‘Bones floating in the ocean’: Sinking Tuvalu’s future drowning in climate inaction

By Beril Canakci

ISTANBUL (AA) – “If I was buried in Tuvalu, how can my family remember me, because my bones would be floating in the ocean?”

These words from Bernard Kato Ewekia, a young but fiercely dedicated climate activist, reflect the stark reality of more than 11,000 people in Tuvalu, a paradisiacal island nation in the heart of the Pacific Ocean.

Despite all its pristine beauty, the archipelago of nine islands and coral atolls is known more for the existential threat it faces today: Tuvalu is sinking because of climate change.

The island nation, spread over less than 10 square miles and with an average elevation of less than 10 feet above sea level, is slowly disappearing under its surrounding azure waters.

The peril is at a point where Tuvalu is creating a digital replica of itself, backing up everything from its homes and nature to culture in the metaverse.

By current estimates, 50% of Tuvalu’s capital Funafuti – home to half the population – will be lost to rising sea levels by 2050, and 95% of its land will be flooded by routine high tides by the end of the century.

Climate change and all its ills – disrupted rain, storms, cyclones, droughts and other extreme weather – have also battered Tuvalu’s water and food security, energy supply, and other critical infrastructure.

In such precarious times, events such as the recently concluded UN COP29 climate summit hold particular significance for countries like Tuvalu that are bearing the brunt of a crisis created by the world’s wealthy and powerful.

Like many others, Tuvalu’s reaction to the summit’s climate finance pledge – $300 billion annually for developing countries by 2035 – was one of anger and disappointment.

Grace Malie, another youth climate activist who was at COP29 along with Ewekia, said the summit outcomes “fell far too short of the bold actions” needed, adding that Tuvalu and other vulnerable nations were “deeply disappointed.”

Ewekia, speaking to Anadolu from the Azerbaijani capital Baku, was much more direct: “We travel all the way from home for three days … and for what? The main reason we come here is to attack the one main enemy, and that is climate change. This is what COP is for, and nothing is improving.”

- ‘They see what we advocate but I don’t know if they care’

Ewekia’s journey to becoming a climate activist was borne out of necessity. His own dream was just to be a music producer, but seeing his land facing imminent erasure pushed him down another path.

“I had no idea how to be a climate activist. Now, I’m doing this work to make sure that my children … can see Tuvalu, and I can show them where I loved to fish, and what I did as a young boy,” said the 27-year-old, who became Tuvalu’s first-ever youth delegate at a UN climate summit when he attended COP26 in Glasgow in 2021.

He now leads the Saving Tuvalu Global Campaign and works with the Global Center for Climate Mobility to raise awareness about Tuvalu and other island nations threatened by climate change.

It was a documentary filmmaker from the US who first made Ewekia realize that “Tuvalu is on the frontlines of climate change.”

“I didn’t realize how bad it was for us. I saw the sea level rise and the droughts as normal, just how our lives were,” he said.

Over time, as he dove deeper into his new calling, Ewekia became acutely more aware of the risks facing Tuvalu: the droughts are longer, storms more devastating, and parts of the nation have actually been lost to the sea.

“We have more longer period of droughts … We only have six buckets for each family, but in Tuvalu, we would have probably more than 10 people in one household … Sometimes, we (men) have to sacrifice. We don’t shower and make sure that our women and kids are clean, and have enough water to go to work and school,” he said.

“There was a cyclone that hit us which dug up our graveyards and even took some part of the land. Majority of our ancestors’ bones were floating on top of the earth of the island, which was shocking for me to see … If I was buried in Tuvalu, how can my family remember me, because my bones would be floating in the ocean?”

Two islets of the main island have already disappeared, he said, and the “same can happen to my home anytime soon.”

This is what Tuvalu and its people are fighting for and they will not give up despite the world’s failure to take concrete global climate action, he added.

“We’ve been sending a lot of messages to them (international community). We’ve been doing documentaries for the world to see where we are at the moment … They see what we advocate but I don’t know if they care,” said Ewekia.

- ‘Credit to everyone in my nation’

For Tuvalu and its people, nothing could be clearer than the fact that they themselves have to lead the fight for their survival.

“We’re not a people who are about the self, we grew up in communities. We are not just brought up by our parents, we are brought up by the community ... so we do everything together,” said Ewekia.

“In case a storm hits, we won’t wait for an invitation to go in for a project to clean up the place … We’ll just go in there together, plan it, and get it done … So, everyone has been working together and I give credit to everyone in my nation.”

This sense of self-preservation and drive for justice was seen at COP29, where Tuvalu was part of the group of small island states and least-developed nations that staged a dramatic walkout during the negotiations, calling out wealthier countries for failing to secure strong climate finance goals, concrete plans to limit warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius, and adequate support for adaptation and loss and damage.

Despite the operationalization of the Loss and Damage Fund, with over $730 million pledged and funding to begin in 2025, many, including Ewekia, believe the outcomes fell far short of their needs.

“Loss and damage funds have been pledged to help communities like ours to recover and rebuild after climate disaster, but too often these funds come late or not at all,” he said, reading an excerpt from a speech he delivered to world leaders and officials from around the globe.

“We are asking for loss and damage funds not as an act of charity but as a matter of justice. We did not cause the emissions driving this crisis, yet we are asked to bear the cost.”

Tuvalu’s government has been working on various initiatives, including The First Digital Nation project, which aims to create a digital copy of the sinking island, and others focused on land reclamation and improving water and food security.

Tuvalu has also struck a landmark deal with Australia – the world’s first legally binding climate migration agreement – that opens the way for its citizens to relocate Down Under. The agreement, known as the Falepili Union, was signed in November 2023 and took effect in August this year, while the aim is to open a “special mobility pathway” for Tuvaluans by mid-2025.

With the community’s involvement and the drive of young activists such as Ewekia, Tuvalu is far from giving up on what many would see as an impossibly bleak future.

In a social media post after COP29, Ewekia hailed his fellow young activists, saying “your passion inspires me to rise and stand strong for my country.”

“To my family and the people of Tuvalu, you are true warriors. We have endured countless tides and waves, yet we continue to stand tall. Your strength fuels my fight,” he wrote on Instagram.

“While the outcome of COP29 is deeply disappointing, it does not mean we are giving up. As long as God grants me the years I live, I will continue this fight.”