Category: MIL-OSI

Source: Amnesty International –

Somali authorities and the international community have repeatedly failed to protect thousands of people from drought-affected communities in southern Somalia, exposing them to violations of their rights to food, water, family, health and life, Amnesty International said in a new report.

‘No rain, no food, no animals: The human rights impact of drought and displacement in Somalia’ documents how, between 2020 and 2023, climate change-related drought, coupled with conflict and marginalization, forced thousands of people to relocate to camps for internally displaced persons (IDPs) initially in southern Somalia and then to Dadaab Refugee Camp in Kenya. During these arduous journeys, the Somali authorities failed to provide relief, including health services and food.

Somalia is on the frontline of human-induced climate change. As the seventh most climate-vulnerable country in the world, Somalia’s authorities, with the support of the international community, must urgently address the marginalization of communities in southern Somalia who are acutely impacted by global warming caused mainly by fossil fuel combustion

Tigere Chagutah, Amnesty International’s Regional Director for East and Southern Africa

“Somalia is on the frontline of human-induced climate change. As the seventh most climate-vulnerable country in the world, Somalia’s authorities, with the support of the international community, must urgently address the marginalization of communities in southern Somalia who are acutely impacted by global warming caused mainly by fossil fuel combustion, said Tigere Chagutah, Amnesty International’s Regional Director for East and Southern Africa region.

“Somalia’s contribution to global warming is negligible, yet its people are bearing the brunt of the climate crisis, while also facing long running conflict and poverty. High income countries, especially those most responsible for climate change, must step in and meet their obligations to support Somalia in adapting to the effects of climate change.”

The report is based on interviews carried out between September 2024 and March 2025, with 177 people displaced into Dadaab Refugee Camp. Amnesty also interviewed emergency service providers, humanitarian workers, government officials, and climate change experts who either work in Somalia or have knowledge and experience of the country’s vulnerabilities to drought and climate change.

“Everything dried up”

Persistent drought in southern Somalia since 2022, made worse by human induced climate change, has combined with several other factors such as continued conflict to drive mass displacement. With water sources drying up, people have been forced to drink contaminated water, fostering the spread of water-borne diseases including cholera. The scarcity of local health facilities forced people to travel up to 1000km for treatment.

The drought also caused food prices to rise by up to 160% above pre-2020 levels across Somalia. This, coupled with depleted food stores, dry farmlands and reduced incomes, made food unavailable and inaccessible, resulting in rampant malnutrition and food insecurity, driving further displacement. The drought was eventually declared a national disaster in November, 2021.  

Despite this growing health crisis, Somalia has failed to fulfil its human rights obligation to guarantee the rights of drought-affected individuals by not increasing its allocation to the health budget – which is currently less than 5% of overall government expenditure – to 15% as set out in the Abuja declaration, a commitment by African Union countries including Somalia to increase national health budgets.

“Limited resources and the ongoing conflict are not an excuse to neglect international obligations and necessary government action; Somalia erred by folding its hands. Having declared the drought a national disaster, authorities should have ensured there were enough resources to protect drought affected people, including by seeking extra international assistance,” said Tigere Chagutah.

Fadumo*, a 53-year-old mother of eight from Xabaalo Barbar in Baydhabo District, told Amnesty that after years of erratic rainfall and drought, she abandoned her farm and moved to an IDP camp in the capital Mogadishu because she had no food and water. The only available water, which was dirty and salty, was from a well 24 hours away on foot or donkey cart. After being unable to find work in Mogadishu, she moved to Dadaab.

Amnesty found that the Somali authorities failed to prevent family separation and the abandonment of children, older people and people with medical conditions during drought-induced displacement.

Bile*, a 33-year-old farmer and father of eight from Fargarow in Jilib, explained how his parents died after he had to move to Dadaab:

“When the drought came, everything dried up. I had eight children, a wife and my parents who were old and relied on me. So, when the drought came, we quickly finished the food that we had stored. I decided to move with my children and wife in 2023. However, since I was their only provider, my parents succumbed to the famine after I left them in Jilib.”

Due to the lack of early warning systems, floods also destroyed grains stored underground resulting in even greater food insecurity during the drought.

When the drought came, everything dried up. I had eight children, a wife and my parents who were old and relied on me. So, when the drought came, we quickly finished the food that we had stored. I decided to move with my children and wife in 2023. However, since I was their only provider, my parents succumbed to the famine after I left them in Jilib.

