The Greater Mekong Subregion (GMS) is a natural economic area bound together by the Mekong River basin that includes parts of Viet Nam, Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, Myanmar, and China. Covering over 1 million square miles, the GMS is home to more than 300 million people, and numerous flora and fauna found nowhere else on Earth. 2,500 new species have been discovered there since 1997, and 115 in 2016 alone.
Abandoned by her father at birth, Agnes, from south west Tanzania, lived for 15 years on the fringes of her community simply because of the way she looked.
Born with a cleft lip, her father could not bear to bring up a child who did not look ‘normal’ so he left. Agnes’s mother tried to get treatment for her daughter but nobody could tell her where to go so she gave up.
In Liberia, farmers are experiencing extreme weather like never before. With heavy rain and strong winds, eroding coasts and degraded soils, Liberia’s most-vulnerable communities face ever-increasing risks from climate change.
For centuries, Liberians have relied on traditional knowledge for farming. They knew it would be wet in the last half of the year, dry in the first.
By Paul Simpson, CEO, CDP
The Government of Zambia is activating climate actions across the country to achieve its contributions to the Paris Agreement. Not only will this work protect the nation’s environment and contribute to reducing greenhouse gases worldwide, it will also provide the foundation to end poverty, hunger and inequality in a place where 6 out of 10 people still live below the poverty line and don’t make enough money to meet basic food requirements.
Two oceans, three distinct languages, six Small Island Developing States (SIDS): the nations of Cabo Verde, Comoros, Maldives, Mauritius, São Tomé & Príncipe and Seychelles are geographically dispersed, but they have come together to improve the management of water resources.
By J. Carl Ganter and Eileen E. Ganter, co-founders, Circle of Blue
By Naina Lal Kidwai, member of the Global Commission on the Economy and Climate
It’s Monday morning in Bengaluru. As you step out your front door, a rickshaw you ordered with your smartphone is already waiting to whisk you to the metro. After your metro trip, you emerge from the station across the city to find another rickshaw ready to take you to the office. Not a moment is wasted.
Any visitor to southern Chile’s ancient Valdivian rainforest could be excused for missing the tiny and unassuming Barrio’s frog, one of the world’s rarest amphibians.
Blending into the riverbanks and streambeds of its forest home, the frog’s stippled, rust-brown back makes it all but invisible to the untrained eye. Its resonant, drawn-out creaking call is often the only sign of this species on the edge.
When Bundauda Samasa was a boy, everyone knew to the day when the rains would start and stop sprinkling the fields in The Gambia’s Upper River Region, and what harvest of groundnuts, vegetables, rice and pulses to expect.
Now standing in his bleached, patchy fields skirting Dingiri village as donkeys pick at the odd tufts of straw, kicking up clouds of terracotta dust, 57-year-old Samasa yearns for the days when life was predictable because the seasons didn’t change.