One afternoon earlier this year, Mridula collapsed on the floor of the Dhaka garment factory where she works, overcome by dizziness in the heat. The 20-year-old sewing operator, who works at a factory in Mirpur, northwest Dhaka, said summer heat often leaves her restless and “physically uncomfortable.” “The heat can be very difficult to tolerate,” said Mridula, a pseudonym. Co-workers with high blood pressure seem to struggle even more during the hotter months, she has noticed. After she collapsed, she was taken to the factory’s medical room. She said the doctor told her to rest, then sent her home. “He gave me leave from work,” she said. Mridula was eventually diagnosed with jaundice, which can be exacerbated by dehydration and physical exertion. As temperatures climb, heat is becoming a serious concern for Bangladesh’s garment industry. Dhaka’s summers are setting new records. On April 15, 2023, the city reached 40.6°Celsius (105° Fahrenheit), then its highest temperature in decades, according to World Weather Attribution. Then, the following year, the country sweltered through a heat wave that lasted 30 days without a break. A 2025 report by the World Bank shows that Bangladesh’s maximum temperature has risen about 1.1°C (about 2°F) since 1980. Meanwhile, researchers are increasingly concerned about the health and economic consequences of rising temperatures, particularly for workers exposed to prolonged heat. For Bangladesh’s 4.2 million garment workers, approximately 60% of whom are women, who work indoors, rising temperatures raise urgent questions about occupational health and workplace safety. Factory workers operate…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Anna Fatuma is a 31-year-old woman who runs a kibandaski in Tumboni village, Kitui county in eastern Kenya. Kibandaski is Kenyan urban slang for an affordable, open-air urban eatery, often a small shack made of iron sheets, 3-ply wood or canvas. They are popular with low-income customers. Inside, smoke from firewood beneath simmering pots hangs in the air, while dark stains from settled soot mark the walls around cooking areas. The heat from the food, the smoke and the cramped space make the kibandaski humid and uncomfortable. Fatuma’s kibandaski is one of these small roadside eateries. She opens every day at 6 a.m., cooking and serving meals until about 8:30 p.m. The most expensive meal on her menu costs 250 Kenyan shillings, about $2. She started the business in 2024, hoping it would improve her financial situation and that of her husband, Sam. “Cooking gas is expensive. I can’t afford to buy and use it here,” she says. “Kuni, firewood is easier to find and cheaper to use. Charcoal is my preferred option, though it is expensive.” Fatuma often collects the firewood herself. The work leaves her with a persistent backache. On some days, she pays someone to collect it so she can arrive early enough to open the “hotel,” as she calls it. “Kamgongo kanauma. My back aches,” she says. “Paying someone to collect firewood isn’t ideal, but sometimes I am forced to. It’s also to make sure I open the hotel early.” Her routine might seem far removed…This article was originally published on Mongabay

PITHORAGARH, Uttarakhand, India — The world comes alive during summers in Himalayan states like Uttarakhand. The forests are budding with new green leaves, and almost every trail is lined on both sides with flowers of many shapes, sizes and colors. With the flora, fauna comes to life as well. Saraswati Devi, 80, sits in her courtyard with bees buzzing in and out of the wall hive where the colony lives in her home. “Bees are considered so sacred and an important part of people’s lives that we have faag songs about them,” Saraswati says. Faag are traditional songs sung at joyous and auspicious occasions like weddings and festivals in the Kumaon region of Uttarakhand. She and her fellow women hum a melody that Saraswati sang at weddings. Bees come to those homes where children play; But at homes with no children, the bees won’t stay. For centuries here, people’s lives have been intertwined with the bees, creating a unique interdependence. In rural Uttarakhand, many households share their homes with an indigenous species, Apis cerana indica, commonly known as the Indian honey bee or Himalayan honey bee. However, factors like climate change, introduction of new bee species for more honey production, habitat fragmentation and inadequate nutrition are among the reasons for a decline in their population. As rearing bees is a natural part of household duties, women’s role becomes central in the conservation of this species. Saraswati Devi, along with her family, standing beneath the opening of the wall hive, with…This article was originally published on Mongabay

