She suggested setting a short period of time every day where you connect to the media, then try your best to refrain from scrolling and looking at your phone for the rest of the day. 

    “Instead, look outside at nature, at the world we’re actually a part of instead of what we’re getting filtered through the media,” she said.

    For some people, looking at social media around climate is a way of connecting with a community that cares about climate, so it can still be a useful tool for many people. 

    “Our nervous systems can get really hijacked by anxiety,” Robinson said. “We know that when mindfulness is a trait for people, when it really becomes integrated into who they are, that it does help. It’s associated with less climate anxiety in general.”

    Take in the nature around you.

    Studies show that mindfulness can improve symptoms of anxiety and depression. Robinson says this is partly due to it allowing us to be present with whatever feelings come up, that it helps us to stay centred throughout the distress. 

    It can be as simple as taking a mindful walk in a nearby forest or green space. While of course forests are helpful in absorbing carbon and reducing emissions, they can also help us reduce stress. Some studies have shown that spending more than 20 minutes in a forest — noticing the smells, sights and sounds — can reduce the stress hormone cortisol. 

    Robinson said that one of the more powerful things you can do is to band together with others. 

    “Joining together with other people who care and who can have these conversations with you and then want to do something along with you is really powerful,” she said. “We’re social animals as humans, and we need other people and we really need each other now during all of this. And it’s so important to be building those relationships if we don’t have them.”

    It is possible that climate anxiety can increase when young people learn about climate change and the information is just thrown out there, Robinson said, and the opportunity to talk about emotions should be incorporated into learning. 

    “It is different than learning math, or learning a language,” she said. “It’s loaded with all kinds of threat. Kids need to know what to do with that because there is going to be an emotional response.”

    Take climate action.

    It has also been shown that action can be an “antidote” for climate anxiety and that education centred around action empowers youth, when providing ways of engaging with the crisis collectively. 

    Teachers can then help students connect their feelings with actions, whether that be in encouraging their participation in green school projects or on a broader level in their communities. 

    “That action, it helps, it really gives people a sense of agency and they know that they are making a difference,” Robinson said.

    We need to come together, she said, not just to help us feel better, but to find solutions. “I really think that our connection, our systemic issues that we have, are so profound and they really push us away from each other in so many ways.”

    Our societies often favour consumption over connection, she said. “As human beings we developed in the context of nature, evolutionarily,” she said. “We were immersed. We were part of nature, and we are still, but we have increasingly grown apart from that relationship.”

    That changed over time. Now people spend little time in nature even though it’s often all around them.

    “From an eco-psychological sort of point of view, we’re embedded in that system, and we’re harming that system because of that separation that’s developed,” she said. 

     

    Questions to consider:

    1. What is “climate anxiety”?

    2. What is the connection between climate anxiety and education?

    3. How do you handle the stresses that you are under?

     

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  • Giving species the space they need

    Giving species the space they need

    In 1979, Patricia Majluf, then a biology student, started studying eared seals at San Juan. Two species coexist without competing for food on the peninsula: the South American fur seal (Arctocephalus australis) and sea lions (Otaria flavescens).

    A colony of South American fur seals resting at a beach. (Photo: Alfonso Silva-Santisteban)

    In Spanish, they are known as the “fine” and “common” sea lions (lobo fino y lobo chusco), because of their type of fur that led them to be hunted for clothing decades ago.

    Majluf is now one of the most respected marine biologists in the region, whose work led to the creation of a Punta San Juan Program. In 2009, the Peruvian government declared San Juan a natural protected area. Cárdenas arrived as Majluf’s student in 2004. Today, she is a professor at the Universidad Peruana Cayetano Heredia and directs the program.

    “You are the biologist behind the wall, you live and die there,” she said.

    A sea wall protects sea life.

    Kevin Farfán during a daily monitor round.

    Kevin Farfán during a daily monitor round. (Photo by Alfonso Silva-Santisteban)

    Kevin Farfán puts on his windbreaker, hangs up his binoculars and camera and begins his daily monitoring round at 6:30 a.m. He started as an intern seven years ago and now coordinates the station. He walks by San Juan’s 20 beaches, while Odeth Perez, who is on her way to an observation post, says hello from afar.

    All year round, at least two people at the station observe animal behavior, count species with drones and camera traps and monitor sea and air temperatures. Once a year, with the help of U.S. veterinarians, they capture and tag a sample of eared seals and penguins to attach transmitters and study their movements.

    “We have 40 years of data,” Cárdenas said.

    Since 2013, the team has crossed the wall separating the peninsula to connect with the residents of Marcona, a neighboring town founded in the 1950s after the discovery of an iron deposit.

    They began with guided tours. Since 2023, they have initiated a project called Natural Classrooms with students from local schools, serving a town with 15,000 inhabitants.

    Biologist Ximena Turcke is one of the guides. “It is important to reach the children, especially the younger ones,” Turcke said. On this day, she was leading a group of 30 students from Miguel Grau School to one of the viewpoints and later, to a neighboring beach for group work. “I’ve always liked people to identify with their place, wherever they go,” she said.

    Recovery and threats

    The most important thing to remember when walking in San Juan is not to disturb the animals. The eared seal breeding season starts in October and peaks between January and February.

    A group of 1,500 guanay cormorants arrived in October 2024. Before the avian flu in 2022, there were so many that they sometimes blocked the entrance to the team’s observation booth.

    Cárdenas said that there are few places where so many different animals with breeding colonies come together and that’s why the virus spread so quickly.

    Avian influenza AH5N1 is a subtype that affects birds and mammals, including humans in rare cases. The virus emerged in China in 1996 and has caused sporadic outbreaks. However, in 2020, a more transmissible variant of the virus passed from poultry to wild birds and began migrating worldwide. It reached North America in 2021 and South America in 2022. The flu spread from Peru to Chile, Argentina and Uruguay, affecting sea birds and mammals. There were no human cases.

    When Cárdenas arrived in San Juan, wildlife was recovering from the 1998 El Niño phenomenon and she saw how animals adapt to cycles when food is scarce. That’s why she remains optimistic about the repopulation of San Juan. But it will take several years and human activity must not alter the conditions for recovery.

    “There’s an incredible resilience,” she said.

    Limits on fishing

    One of the main threats is fishing. Industrial fishing takes almost 9 out of 10 anchovetas from the Peruvian sea to make fishmeal. Four tons of anchoveta produce one ton of fishmeal, which is mainly used to feed salmon, pigs or chickens in industrial farms around the world.

    Year after year, there are tensions between the fishing industry, the state and environmentalists over fishing quotas or minimum sizes of anchovies that can be caught. The Institute of the Peruvian Sea, the national scientific organization concerning the sustainability of marine resources, is part of the Ministry of Production.

    The conflict of interest is evident for Cárdenas, whose team has observed, by analyzing the feces of eared seals, that these are feeding more and more on smaller fish with less nutritional value. They are consuming what ecologists have called marine ecosystems’ junk food.

    In 2023, the state suspended the first industrial fishing season due to El Niño but reinstated the second one. It was too soon for Cárdenas and Farfán. They oppose the industry’s approach of expanding fishing almost indefinitely without consequences. “There have been no lessons learned from all this,” Cárdenas said. “It’s when these things happen that conservancy is most urgent.”

    Three questions to consider:

    1. How does fishing affect sea life?

    2. How are researchers working to help the sea life at Punta San Juan?

    3. What, if anything, can you do to help wildlife near you?

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