When I arrived in Belém for the COP30 climate conference, I was struck by the warm, humid air filled with the scent of the Amazon. This place felt familiar, like a long-lost relative. It is more than just a location; it embodies the essence of the Amazon itself.
Surrounded by the world’s largest tropical forest and vibrant Indigenous communities, I couldn’t help but notice that the conference’s discussions often felt disconnected from the reality here. Terms like “mitigation” and “adaptation” floated around while many in the local communities live these concepts daily. To them, these are not just words; they represent survival.
My grandfather’s voice echoed in my mind. He believed the forest is a living entity that listens. I imagined his thoughts if he witnessed thousands of people in Belém discussing ways to save the Amazon while many locals who truly understand its rhythms were absent.
Being an Indigenous communicator at COP feels like straddling two worlds. Inside the conference rooms, policies are discussed in formal settings. Outside, I carry the histories, worries, and dreams of my community, the Shuar people from Ecuador. It’s a balance of understanding both the technical discussions and the lived experiences of our people.
Indigenous communities are often seen as guardians of the forest, yet their voices can be sidelined. As Achuar leader Uyunkar Domingo Peas Nampichkai succinctly put it, “They invite us to speak, but not to decide.” This sentiment should resonate in every corner of the COP.
The official narratives presented at these conferences may show smiles and exchanges, but the real stories often remain hidden. I heard Indigenous leaders debate how to afford basic meals as others discussed climate funds in the millions. It’s a stark contrast and a reminder of the disparities that exist.
“Territory” can be translated as “available land,” but for us, it represents much more—our connection to history, spirituality, and identity. Young Kichwa leader Tony Chimbo shared his disappointment: “I came looking for agreements. I found speeches.” Yet, he remains committed to returning because if we’re not at the table, others will make decisions for us.
Prominent discussions emerged at COP30 regarding the role of Indigenous peoples in climate governance. Ecuador’s representatives, like Tiyua Uyunkar and José Esach, emphasized the need for Indigenous communities to be centrally involved. They advocate for direct financing, suggesting that Amazonian territories should not just be recipients of aid but active players in decision-making.
While meaningful dialogue occurred at COP30, the gap between words and actionable commitments remains vast. Effective change relies on follow-up and genuine collaboration among Indigenous authorities, local governments, and the state. The lengthy negotiation processes can outpace the urgent needs of the communities.
Indigenous voices at COP30 made significant strides, but the challenge lies in translating these discussions into real power. Climate adaptation must involve those living in the territories, rather than being designed from afar. The future depends on the decisions made today, not just in diplomatic settings but in the rivers and forests we call home.
Looking ahead, our presence at COP is crucial. We must continue to speak for ourselves, ensuring that our narratives shape the future. The story of the Amazon cannot be told from a distance—it must echo the voices of those who live and breathe its essence. Our voice must set the course.
Source link
Amazon,Indigenous peoples,Negotiations
