The Aberdare ecosystem showing gradual conversion of land from forestry into agriculture and other related human activities.
Today, August 9th, we mark the International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples, a day that holds deep personal meaning for me.
Over the years, I have come to truly value the relationship Indigenous Peoples have with the earth, especially forests: their lives, livelihoods, identities and cultures are interwoven into a relationship grounded in reverence, responsibility, and profound ancestral knowledge.
This relationship is also upheld by many Local Communities who live where forests are found.
Globally, Indigenous Peoples number approximately 476 million and hold tenure rights to nearly a quarter of the world’s land surface.
These territories contain more than half of the planet’s remaining intact forests, store close to 38 billion tons of carbon, and are crucial havens for biodiversity.
Research continues to affirm what many have known for generations: where IPLCs manage forests, lands, water bodies and other natural resources, these very resources continue to thrive.
Yet despite this essential stewardship, IPLCs continue to be stripped of the agency over their natural resources, support structures, the income they generate, and excluded from the decisions that shape their lands and lives. Many still fight for legal recognition.
Others face threats from extractive industries, deforestation, and climate impacts. Although Indigenous Peoples represent just five per cent of the global population, they make up nearly 20 per cent of those living in extreme poverty.
Between 2011 and 2020, less than one per cent of international climate finance reached Indigenous Peoples and Local Communities. These numbers are simply unsustainable.
This year, the United Nations has chosen to spotlight Indigenous youth as agents of change for self-determination. It is a powerful and timely theme.
Around the world, Indigenous youth are not waiting to be included, they are stepping forward, raising their voices, and leading efforts to protect biodiversity, defend ancestral lands, and shape a more just and regenerative future.
Just days ago, during a gathering of Indigenous women in Kenya, convened by the remarkable Jane Meriwas, Executive Director of the Samburu Women Trust, the spirit of leadership was on full display.
Though I did not attend personally, a colleague shared reflections from the meeting that deeply moved me.
One young woman spoke of the urgent need to be heard on their own terms: “We need space to co-create, to invest in our dignity, our knowledge, and our power.” Nuria, from northern Kenya, recounted how she had run for office three times, each time met with systemic resistance.
The conversation was clearly rich with wisdom and clarity. The women emphasised that flexible, responsive funding is not optional, it is essential for their safety, their organising, and their ability to respond to crises on the ground.
A funder in the room offered a rare and welcome admission: “The burden of supporting Indigenous Peoples and Local Communities must fall on us. We need more flexible funding, less reporting, and more trust.”
They spoke of the need to innovate, not only in what we fund, but in how we listen, learn, and measure impact. Storytelling, mobile videos, and community-led networks were suggested as ways to build visibility without forcing communities into systems designed far from their realities.
These reflections echo what I have heard time and again through the Community-Led Forest Economies (CLFE) Movement: a global coalition committed to re-imagining forest conservation through the lens of justice, dignity, and local leadership.
At the heart of CLFE is a simple truth: when communities thrive, forests thrive.
What inspires me most about CLFE is its holistic vision. This is about shifting power: supporting communities to secure their land rights, govern their resources, and shape their own economic pathways. It means investing in forest enterprises that are rooted in local knowledge and values.
And it means lifting up these stories so they can influence how global systems, from markets to multilateral finance, respond to the climate crisis.
For this movement to succeed, trust must be at its core. The women in the 10th Anniversary of the Indigenous Women’s Council gathering reminded us that accountability should not come at the cost of dignity.
True partnership means believing in those who have proven themselves to be the most effective guardians and stewards of nature and giving them the resources and freedom to lead.
The urgency is clear. New data from WRI’s Global Forest Watch shows that the world’s forest carbon sink has shrunk to its lowest point in two decades. We are running out of time. But we are not out of solutions.
The wisdom, strength, and leadership of IPLCs, especially young people and women, offer us a path forward. Today, as we honour Indigenous Peoples and local communities across the globe, let us move beyond symbolic recognition and into the realm of transformative action.
Let us invest in their resilience, their vision, their leadership, their knowledge systems, and their sovereign rights. Because when communities thrive, forests will flourish.
Ms Mathai is the MD for Africa & Global Partnerships at the World Resources Institute and Chair of the Wangari Maathai Foundation