Bile*, a Somali farmer

“The Somali authorities must urgently come up with climate change resilience policies that also address the resulting loss and damage as witnessed among the most vulnerable communities in southern and central Somalia,” said Tigere Chagutah.

Multiple displacements

Many IDPs said they had been displaced more than once, initially into IDP camps or informal settlements within southern Somalia, where some government services were available and some NGOs were present. However, with many of these sites located in areas of high climate vulnerability, further displacements occurred due to drought or floods.

As the number of IDPs in southern Somalia soared, humanitarian actors lacked adequate resources to address their needs, forcing IDPs to move to Dadaab.

The journey to Dadaab on the Somalia-Kenya border is long and arduous. Depending on the mode of transport it can take anywhere between two days to six weeks. Those with resources could board or hire vehicles. However, the fares are exorbitant and out of reach for many, with some families telling Amnesty International that they had to sell household items, livestock, grains or even land to afford fares.

Having declared the drought a national disaster, authorities should have ensured there were enough resources to protect drought affected people, including by seeking extra international assistance.

Tigere Chagutah

Services from humanitarian organizations and government departments along the transport routes were largely absent, with the limited assistance available appearing to be centralized around settlements and IDP camps and not along transport corridors. This is despite Somalia’s obligations under its constitution and international law, including under the Kampala Convention, to protect those displaced by climate change.

Abdullahi, who travelled from Saakow in Somalia to Dadaab, said:

“When we got to Dhobley, well-wishers picked 15 women and children and gave them a lift in their vehicle to Dadaab. The men were left behind to walk with the donkey carts. We carried sorghum [a type of grain] and water for the children, but they were extremely malnourished on arrival because what we had only lasted a few days.”

Source: Oxfam –

Responding to the impact of Typhoon Kalmaegi (local name Tino) and a potential Super Typhoon Fung-wong (local name Uwan), which could hit the country by this weekend or early next week, Maria Rosario Felizco, Oxfam Philippines Executive Director said:

“Typhoon Kalmaegi carved a path of devastation, leaving a massive humanitarian emergency in its wake. The destruction has been immense, affecting millions of people and stretching the country’s disaster response capacities to their limits. 

“As the full picture is still emerging, the number of dead and affected is likely to rise sharply in the coming days. We know there’s been widespread damage to housing, infrastructure and agriculture, power lines are down, and numerous roads and bridges remain impassable, which is severely hampering relief efforts.

“While Oxfam and its partners are starting to deliver aid to those in need, the crisis is far from over. The country, already reeling from consecutive disasters, is on high alert once again with a potential super typhoon brewing that could be even more deadly. 

“These disasters hitting the Philippines are yet another example of vulnerable communities bearing the brunt of extreme weather exacerbated by the climate crisis. A crisis that has been fuelled by the biggest polluters who must be held to account and pay for the damage they’ve caused.”

Ends

Source: Greenpeace Statement –

BELÉM, BRAZIL, Monday 10 November 2025 – As the COP30 UN climate conference begins in Belém today, Greenpeace Australia Pacific is urging the Australian government to drive forward the action needed to close the 1.5C ambition gap and end forest destruction.

The COP30 climate conference commences in Belém, Brazil today — 10 years on from the landmark Paris Agreement.

The annual climate talks begin as Super Typhoon Uwan batters communities across the Philippines – the second typhoon to hit the country in just a week – leaving a trail of destruction and deaths. A recent report shows Australia has been expanding fossil fuel production faster than any other major producer, including doubling its gas production, since the Paris Agreement.

Speaking from Belém, Shiva Gounden, Head of Pacific at Greenpeace Australia Pacific, said: “The COP30 conference comes at a critical moment for climate action globally. We are dangerously off course from the 1.5°C goal, and soaring fossil fuel production is driving climate pollution to disastrous new highs. 

“As delegates meet to begin negotiations today, over one million people across the Philippines have been evacuated from their homes as Super Typhoon Uwan makes landfall, the second severe storm to hit in just one week. Last year, over half a million people were displaced by Brazil’s most catastrophic floods on record. This same story is playing out in the Pacific and around the world as climate-fuelled disasters accelerate, driven by the rampant expansion of the fossil fuel industry.

“In Belém, we ask governments not to lose sight of the significance of the decisions being made in air conditioned rooms over the next two weeks. Every fraction of a degree of avoided heating will be measured in lives and livelihoods saved, cultures protected, the places we love safeguarded. 

“Australia must confront its status as a major driver of the climate crisis globally and uphold the 1.5°C Paris Agreement target. 1.5°C must remain the goal, the scientific imperative, our legal obligation, and the lifeline for Pacific and Australian communities. We have the solutions and what matters is the action we take now.” 

