Part One: This Is Not the Childhood We Promised

Noor Ur Rehman

JLI South Asia Regional Coordinator

The core research team in Sri Lanka. From left to right: Prof Jayeel Cornelio, Prof emer. Kaling Tudor Silva, Dr Jennifer Philippa Eggert, Dr Kathryn Kraft, Prof Emma Tomalin, Dr Theo Mbazumutima

“And do not let hatred of a people prevent you from being just. Be just; that is nearer to righteousness.” -Qur’an 5:8

Just days ago, I came across the devastating news of five children who lost their lives in flash floods in Swat Valley, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa[1] . As a child rights activist and a humanitarian worker, I still remember the trembling voice of a mother clutching a soaked shawl to her chest, her daughter’s only remaining belonging.

We stood together on the cracked, muddy ground of a flood shelter in Sindh province in Pakistan during the 2022 flood response, days after the waters had swallowed her home. One of her daughters had been swept away by the current. The other lay beside her, burning with malaria, weak, and shivering. There were no walls, no bed, no schoolbag, and no future she could see. Just grief, and questions. I have witnessed many crises, but that moment tore something inside me. It was not just about displacement or disaster; it was about a childhood that simply ceased to exist.

That mother was asking the world not to forget her child. And I still ask myself: what more could we have done?

This was a piercing reminder of an uncomfortable truth: the climate crisis is, at its core, a child rights crisis.

Across the region, it is clear that faith must rise here, not only as belief, but an action rooted in justice, compassion, and community.

Climate Crisis: A Child’s Catastrophe in South Asia

According to UNICEF, 43 million children were displaced by extreme weather between 2016 and 2021, a number expected to rise to 113 million by 2050[2]. South Asia, home to over 600 million children, is ground zero for this unfolding emergency[3].

Across South Asia, I have seen the climate crisis arriving in different forms:

  • A girl who no longer goes to school because her classroom collapsed in a flood.
  • A boy coughing in the heat, too tired to play, because the air is thick with smog.
  • A family sleeping on the roadside, unsure if they will ever return to the land they once called home.

In Pakistan, entire communities in Sindh and Baluchistan are still recovering from the 2022 floods. Children there have grown up too fast, exposed to disease, displacement, and trauma.

In India and Bangladesh, the crisis unfolds slowly. Heatwaves shut down schools, leaving children isolated and vulnerable to domestic risks. Rising seas erode farmland, and urban slums swell with climate migrants who lack legal recognition and protection.

In Afghanistan, it is the suddenness of disaster that stings most. Flash floods rip through villages, leaving children without shelter, stability, or emotional support they desperately need in the aftermath.

What connects these realities is a painful sense of invisibility. Children are often treated as collateral damage, their needs overlooked in disaster response and recovery planning.

These stories point to a larger truth: childhood is being redefined by climate and crisis, not by joy, growth, or safety.

The Hidden Toll: Girls, Protection, and Vulnerability

Climate emergencies trigger a domino effect of risks, especially for girls:

  • Bangladesh: 772,000 children stranded by floods; a 50% increase in child marriages among girls aged 11-14 during prolonged heatwaves[4].
  • Pakistan: Post-flood economic distress led to a documented rise in child marriages, as families sought to reduce their financial burdens[5].
  • Afghanistan: Displaced girls are increasingly forced into labor or early marriage due to collapsed protection systems[6].

When disasters strike, children pay the highest price. In Bangladesh, heatwaves and floods disrupted schooling, and child marriages spiked. In Pakistan, economic strain pushed families to marry off daughters to survive. In Afghanistan, the breakdown of protection systems leaves displaced girls vulnerable to exploitation or early marriage.

Climate shocks expose the fault lines of poverty, patriarchy, and fragile systems. Families act out of desperation, not tradition. The real failure is structural: when laws do not protect, safety nets do not reach, and girls are excluded from planning altogether.

If we do not act, every climate emergency will deepen gender inequality. Protecting girls must be a central priority in how we prepare for and respond to disasters.

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *