DAR ES SALAAM, Tanzania, December 10 (IPS) – At dawn in the mangrove-choked Rufiji estuary, paddles from wooden canoes slice through still waters as a soft voice drifts across the tide.
“Today we talk about how communities can protect mangroves against floods,” says presenter Evalilian Massawe of Tanzania Broadcasting Corporation’s TBC FM.
Moments later, the broadcast shifts: the squelch of mud, the shuffle of rubber boots, and the rustle of mangrove seedlings. Laughter from women wading through the delta completes the scene. For many communities across Tanzania, radio has become a teacher amidst the worsening climate impacts, such as creeping saline intrusions, droughts, and flooding.
Stories of Resilience
Each week, Massawe airs stories about fishers restoring degraded mangroves, coastal villagers building seawalls, and families adopting drought-tolerant crops to cope with drought. Her programs weave science into daily life, simplifying complex climate concepts into simple language, attracting many listeners.
As global leaders wrapped up COP30 in Brazil—where calls for climate justice, adaptation financing, and stronger engagement with frontline communities dominated the agenda—community radios in Tanzania’s flood-prone areas, drought-scorched savannas and fragile coastal settlements are increasingly becoming vital climate responders.
With radio ownership still above 80 percent, these stations have become trusted conduits between scientific forecasts and ordinary families, turning abstract climate risks into human-centered stories.
Reinforced by debates at COP30, Tanzania’s broadcasters—often working with handheld recorders and local knowledge—fill gaps left by formal systems, amplifying the voices of farmers, fishermen, and pastoralists whose struggles rarely reach global platforms.
Radio doesn’t just tell stories. It stirs action. —Community broadcaster, Amina Mohamed
A Lifeline on the Water
Inside a thatched hut in the Rufiji Delta, fisherman Fakil Msumi mends his nets while listening to an old radio set—his trusted weather instrument.
“When I hear the radio announce strong winds, I tell my people to wait,” he says. “I know the tide will rise.”
He recalls first learning from the radio how mangroves protect homes from storms. After devastating floods swept through villages in 2024, he joined neighbors to replant the battered Indian Ocean coastline. Since then, he rarely misses the Bahari Yetu, Maisha Yetu—Our Sea, Our Life—program.
Radio as Climate Teacher
“Radio tells stories in a more intimate way,” says Massawe, one of Tanzania’s most trusted climate voices. “When not everyone can access the internet, a radio voice becomes the bridge.”
She once produced a series dubbed Climate Change from Scratch, simplifying scientific jargon in everyday language.
“When we asked people what climate change meant, many said, ‘It’s hot weather.’ So we explained even cutting trees or cooking with charcoal can also affect the weather.”
Radio storytelling relies heavily on sound—capturing the crunch of parched soil or the hiss of saline waves creeping inland.
“Sometimes sound tells the story better than statistics,” Massawe says.
Her programs have inspired farmers to shift from maize to cassava and women to learn rainwater harvesting techniques.
Climate Stories Told by Sound
Hundreds of kilometers north, journalist Lilian Mihale arrives at the Moshi FM studio with a recorder dangling from her wrist. She is preparing her weekly segment, Ukame sasa basi (Ending drought hardships).
Her field recordings form the backbone of her storytelling: the metallic clink of cowbells, the chatter of children, and the laughter of Maasai women fetching water from a well.
“These sounds are my script,” she says. “I go where drought hits hardest.”
She remembers interviewing a Maasai family that lost their entire herd during the dry season. “You could hear the pain in their voices,” she says.
A Medium of Trust
For decades, Tanzanian farmers, fishers, and pastoralists have battled erratic weather—prolonged droughts, flash floods, pest outbreaks, and shifting seasons. In this challenging situation, community radio has become an unlikely hero, turning climate science into practical knowledge and linking global debates to rural realities.
Mihale recalls the last planting season.
“Farmers were worried because the rains were late. But we invited experts to teach them simple soil-moisture techniques. Many harvested better than they expected.”
In the Rufiji Delta, where saline intrusion destroys crops and freshwater sources, radios hum in kitchens, fishing boats and village shops. Farmers receive advice on early warnings, agroforestry, and water conservation alongside ancestral weather knowledge.
“I used to grow only maize,” says farmer Fatuma Juma. “After learning about agroforestry from the radio, I started planting fruit trees. Now even when rains fail, I have food and something to sell.”
Youth-led groups increasingly collaborate with stations, including TBCFM, to promote climate-smart agriculture, mangrove restoration and tree planting campaigns.
Coastal Voices, Shared Fates
At Kati FM community radio in Zanzibar, presenter Amina Mohamed begins each program not with science but with community voices.
“I start with the fishermen, the mothers, and the youth—because that’s who the ocean belongs to,” she tells IPS.
A fisherman in Zanzibar, Hussein Kombo, once confessed on air, “Before, we cut mangroves to build boats. When I heard how they protect us from floods, I was ashamed.”
Today, he leads a volunteer group that has planted more than 10,000 seedlings.
“Radio doesn’t just tell stories,” Mohamed says. “It stirs action.”
Warnings that Save Lives
The Tanzania Meteorological Authority (TMA) works closely with community radios to deliver forecasts. During the 2024 floods in Kilombero district, early warnings broadcast on community radio prompted farmers to harvest early and herders to move cattle before rivers burst their banks.
In Dodoma, a weekly program called Kilimo na Mabadiliko ya Tabianchi brings together farmers and experts.
“It’s a classroom without walls,” says host Emmanuel Kimaro.
One caller, a widow, Mama Tunu, explains how she once thought mulching was laziness.
“Now my maize survives even when the rains delay,” she says.
Challenges Behind the Microphone
Yet the medium remains fragile. Many community radios operate with limited funding, unreliable electricity, and outdated equipment. When recorders break, broadcasters use mobile phones. Rural families rely on hand-cranked or solar radios, which can restrict reach.
“Climate journalism is expensive,” Massawe says. “But we do it because these are the stories that matter.”
Still, creativity thrives. Background sounds—waves lapping, soil crunching, children laughing—have become powerful storytelling tools.
“Authenticity matters more than perfect production,” she adds.
A Tool for Resilience
At the Tanzania Meteorological Agency (TMA), experts say the country’s adaptation efforts would be severely weakened without the reach of community radio, which remains the most trusted source of weather information for rural households.
John Mbise, a senior TMA climatologist, says radio’s simplicity and accessibility make it unmatched as a tool for climate learning.
“In many villages, people may not have smartphones or internet, but they always have a radio,” he explains. “When forecasts are delivered in the local language, through voices they know, communities understand faster and act immediately.”
Mbise says this direct, familiar communication has helped farmers adjust planting schedules, fishers avoid dangerous tides, and herders move livestock ahead of storms—evidence, he notes, that “adaptation becomes real when information reaches people in a form they can trust and apply in their daily lives.
Voice of Resilience
Back in Rufiji, as the tide recedes and dusk settles over the mangroves, a fisherman sits beside his canoe and tunes in to TBC FM. Massawe’s familiar voice returns:
“Remember—climate is changing, but so can we.”
He nods. “I used to think climate change was a problem for scientists. Now I know it’s my problem too.”
For broadcasters like Massawe, these small victories are quite rewarding.
“If my voice helps people understand—even a little—then it’s worth it.”
This feature is published with the support of Open Society Foundations.
IPS UN Bureau Report
© Inter Press Service (20251210075540) — All Rights Reserved. Original source: Inter Press Service