In Belém at COP30, Greenpeace Australia Pacific is calling on the Australian government to:

• Keep the 1.5C Paris Agreement goal alive by halting new fossil fuel projects, committing to a fast, fair phase out of fossil fuels including exports, and revising Australia’s NDC to a science-aligned target.
• Ensure more grant-based climate finance for mitigation, adaption, and loss and damage. 
• Introduce a polluters pay mechanism that would unlock climate finance, and ensure fossil fuel corporations pay their fair share for climate damage.
• Support action to protect forests and biodiversity, including a new 5-year Forest Action Plan to fulfil the goal of ending deforestation and forest degradation by 2030.

Carolina Pasquali, Executive Director, Greenpeace Brasil said: “COP30 needs to be a turning point. We can no longer treat forest protection, transitioning away from fossil fuels or adaptation as a menu of options. The climate crisis is advancing on all fronts, and the response needs to be ambitious, courageous and immediate.”

“President Lula made this clear at the Leaders Summit, stating that COP30 must deliver concrete roadmaps to reverse deforestation and to overcome our dependence on fossil fuels. He has sent the political signal; now it is time to turn it into real action. 

“The world expects more than ambition in speeches, it expects leadership through action. That means concrete plans to end deforestation by 2030, to transition away from fossil fuel dependence, strengthening adaptation to increase climate resilience, and ensuring the finance needed to make it all real. The era of partial answers is over.”

-ENDS-

Greenpeace has a range of spokespeople on the ground in Belém, Brazil including Pacific leaders, climate and policy experts. 

High res images for media use can be found here 

For more information or interviews contact Kate O’Callaghan on +61 406 231 892 or [email protected]

Source: Greenpeace Statement –

Twelve years since Super Typhoon Yolanda struck, the typhoon still hasn’t left us. It lingers in our fears, in our memories, and in the way we brace for every new gust of wind.

And as we mark yet another year, the world prepares for COP30. But for those of us who have lived the cost of the climate crisis, the conversation feels achingly familiar.

The Question That Lingers

In one of my talks last October, someone asked me a question that stopped me cold: “The campaign against the climate crisis has been going on for years now — why do we keep turning back to zero every time?”

I remember taking a deep breath — not because I didn’t know what to say, but because my body already knew the answer. That sigh carried exhaustion, grief, and frustration. It’s the same feeling that lives in many of us who have spent years trying to make sense of what “recovery” really means after disasters like Super Typhoon Yolanda.

Because even though the fight against climate change has never stopped, it still feels like we’re always starting over. Every new typhoon reminds us how fragile everything still is. Each time the wind howls or the power cuts out, I find myself asking: Does what we do still matter? Are we really moving forward? Or are we just surviving the same story again and again, carrying traumas that never had the chance to heal?

The Typhoon That I Remember

Five days before the twelfth anniversary of Super Typhoon Yolanda, Typhoon Tino swept through the Visayas and Mindanao.

It wasn’t as strong as Yolanda — but it didn’t have to be. The sound of the wind and rain was enough to make our bodies remember. It felt crushing, as if the same fear had come back to visit, right when we thought we’d finally learned to breathe again.

Even if our community was spared from massive destruction, the anxiety never left. We spent hours enduring the forceful winds, sitting in the dark with nothing but the sound of the piercing rain, guarding our roofs, and checking on loved ones to make sure they were safe. In other areas, people weren’t as fortunate — homes were swallowed by mud, children clung to each other through rising floodwaters, families searched desperately for food and clean water, and lives were once again claimed by the typhoon.

Watching it unfold felt painfully familiar. It was as if Yolanda never really left us. It just keeps returning under new names — stronger, stranger, harder to predict.

Twelve years ago, Yolanda forced the world to see climate change not as an abstract concept but as a lived reality. Today, the typhoons are fiercer, our people poorer, and the inequality between those who cause the problem and those who suffer from it has only deepened.

Beyond the Narrative of Loss

For years, we’ve heard people say that our stories humanize the climate science. That our experiences breathe life into the data and numbers that scientists present and leaders debate. And yes, that’s true.

We have told our stories everywhere — at the UN, at climate conferences, in classrooms and community halls — hoping our lived realities would stir something in those with the power to change the system.

And in some ways, it worked. Our experiences after Yolanda helped shape how the
world now talks about resilience, disaster recovery, and loss and damage, etc.

