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Marinel faced the effects of climate change herself and it made her a human rights defender

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Surviving climate change, demanding dignity

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Surviving climate change, demanding dignity

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Marinel Sumook Ubaldo was 16 when she knew she had to fight to find a way to protect herself and her community from the disastrous effects of climate change. She survived the deadly Typhoon Yolanda in 2013 to become a leading youth activist, dedicated to ensuring governments around the world confront climate change and tackle its effects on her community and others like it.

A nature lover and well-known youth activist, Marinel spends her spare time campaigning for her community’s rights. In September 2018, she went to New York City to give evidence to an investigation into climate change and the way fossil fuel industries contribute to it.

“I’m not just… a climate statistic,” My story is only one of many, and I’m here to speak on behalf of the vulnerable and the marginalized communities — may our voices be heard.”

Marinel, her family and thousands of others who lost their homes in the typhoon need food, water, housing, electricity and toilets. The Philippine government has not done enough and has left them to live in unhealthy conditions where it is hard to earn a livelihood.

Watch the video about Marinel here

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Youth activist of Grassy Narrows are taking on one of Cana'da's worst health crises. 

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For 50 years, the Canadian government has ignored the devastating impact of mercury contamination on the Indigenous community of Grassy Narrows in Ontario. But the community’s young people are rising and making it impossible for the government to keep turning away.

Darwin Fobister, aged 22,  is one of many young people who have challenged the Canadian government, demanding justice for a decades-long wrong that has blighted their community.

“It’s Canada’s worst health crisis, but the government wants to keep it quiet. We’re not going to let them.”

In the 1960s, the Canadian government allowed a pulp mill to dump an estimated 10 tonnes of mercury into the English-Wabigoon river system. The Indigenous Anishinaabe people of Grassy Narrows, who live downstream from where the plant once stood, rely on the river for their livelihood, sustenance and culture. With their rivers and fish poisoned by mercury, they have suffered decades of serious health problems.

“I have many health conditions that I shouldn’t be dealing with at my age.” I have trouble speaking. I have speech impairments. I have learning disabilities.”

Mercury poisoning attacks the nervous system, causing numbness, coordination problems, loss of vision, learning disabilities, anxiety and many other health conditions.

“What makes it worse is that the government knew about the poisoning for decades but chose to ignore it.There’s been a half a century of denial and inaction.”

The impact of mercury contamination has crossed generations of community members. For much of the last five decades, Canada’s federal and provincial governments have withheld crucial health information from the people of Grassy Narrows, refused to clean up the river system, failed to provide specialized health care, and even denied that there was a threat from mercury poisoning.

Kenny and Janet compete at the fish derby during the Grassy Narrows’ summer powwow. The community has had to work hard to keep their traditions alive in the wake of mercury pollution.

The summer powwow is one way that the young people of Grassy Narrows stay connected to their traditions – vital for a community that has been robbed of its health and livelihood by a negligent government. 94% of Grassy Narrows members get no compensation for the serious impacts of the ongoing mercury crisis.

In 2017, the Ontario government promised to fund a clean-up of the river system and the Canadian government promised to build a specialised care centre at Grassy Narrows to support people suffering from mercury poisoning. Neither promise has been met.  “I want the youth to have the best future they can ever have,” says Darwin. “Better than our future.”

In June 2019, over 40 members of the Grassy Narrows community travelled 1,700km from their home to demand that the government make good on its promise to build a care centre for survivors of mercury poisoning. Since 2012, the youth of Grassy Narrows have held an annual rally for mercury justice. Today their cries for justice have been taken up by people across Canada and beyond.

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Shahnewaz is facing the effects of pollution everyday

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A big cricket fan, Shahnewaz has been playing since childhood. He also has a passion for writing and uses the written word to speak out about the struggles faced by people in his region of Banshkhali, a low-lying coastal area in the south-east of Bangladesh, vulnerable to the impact of climate change.

