NextGen Solomon Islands

"We were stunned at how quickly the weather changed as our new year celebrations came to a sombre end."

By Timothy Windbreak & Cinderella Sia, 15

On New Year’s Eve 2018, our coastal village was torn apart by a devastating cyclone.

Before it arrived, the sky was crystal clear, the stars were twinkling and the calm ocean didn’t make a sound.

It was a perfect atmosphere for the celebrations; the smell of the roast chicken filled the air as our brothers and sisters drank and danced to music.

It was a truly joyful night until 30 minutes before the big countdown, when the weather suddenly changed.

Dark clouds filled the sky and a strong wind blew hard against our houses.

Huge storm surge waves roared and rolled speedily up the shorelines up into the mainland.

People were scared because many of our homes were made of temporary materials and were old – they would not survive a cyclone.

Waves smashed against the coral reefs and huge rocks from the sea were hurled towards the land, causing rubbish and debris to wash up on the shore.

Coconut trees were uprooted and thrown down, many coastal homes were destroyed.

The sea water and the rain water poured into the low-lying villages.

We were stunned at how quickly the weather changed as our new year celebrations came to a sombre end.

Some people were running around in a panic, carrying their luggage and other necessities to the church building, an evacuation hall for the community.

Others searched for higher grounds but some of us waited in our homes, shivering and scared.

Suddenly, the roof of our house blew off and the walls were damaged by the huge rolling waves, so we fled to the church for cover.

The storm battered our land all night.

On New Year’s morning, we broke cover and found the sea was calm and the winds had dropped, but our beautiful white sandy beach was covered with uprooted corals, dead fish and tree branches.

We lived temporarily with neighbours while we started to clean up and set up a new site to build a new house.

It took three months to rebuild our home, which we feared would be torn down again by the weather.

In response, the chief of the village and our people planted trees along the coastlines to stop flooding and dug wide drains behind the village to allow water to flow slowly to the sea during rainy seasons.

But there is only so much we can do to keep this weather at bay.

We expect weather like this during our rainy season, but in the past 40 years cyclones like these have become more intense and more destructive storms now form more often.

Warming oceans could also drive more dangerous cyclones like these.

We worry because it’s likely they will get bigger and more deadly as time goes by.

That’s why we need to come together and act now, before it’s too late.

"My family and I believe sea level rise contributed to the deaths of my two disabled brothers, who were pulled into the water and drowned."

By Jerma Batzy, 15

With its sandy white beaches and crystal clear waters, the Solomon Islands looks like paradise.

But many of us here have lost our homes and, in my case, even family members because of the climate crisis.

My family and I believe sea level rise contributed to the deaths of my two disabled brothers, who were pulled into the water and drowned.

The sea used to be 50 metres away from our house but as time went on, I could see the water coming closer and closer, until it was eventually right on our doorstep.

My worried parents told us not to go down to where we used to play but in the summer of 2014, my 10-year-old brother Michael, who could not walk properly, was sitting on the sea wall where our grandparents used to read stories to us.

During an exceptionally high-tide, Michael was pulled into the sea and drowned.

Tragically, my six-year-old brother Dona also drowned when he was crawling along the path by the house and was swept into the water by the tide in 2017.

The sea never used to come up so close and now my home is a constant reminder of the loss of my brothers, whose graves are in our garden.

Sometimes during high tides my village in Langa Langa Lagoon, Malaita province, gets covered with sea water.

The root crops and vegetables for our meals get destroyed by the salt water so all we can eat is rice, tinned food, and noodles.

This affects our diet and our overall health.

Our village sits on a man-made island, many of which have been around for centuries, built by our ancestors from rocks on top of shallow reefs.

Some of these islands, like my parents’ and grandparents’ former homes, are now submerged.

In 1986, they had to leave their old home after one of the most deadly cyclones in Solomon Islands history struck.

Now all that remains are a few rocks poking above the water.

After the cyclone, my family set up home on a new island where my brothers, sisters and I used to play safely among the mangrove trees and the coconuts.

Now everywhere I loved as a child is underwater.

I do not feel safe here but there is nowhere else for us to go.

Many families relocate to higher ground, but this causes conflict over land ownership.

Sea level rise in the Solomon Islands is happening at a rate of almost three times the global average, at around 7-10mm per year since 1993.

And while the rising seas cannot be blamed on climate change alone, it provides a window to the rest of the world of what is to come in the next 100 years if we do not take urgent action.

Activities like logging, cutting mangrove trees for firewood and household cooking contribute because they threaten our food security and ecosystems.

But when it comes to global emissions, our country contributes very little compared to the western world and yet we are the ones living with its effects.

Climate change is a global issue which cannot be addressed by an individual nation.

For us it is a daily concern for our lives.

Our people are strong, but the land we live on is vulnerable.

I can only hope my home in paradise will still be here in 50 years time.

"The track to school has completely disappeared. Today, it's just a swamp filled with muddy water. "

By Junior Kevin, 17

There’s one Sunday in October 2012 that I remember clearly. 

That morning, my family and I were going to church. The walk there usually took us a few hours.

The track we walked on was the same one I walked along to school. It took us past our garden, where we grew crops and fruit trees.

On our way, my father was telling us stories of when he was younger. He told us about how he loved walking along this same footpath as a child. 

After worship, my family were standing in front of the church telling stories and making jokes. I was sitting down and watched as the sea slowly rose up.

I turned my head and listened to my relatives laughing. A few minutes later, I saw the sea had completely covered the track.

There was only 30cm between the top of the wall I was standing on and the sea. I was so surprised and confused. My eyes opened wider. 

I quickly ran over to my family to tell them what was happening. They already knew.

The sea levels were rising and the tides were beginning to submerge our islands. 

I kept watching the sea as it continued to rise. We were stranded with no way to get home and I was so scared. Eventually, a boat came to collect us.

Five months later, the track had completely disappeared. Today, the area is just a swamp filled with muddy water.

We can no longer use it as a footpath to walk to church or school. 

I do not know how we can get our footpath back.

I am scared that our island will continue to be submerged as sea levels keep rising.

We do what we can to survive, but we need support from the rest of the world to reduce the impact of climate change.

Soon, it will be too late.