But after twelve years, fatigue sets in. It’s exhausting to keep proving our pain just to make others care — to turn our grief into evidence for a truth that should already be undeniable. We have grown tired of using our suffering as proof of a scientific fact that should never have required lives lost to be believed. Tired of making our own struggles the story just so others will finally listen to what science has long been saying.

How many more deaths and drowned homes must it take before the richest 0.1% of the world accept that their inaction kills?

Our trauma should never be reduced to a case study or a talking point. It should be a wake-up call — a reason to act. We don’t need another super typhoon to awaken and shake people into caring.

The Global Stage and the Typhoon

As I write this, communities in the Visayas are still clearing mud and debris after
Typhoon Tino. And while this is happening, world leaders are preparing to meet in Brazil for COP30. At the same time, another potential super typhoon, Uwan, is looming and may hit the north of the Philippines.

That’s the cruel rhythm of our reality: while the world debates, we rebuild. While
negotiations happen in air-conditioned halls, we hammer nails into roofs, wrap our belongings, save our pets, and pray the next typhoon spares us.

This constant cycle of bracing, surviving, and rebuilding isn’t resilience — it
exhaustion.

And even as we’re forced to stay strong, the injustice deepens. The same industries
and systems that created this crisis still thrive. The same structures that failed us twelve years ago remain unchanged.

From where we stand, waist-deep in floodwater, the global climate talks often feel
distant. Leaders spend weeks defining terms — justice, adaptation, loss and damage, etc. — while communities like ours are trying to survive another disaster worsen by the climate crisis.

For those of us on the frontlines, climate justice is not charity — it’s accountability.
We need real commitments, transparent climate finance, and safeguards to ensure that funds reach the people who need them — not the pockets of the powerful. At COP30, the conversations can’t just be about targets and pledges. They must also be about responsibility — about those who profit from pollution finally paying for the damage they caused.

Oxfam’s recent report, Climate Plunder: How a powerful few are locking the world into disaster, reveals that if everyone lived like the richest 0.1%, the planet’s entire carbon budget would be depleted in less than three weeks. Think about that — three weeks.

That’s how quickly inequality can destroy the planet.

The Corruption That Drowns Us

Here in the Philippines, the story feels even heavier. The corruption of our own leaders drowns us just as the floods do. The very funds meant to protect us like the climate adaptation projects, the flood control systems are pocketed by the same people who claim to serve us.

They turn every disaster into a business opportunity, every tragedy into a contract to be won. They hide behind legalities and glossy plans, but we see what it really is — disaster capitalism, at the expense of our safety and our lives.

It hurts deeply to watch this unfold. To know that while we are hammering nails into our roofs, others are counting the money meant to keep us dry. The same greed that drives the world’s richest 0.1% to destroy the planet is alive here, too — in our towns, in our politics, in the hands of those who should have protected us.

How could they live so comfortably, feasting on the very money that drowns and kills us? How could they sleep soundly while our people wade through murky waters, clutching children, saving pets, praying the rain would finally stop?

It’s not just the typhoons that break us — it’s the betrayal that never ends. And
this betrayal is not isolated; it’s part of a much bigger system — one that rewards greed, normalizes inequality, and silences the vulnerable. This deep-rooted and historical inequality continues to bury communities like ours in a trap we can’t escape simply by being “resilient.”

We cannot keep celebrating their profits from the very inequality that sustains our
suffering.

No Choice but to Keep Fighting

Beneath all the reports, summits, and negotiations, there are still human stories like ours.

We fight not only because we are fearless, but also because we have no choice. We
fight with tired hearts and anxious minds, finding strength in one another — in shared grief, in shared hope.

Every new typhoon reopens the wounds of the last. We hammer nails into our roofs while shaking in fear, pack our bags while holding back tears, and cling to our neighbors as we pray the floodwaters don’t rise again.

People call that resilience. But to us, it’s survival — and survival shouldn’t have to be this hard.

I have always admired how strong our people are, but I also know it’s deeply unfair that strength has become our way of life.

Still, we keep going. Because no one else can tell our story but us.
As Typhoon Tino fades and another typhoon looms, I think of the lives lost to Yolanda, the families displaced today, and the generations whose futures depend on what happens next.

Twelve years later, we are still here — bruised, battered, but unbowed.
We endure not because we want to, but because we must.

May our voices reach Belém.
May our grief be heard not as pity, but as a demand for justice.
And may this year mark not another cycle — but the breaking of one.
May the lives lost twelve years ago not be left in vain.
May we find continued strength from each other to keep this fight going.