For generations, Kashmir’s wetlands, lakes and rivers have been woven into the landscape around its towns and villages. Paddy fields once stretched across parts of the valley, while canals and springs were familiar features of everyday life. But much of that landscape has changed. A new study published in Water Science assessing six decades of land use and land cover change in the union territory of Jammu and Kashmir in the northernmost part of India finds that the extent of water bodies declined between 1960 and 2020, while built-up areas expanded markedly, particularly after the 1990s. The researchers found that socioeconomic factors including urbanization, population growth, literacy, per capita income and passenger and freight traffic were more strongly associated with many of these changes than the climatic variables they examined, including annual precipitation and mean maximum and minimum temperatures. The findings raise a broader question for Jammu and Kashmir: As development continues to reshape the landscape, are conservation initiatives and land use planning keeping pace with the pressures on the region’s water bodies? The authors caution that the study is not based on primary field surveys. Because land use records were available mainly at decadal intervals, the researchers interpolated data between those years to create an annual data set for their statistical analysis. They acknowledge that this approach can inflate some statistical measures and say the results should be interpreted primarily as associations rather than precise predictions. Still, the broad direction of change is clear. The sun peeks through a…This article was originally published on Mongabay

When climate-related hazards like floods, storms, extreme heat and landslides strike, roads can become impassable, homes unsafe and communities begin looking for ways to escape. But for persons with disabilities, the danger can be greater. An inaccessible route can become an impassable barrier. A warning delivered only through sound can leave a deaf person uninformed, while a shelter without accessible toilets, adequate space or support can turn a place of safety into another barrier. A new study from Kerala, India, shows how climate-related disasters can expose these barriers and deepen inequalities faced by persons with disabilities. The study, published in Global Environmental Change, examines how people with disabilities experience and respond to climate change. Researchers conducted 72 semi-structured interviews with persons with disabilities, caregivers and institutional stakeholders between February 2023 and June 2024. Although the research centered on Kerala, it offers insights that can extend to sub-Saharan Africa and possibly beyond. Katherine Lofts, the study’s lead author and a doctoral researcher at McGill University in Canada, told Mongabay that the team wanted to understand lived experiences of disability in the climate crisis and examine what increases or reduces vulnerability during climate-related disasters. The research found that policies do not automatically remove barriers on the ground. National Disaster Response Force personnel help move flood victims to safer areas in Kerala, India. A new study examines the challenges that people with disabilities face in Kerala when climate-related hazards arise. Image courtesy of the National Disaster Response Force via AP Photo. The study…This article was originally published on Mongabay

In the village forests of Uttarakhand, in the Himalayan region of northern India, a tree can be charred at its base while maintaining a green canopy at its peak. The distinct separation between burnt and unburnt wood is a physical marker of how high the flames reached. For the local women who rely on these woods for survival, the aftermath of wildfire means their daily chores take twice as long, forcing them deeper into the forest just to gather basic fodder and firewood when those closer to home are unusable. Uttarakhand is the most fire-prone state in the Indian Western Himalayas, with increased fire incidence in the region coinciding with high-altitude warming that exceeds the global rate. Beyond individual fire events, the fire season itself is expanding. While the season usually lasts for about 12 weeks starting in mid-March, Uttarakhand now experiences winter fires, an alarming shift from what was previously snow season, hinting at a deeper ecosystem-level impact. This trend has only escalated, with the state recording a sharp spike in forest fire activity during the first four months of 2026. This period is not just witnessed but experienced through each of the human senses. Trails of grey smoke engulf the bright blue sky. Along with the fog-like situation, the air carries soot, sometimes covering the roofs of houses with snow-like ash. “We are all coughing our lungs out; during that time, our eyes are bloodshot, irritated by all the smoke, and it’s hard to breathe in the thick…This article was originally published on Mongabay

