Letter to the Principalities and Powers of COP30

  

It is 2026, and COP30 is taking place in Brazil. The world has once again gathered beneath the tense, watchful skies of climate negotiations. Nearly two hundred nations, along with numerous non-state actors, have converged to confront what has become the planet’s most relentless threat: climate change. My gaze, as always, shifts to Africa, whose voice carries both the weight of loss and the rhythm of resilience. In the halls of COP, the familiar rituals are underway. Countries review their commitments under the Paris Agreement, present new pledges, and wrestle over the core issues of climate action: finance, technology, and justice.

Yet Africa must change the tune this time. The old call for aid must give way to one of partnership and shared purpose. The Global North carries an undeniable moral debt, for its smokestacks and factories have long darkened the skies while Africa has paid the price through droughts, floods, and hunger. But remaining forever at the mercy of sympathy is to relinquish our agency. When the promised funds falter or trickle in too slowly, shall we watch 

My gaze, as always, turns to Africa, whose voice carries both the weight of loss and the rhythm of resilience. In the halls of COP, the rituals are familiar. Nations review their commitments under the Paris Agreement, present new pledges, and wrestle over the lifeblood of climate action: finance, technology, and justice.

Yet Africa must change the music this time. The old tune of pleading for assistance must give way to one of partnership and shared purpose. The Global North bears an undeniable moral debt, for its smokestacks and factories have long clouded the skies while Africa has paid the price in droughts, floods, and hunger. But remaining forever at the table of sympathy is to surrender our agency. When the promised funds falter or trickle too slowly, shall we watch our harvests wither, our rivers drown our homes, and our children inherit a shrinking future? Never.

Climate change is not a theatre of guilt; it is a test of collective survival. Africa must therefore stand before the world not with a bowl, but with a blueprint. Our story is not one of despair but of discovery. From smallholder farmers reading the skies with ancestral precision to innovators powering communities with the sun, Africa is already crafting answers in her own language of resilience. These are not cries for help; they are invitations to invest.

The message for COP30 must be clear: Do not give to Africa; build with Africa. We are not spectators in the global struggle for a sustainable planet. We are architects of the solutions the world so urgently seeks. With vast sunlight, powerful winds, and minerals essential to green technology, and with a population brimming with ideas and ingenuity, Africa stands not at the margins of the conversation but at its heart.

As the discussions in Brazil unfold, Africa leaders! You must speak not as a beggers but as a partners, confident, creative, and ready to co-author a new climate future. The world does not need to rescue Africa. The world needs to join Africa in rescuing itself.