Ronan Renz Napoto is a climate advocate from Eastern Samar, Philippines. A survivor of Super Typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan), he turned his experience into a lifelong commitment to climate justice, disaster resilience, and inclusive development. With a background in industrial engineering and further studies in Development Sociology, he works with Oxfam Pilipinas as a Climate Justice Portfolio Officer and volunteers with Greenpeace Philippines. His advocacy centers on advancing climate justice by promoting equitable access to renewable energy, empowering vulnerable communities, and addressing the systemic inequalities that deepen the impacts of the climate crisis.

You might want to check out Greenpeace Philippines’ petition called Courage for Climate, a drive in support of real policy and legal solutions in the pursuit of climate justice.

Source: Greenpeace Statement –

Twelve years since Super Typhoon Yolanda struck, the typhoon still hasn’t left us. It lingers in our fears, in our memories, and in the way we brace for every new gust of wind.

And as we mark yet another year, the world prepares for COP30. But for those of us
who have lived the cost of the climate crisis, the conversation feels achingly familiar.

The Question That Lingers

In one of my talks last October, someone asked me a question that stopped me cold: “The campaign against the climate crisis has been going on for years now — why do we keep turning back to zero every time?”

I remember taking a deep breath — not because I didn’t know what to say, but because my body already knew the answer. That sigh carried exhaustion, grief, and frustration. It’s the same feeling that lives in many of us who have spent years trying to make sense of what “recovery” really means after disasters like Super Typhoon Yolanda.

Because even though the fight against climate change has never stopped, it still feels like we’re always starting over. Every new typhoon reminds us how fragile everything still is. Each time the wind howls or the power cuts out, I find myself asking: Does what we do still matter? Are we really moving forward? Or are we just surviving the same story again and again, carrying traumas that never had the chance to heal?

The Typhoon That Remember

Five days before the twelfth anniversary of Super Typhoon Yolanda, Typhoon Tino
swept through the Visayas and Mindanao.

It wasn’t as strong as Yolanda — but it didn’t have to be. The sound of the wind and rain was enough to make our bodies remember. It felt crushing, as if the same fear had come back to visit, right when we thought we’d finally learned to breathe again.

Even if our community was spared from massive destruction, the anxiety never left. We spent hours enduring the forceful winds, sitting in the dark with nothing but the sound of the piercing rain, guarding our roofs, and checking on loved ones to make sure they were safe. In other areas, people weren’t as fortunate — homes were swallowed by mud, children clung to each other through rising floodwaters, families searched desperately for food and clean water, and lives were once again claimed by the typhoon.

Watching it unfold felt painfully familiar. It was as if Yolanda never really left us. It just keeps returning under new names — stronger, stranger, harder to predict.

Twelve years ago, Yolanda forced the world to see climate change not as an abstract concept but as a lived reality. Today, the typhoons are fiercer, our people poorer, and the inequality between those who cause the problem and those who suffer from it has only deepened.

Beyond the Narrative of Loss

For years, we’ve heard people say that our stories humanize the climate science. That our experiences breathe life into the data and numbers that scientists present and leaders debate. And yes, that’s true.

We have told our stories everywhere — at the UN, at climate conferences, in classrooms and community halls — hoping our lived realities would stir something in those with the power to change the system.

And in some ways, it worked. Our experiences after Yolanda helped shape how the
world now talks about resilience, disaster recovery, and loss and damage, etc.

But after twelve years, fatigue sets in. It’s exhausting to keep proving our pain just to make others care — to turn our grief into evidence for a truth that should already be undeniable. We have grown tired of using our suffering as proof of a scientific fact that should never have required lives lost to be believed. Tired of making our own struggles the story just so others will finally listen to what science has long been saying.

How many more deaths and drowned homes must it take before the richest 0.1% of the world accept that their inaction kills?

Our trauma should never be reduced to a case study or a talking point. It should be a wake-up call — a reason to act. We don’t need another super typhoon to awaken and shake people into caring.

The Global Stage and the Typhoon

As I write this, communities in the Visayas are still clearing mud and debris after
Typhoon Tino. And while this is happening, world leaders are preparing to meet in Brazil for COP30. At the same time, another potential super typhoon, Uwan, is looming and may hit the north of the Philippines.

That’s the cruel rhythm of our reality: while the world debates, we rebuild. While
negotiations happen in air-conditioned halls, we hammer nails into roofs, wrap our belongings, save our pets, and pray the next typhoon spares us.

