DAR ES SALAAM, Tanzania, Oct 1 2025 (IPS) - The dust was already swirling when Asherly William Hogo lifted himself from a makeshift bed before dawn. The 62-year-old pastoralist, lean from a lifetime of walking these plains, slipped into his sandals and stepped outside. Stars glittered over Dodoma, but the air was warmer than it used to be, Hogo swears. He whistled for his cows. Years ago, this hour meant an arduous trek to distant waterholes.

“Sometimes we’d find only mud,” Hogo recalls.

Today, though, his herd drinks from a solar-powered borehole that hums quietly behind Ng’ambi village. Nearby, a rain-fed reservoir gleams faintly under the moonlight.

“Now we don’t go far like we used to,” he says.

This change is part of a United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) initiative rewriting the story of survival in Tanzania’s drought-hit Dodoma region—while offering a potent message for global negotiators heading to COP30 in Brazil: climate justice is not an abstract slogan. It is a water trough filled close to home, a tree shading a schoolyard, and a beehive buzzing with possibility.

A Land of Extremes

Dodoma’s landscape is a mosaic of brittle acacia trees and windswept soil. Droughts here are not new, but villagers say they have grown harsher and less predictable. The Tanzania Meteorological Agency reports rainfall across the central plateau has declined by 20 percent over the last two decades. When rain does arrive, it often falls in violent bursts that tear through gullies and sweep away topsoil.

In April, parched pastures turned to tinder, and cattle carcasses littered the plains. Then came the deluge: flash floods drowned fields, destroyed homes, and contaminated water sources.

“This year is the biggest wake-up call we have seen in Tanzania in terms of what climate change is doing to rural families,” says Oscar Ivanova, Liaison for Africa, Global Adaptation Network. “We need fast action on mitigation and adaptation. Otherwise, it won’t only be the climate that is breaking down but also the communities themselves.”

For Hogo’s neighbour, 48-year-old farmer and father of five Mikidadi Kilindo, the crisis is grim. “The situation is very scary. The drought kills our crops, and when the rain comes it washes everything away,” he says.

The UNEP-led Adaptation Programme

Launched in 2018 and funded by the Global Environment Facility (GEF) with support from Tanzania’s government, the UNEP-led Ecosystem-based Adaptation for Rural Resilience project has helped thousands of smallholder farmers build resilience to climate change.

Since its launch, the programme has drilled 15 boreholes—12 powered by solar energy—bringing clean water to over 35,000 people, built earthen dams with capacity to trap three million cubic metres of rainwater, planted 350,000 trees to restore 9,000 hectares of degraded forest and rangeland, placed 38,000 hectares under sustainable land management, and trained thousands of farmers, particularly women and youth, in drought-resilient farming and alternative livelihoods.

“When villagers no longer have to fight over a single muddy waterhole, you ease conflicts and give people hope,” says Fredrick Mulinda, a project coordinator with the National Environment Management Council (NEMC). “Most of the conflicts have been settled.”

Water as Justice

Water is an important resource in Dodoma. Women once trekked more than five kilometres with jerry cans on their heads. Children skipped school to fetch water.

“Before, we would leave at sunrise and return at noon,” says Zainabu Mkindu, who grows vegetables near a borehole in her village. “We are very thankful to those who brought this project to us.”

The boreholes are solar-powered, eliminating the need for polluting, costly diesel pumps. Engineers laid underground pipes to protect water lines from vandalism and evaporation. Villagers formed committees to collect small fees for maintenance to ensure sustainability.

Restored reservoirs now double as micro-ecosystems, replenishing groundwater, attracting birds, and even supporting small fish farms.

“We can irrigate without fuel pumps, and now my children eat fish we never had before,” says Hogo.

Healing Communities

Tanzania loses about 400,000 hectares of forest each year—one of Africa’s highest deforestation rates—as impoverished farmers cut trees for charcoal and firewood, intensifying droughts and floods.

UNEP’s project taught villagers to manage tree nurseries and plant drought-tolerant species like baobab, acacia, mango, and orange.

“We plant more trees to create shade and attract rain. The dam became completely silted because farmers cultivated too close,” says Paul Kusolwa, who supervises tree planting at Bahi village.

Globally, UNEP notes that restoring ecosystems can provide up to 30 percent of the climate mitigation needed to meet the Paris Agreement’s 1.5°C target.

Women at the Forefront

In these traditionally patriarchal communities, women have long been confined to domestic chores. But the project deliberately placed women in leadership positions—on borehole committees, tree nursery groups, and even livestock health teams.

Mary Masanja, 34, learned to build fuel-efficient brick stoves, a craft once reserved for men. “I’m happy to be a craftswoman. Women are no longer denied certain jobs because of gender,” she says.

In Bahi, women manage beehives and earn income from honey sales. They also run block farms, rotating through plots of drought-resistant tomatoes, onions, and plantains. The farm supplies markets across Dodoma.

Despite promising projects, uncertainty looms over Dodoma as rising temperatures—forecast to climb 0.2–1.1°C by 2050—threaten crops, livestock, and food security. Warmer conditions fuel pests, disease, and crop.

For villagers like Hogo, the conversation at COP30 may feel distant—but its outcome could decide whether his grandchildren inherit a viable livelihood.

“We don’t need promises,” he says. “We need water, trees, and respect for our knowledge.”

Note: This feature is published with the support of Open Society Foundations.

IPS UN Bureau Report

Excerpt:

Farmers in Tanzania’s drought-hit Dodoma region offer a potent message for negotiators heading to COP30 in Brazil: climate justice is not an abstract slogan. It is a water trough filled close to home, a tree shading a schoolyard, and a beehive buzzing with possibility.