The Mojave Desert may look like a flat, brown stretch of nothing between Los Angeles and Las Vegas. But threading through its rocky mountain ranges is an intricate network of wildlife movement that has sustained desert species for thousands of years. Now, scientists and advocates say a solar project approved by the state of California threatens to sever it. In April, the California Energy Commission, the state agency that oversees energy infrastructure, voted 4-0 to approve a $700 million, 1,080-hectare (2,670-acre) solar facility proposed by New Jersey-based developer VC Renewables on federal land adjacent to the Mojave National Preserve. The preserve, spanning more than 1.6 million acres, is one of the largest in the U.S. National Park System and is located in Southern California. The project, known as Soda Mountain Solar, sits in the migration corridor that desert bighorn sheep (Ovis canadensis nelsoni) use to move between mountain ranges. This large solar array would also obstruct desert tortoise (Gopherus agassizii) habitat, which has already undergone significant loss due to climate change and land developments. The energy commission’s environmental review found the project would cause significant and unavoidable harm to wildlife. Scientists and conservation advocates say the approval threatens one of the last intact desert ecosystems in California. But the commission’s final order memo states that ecological mitigation incorporated into the solar project would reduce the impacts on desert wildlife to “less than significant” and that the commission expects the project will bring more renewable energy to the state. Scientists and…This article was originally published on Mongabay

In Limpopo province, in the far north of South Africa, where much of the population lives in rural areas, environmental conservation is often not considered very often. Instead, the residents spend much of their time trying to make a living either from the forestry around them or from fishing in the Mutale and Limpopo rivers. But for Mutale resident Tshilidzi Mulugana, degradation of the local environment is a concern, as it will affect the community and endanger biodiversity. Mulugana is the founder of the Niani Youth Development organization whose mission is to educate local youth. He wants to make a change in the community, to help residents conserve the environment. Mulugana is afraid the next generation may not live to know indigenous tree species — yet these trees serve as traditional medicine. He noted several threats to indigenous species such as baobab (Adansonia genus), leadwood (Combretum imberbe), mopani (Colophospermum mopane) and marula (Sclerocarya birrea): recurring floods, the movement of elephant herds from neighboring Zimbabwe or Mozambique through the area, and traders who cut the trees to sell as firewood. In 2019, Mulugana began a grassroots conservation initiative focused on planting indigenous trees. One day, an official from Kruger National Park (KNP) — a walkable distance from where he lives — came across Mulugana, attracted to his project. The official later invited a representative from the forestry and fisheries department, and in 2024, the two groups funded the project. Mulugana also hoped to recruit community members to help with the work,…This article was originally published on Mongabay