This constant cycle of bracing, surviving, and rebuilding isn’t resilience — it
exhaustion.

And even as we’re forced to stay strong, the injustice deepens. The same industries
and systems that created this crisis still thrive. The same structures that failed us twelve years ago remain unchanged.

From where we stand, waist-deep in floodwater, the global climate talks often feel
distant. Leaders spend weeks defining terms — justice, adaptation, loss and damage, etc. — while communities like ours are trying to survive another disaster worsen by the climate crisis.

For those of us on the frontlines, climate justice is not charity — it’s accountability.
We need real commitments, transparent climate finance, and safeguards to ensure that funds reach the people who need them — not the pockets of the powerful. At COP30, the conversations can’t just be about targets and pledges. They must also be about responsibility — about those who profit from pollution finally paying for the damage they caused.

Oxfam’s recent report, Climate Plunder: How a powerful few are locking the world into disaster, reveals that if everyone lived like the richest 0.1%, the planet’s entire carbon budget would be depleted in less than three weeks. Think about that — three weeks.

That’s how quickly inequality can destroy the planet.

The Corruption That Drowns Us

Here in the Philippines, the story feels even heavier. The corruption of our own leaders drowns us just as the floods do. The very funds meant to protect us like the climate adaptation projects, the flood control systems are pocketed by the same people who claim to serve us.

They turn every disaster into a business opportunity, every tragedy into a contract to be won. They hide behind legalities and glossy plans, but we see what it really is — disaster capitalism, at the expense of our safety and our lives.

It hurts deeply to watch this unfold. To know that while we are hammering nails into our roofs, others are counting the money meant to keep us dry. The same greed that drives the world’s richest 0.1% to destroy the planet is alive here, too — in our towns, in our politics, in the hands of those who should have protected us.

How could they live so comfortably, feasting on the very money that drowns and kills us? How could they sleep soundly while our people wade through murky waters, clutching children, saving pets, praying the rain would finally stop?

It’s not just the typhoons that break us — it’s the betrayal that never ends. And
this betrayal is not isolated; it’s part of a much bigger system — one that rewards greed, normalizes inequality, and silences the vulnerable. This deep-rooted and historical inequality continues to bury communities like ours in a trap we can’t escape simply by being “resilient.”

We cannot keep celebrating their profits from the very inequality that sustains our
suffering.

No Choice but to Keep Fighting

Beneath all the reports, summits, and negotiations, there are still human stories like ours.

We fight not only because we are fearless, but also because we have no choice. We
fight with tired hearts and anxious minds, finding strength in one another — in shared grief, in shared hope.

Every new typhoon reopens the wounds of the last. We hammer nails into our roofs while shaking in fear, pack our bags while holding back tears, and cling to our neighbors as we pray the floodwaters don’t rise again.

People call that resilience. But to us, it’s survival — and survival shouldn’t have to be this hard.

I have always admired how strong our people are, but I also know it’s deeply unfair that strength has become our way of life.

Still, we keep going. Because no one else can tell our story but us.
As Typhoon Tino fades and another typhoon looms, I think of the lives lost to Yolanda, the families displaced today, and the generations whose futures depend on what happens next.

Twelve years later, we are still here — bruised, battered, but unbowed.
We endure not because we want to, but because we must.

May our voices reach Belém.
May our grief be heard not as pity, but as a demand for justice.
And may this year mark not another cycle — but the breaking of one.
May the lives lost twelve years ago not be left in vain.
May we find continued strength from each other to keep this fight going.

Ronan Renz Napoto is a climate advocate from Eastern Samar, Philippines. A survivor of Super Typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan), he turned his experience into a lifelong commitment to climate justice, disaster resilience, and inclusive development. With a background in industrial engineering and further studies in Development Sociology, he works with Oxfam Pilipinas as a Climate Justice Portfolio Officer and volunteers with Greenpeace Philippines. His advocacy centers on advancing climate justice by promoting equitable access to renewable energy, empowering vulnerable communities, and addressing the systemic inequalities that deepen the impacts of the climate crisis.

You might want to check out Greenpeace Philippines’ petition called Courage for Climate, a drive in support of real policy and legal solutions in the pursuit of climate justice.

Source: Greenpeace Statement –

Belém, Brazil, 6 November 2025 – Greenpeace has called on world leaders meeting at the  Climate Summit in Belém to send a clear signal to delegates at COP30 that the time has come to bridge the 1.5°C ambition gap.