A new coal-fired power plant in Shahnewaz’s village was supposed to be a turning point in the region’s development. But Shahnewaz was scared about the environmental destruction it would bring. On 26 May 2021, the area was swept up by a storm. Heavy rainfall and strong winds pounded the village. Homes were destroyed. Worried about the impact of environmentally damaging projects like the new power plant, which he believed contributed to an increase in tidal surges, Shahnewaz took to Facebook to raise his concerns. Encouraging young people to speak out.

“The youth of Banshkhali must resist injustice and support development through fearless writing.”

The following day, the power plant company filed a case against Shahnewaz, accusing him of posting false information. On 28 May 2021, he was arrested by the police for his Facebook post under Bangladesh’s oppressive Digital Security Act. He was detained in inhumane conditions for 80 days, without trial. Shahnewaz was granted bail on 16 August 2021, but if he’s convicted, he faces many years in prison.

Watch the video about Shahnewaz here

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Berta Caceras was killed because of her activism. 

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On 2 March 2016, Berta Cáceres, a courageous defender of the environment and Indigenous rights, was shot dead by armed men in her home in Intibucá, Honduras. She was the coordinator of the Civic Council of Popular and Indigenous Organizations of Honduras (COPINH) and campaigned against the Agua Zarca hydroelectric dam project and the impact it would have on the territory of the Lenca Indigenous people.

In Honduras killing is the biggest danger faced by enviromental defenders. 'Global Witness' states that it was the world's second highest homicide rate per capita. The start of 2022 was particulary deadly for enviromental defenders, with two deaths already in January.

Despite the seriousness of the attacks on these defenders, Honduras has not yet signed the Escazú Agreement; the first environmental human rights treaty in Latin America and the Caribbean, which obliges signatory states to protect environmental defenders and entered into force on 22 April 2021.

Though in constant danger COPINH continues advocating for enviromental and indigenous rights. They demonstrate against government's decisions but also support the local community. The biggest group of Indigenous People in this area 'The Lenca' face constant treats in their everyday life. From being attacked with manchetes during their agricultural work to death treaths. Amnesty International keeps documenting threats, including disappearances and targeting environmentalists.

On Wednesday, 18 May, the National Criminal Sentencing Court in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, is scheduled to announce the sentence imposed on David Castillo, former manager of the company Desarrollos Energéticos and in charge of the Agua Zarca hydroelectric project, who was convicted nine months ago as a co-author of the killing of human rights defender Berta Cáceres in 2016.

“Knowing the punishment handed down on those who participated in the heinous crime against Indigenous leader Berta Cáceres is a key moment in the search for truth, justice and reparation for her family, who have endured a wait of more than six years for this. The Honduran authorities must show themselves equal to the task and ensure that the sentence, including its implementation, is in line with the highest human rights standards, ensuring that Berta’s killing does not go unpunished,” said Erika Guevara-Rosas, Americas director at Amnesty International.

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“Unfortunately, this process does not end here. Around the world, the wait continues to know the full truth about the killing of Berta Cáceres so that all those responsible can be held accountable. Berta Cáceres’ case must set a precedent for access to justice for human rights defenders in Honduras who continue to lose their lives in order to save our planet.”

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Standing Rock Indian Reservation, Central Corson, South Dakota, Verenigde Staten

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Tokata Iron Eyes was a youth leader of "ReZpect our Water", a campaign against the proposed route of the Dakota Access Pipeline.

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Tokata (Future) Iron Eyes is a member of the Standing Rock Sioux tribe in the United States. When she was nine, she testified against the building of a uranium mine in the sacred Black Hills. When she was twelve, she spoke in a video appealing for public support for her people’s battle against the proposed route of the Dakota Access oil pipeline. The campaign helped draw thousands of national and international visitors to Standing Rock to fight the pipeline in a protest that lasted nearly a year.  In 2020, aged sixteen, Tokata Iron Eyes joined the board of a new sustainable energy group called Indigenised Energy. She continues to advocate for the planet and Indigenous rights.

Although Tokata already has a long history of activism, she is not very fond of the title.

I’m not sure I’d ever call myself an activist – I think it’s fair to say that in this day and age, what it means to be an “activist” is different for everyone. For some this work is a choice, for others, a necessity.  Activism should be an inherent part of what it means to be alive right now, or you’re on the wrong side of history.

