We Should All Be Climate Change Activists

In Tuna, Savannah region- Ghana, Auntie Maggie wipes sweat from her brow as she tends to her withering maize field in the middle of July. The temperature reads 43°C (109°F) – a number that would have been unthinkable just two decades ago. Her grandmother's farming wisdom, passed down through generations, no longer applies in this modern or should I say 'contemporary' climate reality. "The rain used to come in April," she says, "Now we don't know if it will come at all."

Drawing inspiration from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's essay "We Should All Be Feminists," I argue that climate activism isn't a choice for a selected few, it's a necessity for our survival. Just as Adichie explains that feminism isn't about angry women who hate men but about creating a fairer world, climate activism isn't about tree-hugging extremists who oppose progress or a global trend that everyone has to hop on. It's about ensuring that our children and grandchildren inherit a livable planet.

The reality of climate change hits particularly hard in the Northern parts of Ghana. The Ghana Meteorological Agency reports that average temperatures in the region have risen by 1.5°C since 1960, with the Upper East Region experiencing the most severe changes. The once-predictable harmattan winds now bring extended droughts, turning fertile farmland into dust. In Bolgatanga, where ancient baobab trees once thrived, farmers now struggle to grow even the most resilient crops.

Consider the story of the Tongo Hills community, where for centuries, families have relied on traditional weather patterns to plan their farming calendar. Today, erratic rainfall and intense heat waves have disrupted these age-old practices. The Ghana Statistical Service reports that crop yields in the Northern Region have declined by 30% in the past decade due to climate change, pushing more families into food insecurity.

The parallel with Adichie's feminist argument is striking. Just as she points out that gender inequality affects everyone, not just women, climate change impacts us all, regardless of our belief in it or unbelief.

*** When the Gambaga escarpment's trees disappear, when the White Volta runs dry, when the last breath of clean air becomes a luxury, we won't be able to eat money or breathe industrial progress.***
Dorcas Kongwie

In Walewale and most parts of northern region, plastic waste chokes the seasonal streams that local communities depend on for irrigation.

• National Plastic Waste Generation: Ghana produces approximately 840,000 tonnes of plastic waste annually, equating to about 2,301 tonnes daily nationwide.audit.gov.gh
• Recycling Rates: Only about 9.5% of this plastic waste is collected for recycling, leaving the majority improperly disposed of.

The ripple effects are devastating. In the Upper West Region, the Ghana Health Service reports a 40% increase in respiratory diseases during the peak of the dry season, primarily affecting children and the elderly. Traditional water sources like the Kulpawn River, which once served multiple communities year-round, now run dry for months, forcing women and girls to walk increasingly longer distances for water.

Just as Adichie writes about how we teach girls to shrink themselves, we've been taught to accept environmental degradation as the cost of development. But projects like Plant for the Planet and Green Ghana project refuse to shrink. They've started a community tree-planting initiative, combining traditional knowledge with climate activism. Using drought-resistant native species like neem and moringa, they've created green belts that protect their communities from the harsh Saharan winds while providing nutritional and medicinal benefits.

The solution lies not in perfection but in action. In Tamale, the Savannah Fruit Company has partnered with local women's groups to plant 10,000 shea trees annually, combining economic empowerment with environmental protection. Each tree planted is a statement of hope, a declaration that we refuse to accept the desertification of our homeland as inevitable.

Being a climate activist means understanding that when we fight for environmental justice, we're fighting for survival itself. When temperatures in Navrongo soar to record highs, when the Mole National Park's elephants struggle to find water, when ancient farming communities are forced to migrate south – these aren't just environmental issues. They're human rights issues, economic issues, survival issues.

The time for passive concern has passed. Whether we accept it or not, we are all climate activists now, either through our actions or our inaction. The question is not whether we should be climate activists, but what kind of legacy we want to leave for the children of the savannah. Will they inherit a desert, or will they know the shade of a shea tree? Will they experience the joy of the first rains, or will they only hear stories of how the land once bloomed?

As the sun sets over the Savanna, Auntie Maggie plants another tree with her granddaughters . "We plant not just for ourselves," she says, "but for all the children who will come after us." In this simple act of defiance against desertification, she embodies the spirit of climate activism that we must all embrace.

I will end with a movie recommendation "The Lorax"