Carolina Pasquali, Greenpeace COP30 Head of Delegation and Executive Director, Greenpeace Brasil said:

In Belém at COP30, Greenpeace is calling for [1]:

• A Global Response Plan to address the 1.5°C  ambition gap and accelerate emissions reductions in this critical decade
• A new, dedicated 5-year Forest Action Plan to end deforestation by 2030
• Progress on public climate finance from developed countries, including polluter-pays taxation to support mitigation, adaptation and action to address loss and damage in developing countries

Even before the Leaders Summit, however, the EU proposed to cut emissions by 90% including offsets by 2040 compared to 1990, a climate target that falls significantly short of even the minimum that the EU’s own scientific advisers have called for. [2]

Jean-François Julliard, Executive Director, Greenpeace France said:

Dr Oulie Keita, Executive Director, Greenpeace Africa said:

ENDS

Notes:

[1] Media briefing on Greenpeace’s political demands for COP30

[2] Environment ministers botch EU climate targets

Contact

Ibrahima Ka NDOYE, International Communications Coordinator Greenpeace Africa, [email protected] / +221778437172

Source: Amnesty International –

View latest press releases

Source: Amnesty International –

The Tunisian authorities have over the past three years increasingly dismantled protections for refugees, asylum seekers and migrants, particularly Black people, with a dangerous shift towards racist policing and widespread human rights violations that endanger their lives, safety and dignity, Amnesty International said today. The European Union risks complicity by maintaining cooperation on migration control without effective human rights safeguards.

In a new report, ‘Nobody Hears You When You Scream’: Dangerous Shift in Tunisia’s Migration Policy, Amnesty International has documented how, fuelled by racist rhetoric from officials, Tunisian authorities have carried out racially targeted arrests and detentions; reckless interceptions at sea; collective expulsions of tens of thousands of refugees and migrants to Algeria and Libya; and subjected refugees and migrants to torture and other ill-treatment, including rape and other sexual violence, while cracking down on civil society providing critical assistance.  

In June 2024, Tunisian authorities ordered an end to the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) role in processing asylum claims, removing the only avenue for seeking asylum in the country. Yet EU cooperation with Tunisia on migration control has continued without effective human rights safeguards, risking EU complicity in serious violations and trapping more people where their lives and rights are at risk.

“The Tunisian authorities have presided over horrific human rights violations, stoking xenophobia, while dealing blow after blow to refugee protection. They must immediately reverse this devastating rollback by ending racist incitement and stopping collective expulsions that threaten lives. They must protect the right to asylum and ensure that they don’t expel anyone to places where they would be at risk of serious human rights violations. NGO staff and human rights defenders detained for assisting refugees and migrants must be released unconditionally,” said Heba Morayef, Regional Director for the Middle East and North Africa at Amnesty International.

“The EU must urgently suspend any migration and border control assistance aimed at containing people in Tunisia and halt funding to security forces or other entities responsible for human rights violations against refugees and migrants. Instead of prioritizing containment and fuelling violations, EU cooperation with Tunisia must shift its focus to ensuring adequate protection measures and asylum procedures are available in the country, and incorporate clear, enforceable human rights benchmarks and conditions, to avoid complicity in violations.”

Amnesty International conducted research between February 2023 and June 2023 and interviewed 120 refugees and migrants from nearly 20 countries (92 men, 28 women, eight children aged 16–17) in Tunis, Sfax, and Zarzis. The organization also reviewed UN, media, and civil society sources and the official pages of local Tunisian authorities. Ahead of publication, Amnesty shared its findings with Tunisian, European, and Libyan authorities. No response had been received by the time of publication.

Source: Amnesty International –

European governments must act to ensure equal and universal access to abortion care in the face of ongoing restrictions and intensifying efforts to further limit access to abortion across the region, said Amnesty International in a report published today. 

When rights aren’t real for all: The struggle for abortion access in Europe reveals how – despite hard won progress – harmful and dangerous obstacles continue to undermine access to abortion care. This is taking place in the context of increasingly well-resourced anti-rights groups ramping up their efforts to negatively influence policies and laws, often through the spread of fear and disinformation, aimed at further restricting access to abortion.

Hard-won victories on reproductive rights are at serious risk of being reversed by a wave of regressive policies

“The stark reality is that despite significant progress across Europe, abortion access is still restricted by a disturbing array of visible and invisible barriers,” said Amnesty International’s Senior Campaigner on Women’s Rights, Monica Costa Riba. 

“Hard-won victories on reproductive rights are at serious risk of being reversed by a wave of regressive policies promoted by the anti-gender movement and championed by populist political actors deploying authoritarian practices.”  

