On
the
steep
slopes
of
Zimbabwe’s
lush
Eastern
Highlands,
newly
built
homes—mostly
grass-thatch,
pole,
and
mud
dwellings—scatter
the
rugged
terrain.
These
houses
were
built
by
tens
of
thousands
of
small-scale
farmers
who,
driven
by
crippling
droughts
in
Zimbabwe’s
lower
elevations,
have
migrated
to
the
Eastern
Highlands
in
search
of
fertile
soil,
fresh
water,
and
pasture
for
their
livestock.
Since
the
1960s,
the
average
temperature
in
Zimbabwe
has
risen
by
about
1
degree
Celsius
(2
degrees
Fahrenheit),
while
the
average
rainfall
has
decreased
by
about
20
percent.
Droughts
are
becoming
evermore
frequent,
too.
Crop-decimating
droughts
used
to
hit
roughly
once
per
decade;
they
now
strike once
every
three
years.
These
droughts
ravage
the
livelihoods
of
Zimbabweans, up
to
70
percent of
whom
work
in
agriculture.
Yet
the
Eastern
Highlands,
which
stretches
nearly
300
kilometers
along
the
border
with
Mozambique,
still
boasts
a
glut
of
perennial
rivers,
heavy
rainfall,
dense
vegetation,
foggy
mountain
peaks,
and
a
plethora
of
species.
While
the
politics
and
policies
of
international
migration
tend
to
make
headlines,
existing
scientific
evidence
suggests
that
when
it’s
the
climate
forcing
people
to
move,
they
tend
to
stick
within
their
national
borders.
In
2018,
the World
Bank
warned that
without
urgent
global
and
national
climate
action,
including
cutting
greenhouse
gas
emissions,
more
than
140
million
people
in
sub-Saharan
Africa,
South
Asia,
and
Central
America
will
likely
migrate
within
their
own
countries
by
the
year
2050.
In recent
research,
Roman
Hoffmann,
who
heads
the
migration
and
sustainable
development
research
group
at
the
International
Institute
for
Applied
Systems
Analysis
in
Austria,
used
census
records
to
show
that
drought
and
aridification
has
already
led
to
increased
internal
migration,
especially
in
particularly
dry
places—like
parts
of
Zimbabwe.
“This
area
is
our
only
hope,”
says
Lloyd
Gweshengwe,
a
farmer
who
migrated
to
the
Eastern
Highlands
a
few
years
ago
and
whose
home
now
sits
on
a
treacherous
mountainside
overlooking
a
small
river.
“It’s
still
good
for
farming.
Water
is
plenty,
and
the
soils
are
good,”
he
adds.
“This
year,
I
had
a
very
good
harvest
of
maize.
It’s
enough
to
feed
my
family
until
the
next
harvest.
I
might
even
sell
the
surplus,”
he
says.
Gweshengwe’s
story
is
one
of
many.
In
their
2022 study
of
climate
migrants
to
Zimbabwe’s
Eastern
Highlands,
Trymore
Maganga
and
Cathy
Conrad
Suso
from
Saint
Mary’s
University
in
Halifax,
Nova
Scotia,
write
that
“most
households
in
the
small-scale
farming
regions
are
resorting
to
either
short-
or
long-term
migration
to
areas
that
offer
them
food
security.”
But
the
influx
of
climate
migrants
to
Zimbabwe’s
Eastern
Highlands
is
prompting
concern
from
the
Zimbabwean
government,
environmental
groups, and
timber
companies.
These
climate
migrants,
tarred
as
squatters
or
illegal
settlers
by
local
environmentalists,
are
clearing
large
swaths
of
forests
for
croplands.
They’re
clogging
rivers
and
wetlands
with
cut
trees,
and
transforming
once-lush
forests
into
broken
mosaics
of
maize
and
other
crops.
Source:
The
Collateral
Damage
of
Climate
Migration
–
bioGraphic