(In Swahili: Hello.)
Greetings from the heart of Maasai land. My name is Dorcas Naishorua and I'm honored to be here today, not only as the first Miss Climate in the world, but also a daughter of the savanna, hailing from the vast plains of Kajiado County, Kenya.
I bring with me a story of resilience, one shaped by the changing patterns of our land and the challenges we face in a world grappling with climate change.
Imagine waking up to the symphony of the savanna, the gentle mooing of cattle, the vibrant calls of birds and the graceful sway of the golden grass and the aesthetic sounds from the beautifully beaded clothing. This is the melody of my life, deeply intertwined with the well-being of our environment.
Cattle are not only our companions, but also our livelihoods. As the Maasai community, we rely on our cows not just for income or to keep our children in school, but also for sustenance as they form the foundation of our meals and provide the fuel that keeps our families going.
However, this melody is changing. We are witnessing longer droughts and unreliable rains. The signs of climate change are becoming increasingly evident. The land that once sustained us now thirsts.
The struggle for limited resources, particularly food and water, pushes us into dangerous encounters with wildlife and other people as we fight for survival. It's a competition where the very ground beneath our feet seems to shift.
This is not just about food insecurity. It's about the erosion of our way of life.
Let me provide a clearer picture of our daily lives. After milking the cows, the sale of the milk brings in a modest income, allowing us to purchase essentials and have our children go to school. At home, a simple meal of milk and ugali, a staple food, sustains us.
However, this routine is often disrupted. The dry season presents a different reality. The once vibrant plains transform into graveyards for cattle, with their skulls serving as a haunting reminder of the harshness of climate change. Our crops wither, leaving families with empty stomachs and schools with empty classrooms.
The impact extends beyond hunger. Girls, already vulnerable, are forced to walk for long distances in search of water, and this leads to increased health risks and also compromises their safety. Girls in particular bear the brunt of this harsh reality. Education is often sacrificed as families strive to make ends meet.
In desperate attempts to survive, unimaginable things happen. Girls are traded for grass. What goes beyond this harsh reality is the rite of passage from childhood to adulthood, which involves a painful circumcision known as female genital mutilation, followed by early marriage. Girls are exchanged for grass to feed the remaining livestock, to sustain the family for some time and see them live miserably for what they didn't choose.
This desperate measure highlights the depths of our struggle, where girls are married off for as little as 100 bales of grass to sustain the cattle for some time in times of drought. Livestock have been our sole source of income.
Now, due to the actions of others, our way of life must change. This is happening in many other pastoral communities as well. Whether it's adapting to climate change or defending against attempts to seize their land.
However, we, the Maasai, are not people who surrender. We are people who adapt. We are planting trees alongside our crops to create a shield against the scorching sun and to provide additional food and herbal medicine. We are transforming unused land into community ranches for beekeeping, and we are dividing our land into paddocks to secure enough pasture for our livestock.
These efforts aim to embrace a more sustainable form of pastoralism, enabling us to better withstand the extreme dry seasons while also utilizing our land for agriculture.
Renewable energy projects, such as solar power, are also taking root. They allow us to produce water for nurturing tree seedlings and contribute to combating climate change. Renewable energy also helps us produce and store food more efficiently, reducing waste and safeguarding our livelihoods.
Education is also crucial, and empowering our communities with knowledge and skills to adapt to climate change is key to long-term resilience. By fostering climate resilience, livelihoods and diversifying our sources of income, we can provide alternatives during times of hardships.
We are learning, we are evolving and embracing innovation to rewrite the narrative of our struggle. But we cannot walk this journey alone. We need both international and local support, collaborating with organizations that understand our unique challenges and respect our Indigenous knowledge. We require policies that recognize and protect our land rights, as secure land is the foundation of our food security. Additionally, early-warning systems for extreme weather will assist us in preparing and responding to climate-related disasters, ensuring the stability of our food supply.
As we work towards nourishing 10 billion people, that I believe we can while restoring the Earth, we must prioritize sustainability, equity and respect for the environment. From the heart of the Kenyan savanna, I urge you, let us not only nourish our bodies, but also nurture the spirit of resilience, the power of community and the unwavering hope for a sustainable future.
Together, we can rewrite the ending of this story, where the Maasai girl not only survives but thrives. Her laughter echoing across the plains, a testament to the enduring spirit of our land.
Thank you.
