Editors Note: This is an extract from the Published Resource material developed by the AACJ year 5 Advocates in commemoration of the 2025 Biodiversity day.
In the quiet fishing village of Okoroma, Bayelsa State, Mama Florence begins her day before sunrise. A seasoned fish processor and mother of six, she has spent decades harvesting shellfish and drying fish for the local market. But today, the fish are harder to find, the water is murkier, and her daughters walk farther each morning for clean water.
Source: Mongabay: Niger Delta mangroves in ‘grave danger’ from oil spills, logging and invasive species
“The mangroves that protected our village are dying, and so is our way of life,” she says.
Her story echoes across Nigeria’s coastal belt—from the crowded markets of Lagos Lagoon to the creeks of Rivers State. Our mangroves, wetlands, and seagrass beds—natural shields that once protected communities—are rapidly disappearing. Nigeria loses over 400,000 hectares of forest each year, much of it in coastal zones. In the Niger Delta alone, nearly 37% of mangroves were lost between 1986 and 2007, devastated by oil spills, sand mining, and unregulated development.
These coastal ecosystems are not just scenic landscapes. They are vital to climate resilience—absorbing carbon, filtering water, shielding communities from flooding, and providing food, income, and traditional medicine. The Niger Delta holds Africa’s largest mangrove forest, a natural defense against erosion and extreme weather. But as these ecosystems collapse, so do livelihoods—especially for women and girls.
For women in riverine communities, the loss of biodiversity is more than environmental—it’s personal and economic. They are custodians of traditional knowledge: when to fish, where to find medicinal plants, and how to protect riverbanks. As mangroves vanish and rivers are poisoned, women spend more time fetching water or buying food they once gathered freely. The impact ripples across generations.
source: One earth (Niger Delta Swamps)
“Papa spends most of his time fishing, but now he returns with dead fish. Business is slow. Because we are more than five, and things are hard, I was asked to stay home from school so my younger siblings can continue. I’m afraid they might stop too.” —Nse, 14
When girls are pulled from school to fetch water or help their families cope, environmental degradation feeds gender inequality. The crisis is not just ecological—it’s educational, economic, and deeply social.
Still, across Nigeria, women and young people are taking action. In Lagos, youth collectives are organizing shoreline cleanups and using digital tools to report environmental violations. In Akwa Ibom, traditional fishers collaborate with conservationists to create no-catch zones, giving fish stocks a chance to recover. In Anambra, women are involved in every stage of aquaculture—from pond management to fish marketing—restoring ecosystems and supporting their families.
Source: One Earth; Six projects
Education as a Vaccine (EVA) is helping build this momentum. Through the Young-Women Led Climate Justice Advocates program, EVA connects young environmental leaders across Nigeria, equipping them with tools and platforms to advocate for change in their local communities. In Lafia, EVA has also supported women with disabilities to explore sack farming, a climate-resilient method of growing food in urban spaces—demonstrating how environmental solutions can also be inclusive and empowering.
Other grassroots organizations are making waves too. In Rivers State, the Lokiaka Community Development Centre has trained over 250 women and girls in mangrove restoration—planting more than one million mangroves to date. These interventions blend traditional knowledge with community action and are restoring ecosystems one tree at a time.
If we are to halt biodiversity loss and restore ecosystem balance, we must move beyond token gestures and ceremonial awareness days. Real solutions require community ownership, strong local institutions, and a gendered lens on environmental governance. Biodiversity protection must become a community priority and a national agenda and here are some key recommendations for restoration:
- Strengthen and enforce environmental regulations against destructive practices like illegal logging, chemical fishing, and oil pollution especially in high-risk coastal areas.
- Fund and scale up women-led conservation initiatives, including mangrove replanting, ecological monitoring, and sustainable aquaculture.
- Embed environmental education in public school curricula, prioritizing coastal communities and integrating gender-aware ecological literacy.
- Invest in decentralized waste management systems to reduce pollution in lagoons, creeks, and river deltas.
- Create incentives for climate-resilient livelihoods such as eco-tourism, seaweed farming, or sustainable fisheries that reduce pressure on biodiversity while improving household incomes.
- Institutionalize community-based ecological monitoring, where locals especially women are trained and empowered to track ecosystem health and report violations.
These are not theoretical solutions. In Cross River State, mangrove restoration is showing measurable regrowth. In Rivers, women-led aquaculture cooperatives are creating income and restoring biodiversity. Small-scale today, but full of potential for national impact.
If Mama Florence is to thrive again, if Nse is to return to school, if our coastal cities are to survive climate change—we must act. Not with half-measures, but with inclusion, vision, and courage.
Nature doesn’t need us to save it. We need to save nature to secure ourselves.