While law reforms in many European countries – with some notable exceptions – have made abortion more available, numerous administrative, social and practical barriers preventing universal abortion access remain in place. These include medically unjustified requirements which delay access, conscience-based refusals of care, a shortage of trained professionals, gestational time limits and high costs. Marginalized communities, including people with low incomes, adolescents, people with disabilities, LGBTIQ+ people, sex workers, people seeking asylum or with precarious migration status, are disproportionately affected by these obstacles. 

These barriers, combined with various degrees of criminalization, result in further stigmatization, causing delays or even preventing access to essential healthcare. At least 20 countries in the region impose criminal sanctions on pregnant people who have an abortion outside the scope of the law.  

Barriers to abortion 

In addition to gestational time limits and criminalization, there are several key barriers to accessible abortion.  

The cost of accessing abortion can be prohibitive particularly in countries where abortion care on request (when the decision to end a pregnancy rests with the pregnant person) is not included in their health insurance or national health system. This is the case in countries such as Austria, Bulgaria, Croatia, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Germany, Latvia, Montenegro, Romania, Bosnia & Herzegovina, North Macedonia, Kosovo and Serbia.

Several states are failing in their duty to guarantee access to abortion care in contexts of high numbers of conscience-based refusals of services, where healthcare professionals refuse to provide abortions due to personal views or religious beliefs, result in delays or denial of access. In countries such as Italy or Croatia, refusals of this kind are widespread and in Romania they are also on the rise, and in all cases the authorities are not taking the action they are obliged to under international law to mitigate the harms of such high refusal rates and guarantee access to abortion care to those in need.  

At least 12 European countries continue to enforce medically unnecessary mandatory waiting periods before accessing a legal abortion and 13 countries enforce compulsory counselling. Albania, Belgium, Germany, Hungary, Latvia and Portugal require both mandatory waiting periods and compulsory counselling. In Hungary, those seeking an abortion are compelled to listen to the foetal heartbeat. In Türkiye, married women over the age of 18 are legally required to obtain spousal consent to terminate a pregnancy within the 10-week limit.  

Every year, thousands of pregnant people are forced to travel abroad to seek the healthcare they need due to the difficulties they face in accessing abortion care in their countries.  

Attempts to rollback access to abortion 

Attempts to rollback of abortion access across Europe are being led by a well-funded, transnational anti-gender movement comprised of conservative and religious groups and institutions, think tanks, civil society organizations and media influencers.  

In Croatia, the influence of anti-rights politicians in government, combined with a growing alliance between anti-abortion advocates and the Catholic Church, has led to repeated attempts to impose barriers to abortion access. In Slovakia, there have been repeated attempts in parliament to restrict or ban abortion access, while constitutional amendments passed in September 2025 will significantly erode reproductive rights. 

Hungary has introduced new barriers to accessing abortion, contraception and family planning and Italy’s governing party has led legislative initiatives to allow anti-abortion groups and those “supporting motherhood” to access mandatory counselling centres for pregnant people seeking a legal abortion. In these cases, the authorities have justified the measures with arguments including low birth rates or false and racist rhetoric about migrants “replacing” the white “native” population. 

Abortion is essential healthcare and a human right

Aggressive and sometimes violent anti-abortion protests and pickets outside sexual and reproductive health clinics have become an increasing barrier to abortion access. In Poland, an abortion centre set up in Warsaw in March 2025 has faced regular harassment and intimidation by groups protesting outside the building. In Austria, abortion healthcare providers face intimidation, including in front of their clinics, while family planning centres in France and centres providing mandatory counselling in Germany have also been attacked by anti-rights groups.  

“Abortion is essential healthcare and a human right,” said Monica Costa Riba.

“European governments and institutions must act decisively to bring abortion provision in line with international standards by decriminalizing abortion, eliminating existing access barriers and firmly resisting any moves by anti-rights groups to dangerously block people’s access to safe and timely abortion care, putting lives and health at risk”.” 

Background 

The report examines 40 counties and draws on Amnesty International’s research over the last decade, as well as data from reliable sources compiled by other human rights and public health organizations, including the Center for Reproductive Rights (CRR)’s publication “Europe Abortion Laws 2025”, the European Parliamentary Forum for Sexual and Reproductive Rights (EPF)’s ‘European Abortion policy Atlas’ and the World Health Organization (WHO) Global Abortion Policies Database. It also draws on insights from 11 abortion rights activists and sexual and reproductive health and rights organizations interviewed between May and September 2025.