For generations, the Kahoon Valley in Pakistan’s Chakwal district in northwestern Punjab has thrived as a rich ecological haven. Its fertile soil has yielded lush, historical loquat orchards, while the surrounding scrub forests have provided vital refuge to diverse wildlife, including local peacock populations and rare mountain deer species. At the center of this landscape sit the Katas Raj Temples, an ancient Hindu pilgrimage site anchoring the region’s profound spiritual heritage. However, the unchecked expansion of mega cement factories in the early 2000s transformed this natural sanctuary into a toxic industrial zone. Relentless industrial pumping reportedly caused the water table to crash from 36 meters (120 feet) to 122 m (402 ft). This extreme depletion withered the famous loquat trees and displaced native birds, also draining the sacred Katas Raj pond. Determined to save his homeland from erasure, Raja Waseem Ahmed, an environmental activist, brought together residents from neighboring villages to establish the Kahoon Protection Committee to defend the Kahoon Valley against the extreme ecological and social damages caused by heavy industrialization. Waseem utilized environmental legislation and led a forensic legal campaign that exposed the manipulated environmental approval documents eventually driving the Supreme Court of Pakistan to intervene on its own accord, resulting in a historic verdict that banned factories from draining local groundwater and slapped the industry with huge fines. In retaliation for his activism, Waseem was struck by unjustified anti-terrorism lawsuits, temporarily exiled from his native district by local authorities, and subjected to stress so harsh that it…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Myanmar experienced a military coup in February 2021. In the aftermath, widespread repression by the military regime fueled the emergence of armed resistance movements across the country, pushing an ongoing conflict to its most intense level in decades. Starting from 2024, the military’s conscription law has further threatened the lives and futures of young people, forcing thousands to leave the country. Meanwhile, environmental degradation continues to worsen. People are facing multiple crises, including environmental destruction caused by the overexploitation of natural resources, natural disasters, armed conflict, and human rights violations by the military regime. The democratic freedoms that used to exist during the five years of semi-civilian government before the coup have disappeared. Within this context, environmental activism and conservation efforts have widely faded. Yet, against this backdrop, the environmental group Clean Mountains was established in 2024 and is based in the conflict-affected states of Karenni (Kayah) and Karen (Kayin), areas controlled by resistance forces. The organization — funded through grants and donations — is a small, women-led team of four members between the ages of 22 and 28. The group’s founder, Ou Ou, 27, leads Clean Mountains in implementing community-based conservation in conflict-affected mountainous regions, focusing on waste management, water conservation, sustainable agriculture and forest conservation. Ou Ou, founder of Clean Mountains, attends an awareness session on waste management in Bago region, 2025. Image courtesy of Clean Mountains. Through both her previous organization and Clean Mountains, waste management systems have been established in more than 130 villages, including 15…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Malasen Hamida, a Nubian Muslim woman from Kibera, in Nairobi, is an aspiring politician and an environmental activist with more than 25 years of advocacy behind her. Kibera, which was named by Nubians, meaning “land of forests,” is Kenya’s largest informal settlement and sits on land that the British colonial government allocated to the Nubian community after their forebears served as soldiers in the King’s African Rifles. That allocation once covered 1,698 hectares (4,197 acres). Today, due to urbanization, forced evictions, land-grabbing and successive government projects, only 116 hectares (288 acres) remain under Nubian ownership, with no compensation ever offered. Through the Mazingira Women Initiative, Hamida has spent those years organizing around waste management, smart farming, land rights and women’s leadership. (“Mazingira” is a Swahili word for environment or nature.) She is also a three-time parliamentary candidate for the Kibera constituency and intends to run again in 2027. Hamida spoke with Mongabay on a cold Saturday afternoon, just as she was leaving the largest mosque in Kibera constituency. Her offices are a short walk away. As we moved toward them, several people stopped to greet her. She responded to each, “salaam aleikum,” paused to chat, and cupped a small girl’s face in her hands. She led me through a corrugated iron gate into a quiet compound of mud-walled, iron-roofed houses. The area was noticeably clean, with no stagnant water or litter in sight, unlike the typical sight in Kibera. We settled on the veranda of her home. Malasen Hamida addresses…This article was originally published on Mongabay

The East African Crude Oil Pipeline (EACOP), which stretches from oil fields in Uganda’s Lake Albert region to Tanzania’s port town of Tanga, is once again under scrutiny after a new report mapped out the biodiversity areas and wildlife habitats it runs through or passes by. Drawing data from maps and economic value estimates, the report by U.S.-based NGO Earth Insight shows that the 1,443-kilometer (990-mile) pipeline is close to areas that are important for livelihoods and water security for millions of people and serve as migration corridors for animals. The report concludes that the construction of the pipeline has already disturbed communities and the environment and that oil transportation will bring further long-term risks. EACOP is a joint project involving TotalEnergies (62% stake), the governments of Uganda (15%) and Tanzania (15%), and the China National Offshore Oil Corporation (CNOOC, 8%). EACOP will carry oil extracted from two oilfields in the Lake Albert region: Kingfisher, owned by CNOOC, and Tilenga, owned by TotalEnergies. According to Earth Insight, the project is nearing completion. Oil transportation through the pipeline is expected to start as early as October 2026. Construction of the East Africa Crude Oil Pipeline (EACOP) in Uganda. Image courtesy of Thomas Lewton. “It crosses right through endangered species ranges, the most important and critical one being the black rhino habitat range,” Earth Insight’s Katie Boston, the study’s main researcher, told Mongabay on the phone. She added that the pipeline could cause habitat fragmentation in the Kibale/Bukoora River Crossing area, where…This article was originally published on Mongabay