Tokata had a very rich upbringing and states that a whole circle approach is needed for het work.

My parents gave me a beautiful history. My school showed me where those things lived – not what they looked like presently but how we were seen on a global stage, or at least how we were portrayed in history textbooks. The falsehoods I was forced to navigate as a native child in a predominantly white institution in Mandan, North Dakota made me forge a truth of my own to hang onto, to build, to learn from. It felt like magic to be able to educate my own teachers, even if I was told I was wrong or as most often, simply ignored. It felt righteous all the same.

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I came to understand that America’s heroes were not my own. That to teach of the heroes I’ve known – Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, Black Elk, Nellie Grey Hawk – would crack the facade of the doctrines which allow education in the U.S to pass as fact. It is an injustice. To uncover the face of racism as a child is a vulnerable process.

Tokata is a member of the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe. She thinks that people should be aware of the rights and contribution of the world's Indigenous people.

From 1830’s to the 1980’s, native children were kidnapped from their families and sent to church-funded and founded boarding schools. These places are entirely comparative to internment camps. This was state sanctioned violence. It was intended to be the dregs of genocide. Those who went either assimilated or were killed. Languages have been lost, borders have been drawn, but our prayers have remembered us. We end each with the phrase mitakuye oyasin, which loosely translated means “we are all related.” That all is all encompassing, transcending binaries, rejecting boundaries – we belong to each other. From oceans to creeks, trees to flowers, roots and stones, we claim them as relative, as kin. The word for children in Lakota is wakhanyeza which means “sacred beings.” These ideas are not new, we have always known.

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Khairiyah is called 'daughter of the sea' because of all the work she does for preserving her enviroment and all living within it. 

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Khairiyah Rahmanyah’s is a true human rights defendeer. Her life has changed since protesting against a mega-project that would transform her seaside hometown into an industrial zone. A fisherman’s daughter from a small village in Chana district, Songkhla province in southern Thailand, Khairiyah is against a cabinet decision that plans to convert 26.8 square kilometers (2,680 hectares) of seaside into an industrial zone built for light and heavy industries such as biomass power plants, petrochemical production, biochemical plants, as well as deep seaports.

As a key representative against this plan, Khairiyah says police and military would often visit her home and people were afraid that something worse would happen to her. But she wasn’t scared.

“The only thing I fear the most is that the industrial zone will be successfully constructed,”

“It only takes 50 steps to walk from my house to the beach. When I was a kid, I had fun building sandcastles, searching for shells to make toys, and just play,” Khairiyah recalls. “On a calm day, we can see dolphins swim around in front of my house. The fishermen see them almost every day so they don’t think it’s special. But visitors always like to take photos.”

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“The ocean not only provides food to our communities, but also feeds people all over the region and different countries. Fishing vessels sell seafood to markets and restaurants, which later is transported to Bangkok and other provinces. If the catch is at the port in Songkhla, it will be exported to Malaysia, Singapore, Japan, and South Korea,”

Khairiyah started advocating for enviromental rights at an early age. At the end of 2017 she attented her first demonstration.

“While there were only 50 villagers, there were 500 police officers armed with shields and sticks. We came peacefully to submit the letter to the PM, but our villagers were sentenced, and my father was arrested. I saw 10 police officers gathering to stop my father. A woman tried to help him, but she couldn’t fight against those strong officers. At that time, I was small and was hit. I tried to go on Facebook live to help save our villagers, but one of the police officers knocked my phone away,”

The memory from that demonstration left many questions on her mind about justice and fairness. How could this happen? Afterall, she and other villagers marched peacefully and unarmed.

“When my father was released from the prison, I saw metal chains fastened to his arms with other villagers,” Khairiyah painfully recalled. “It looked as if they were being sentenced for killing hundreds of people, but the truth was we just wanted to submit a letter to the PM. Besides, we were accused of assaulting police officers and blocking the roads. They said we were carrying concealed weapons in public. We marched with a green flag as a symbol to protect the environment and to protest against coal-fired power plants. That was the only weapon we had.”

“I have been raised and surrounded by a healthy environment. I want to pass these fortunes to younger generations. This is what I always hold on to.”