“𝗜𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗲𝘀, 𝘄𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝘆 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗴𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝘁.”

That was the joke a friend cracked last week as we both fanned ourselves under the scorching Abuja sun. We laughed, but deep down, it was far from funny. Nigeria is no stranger to heat, but what we are experiencing lately feels different. It is intense, long-lasting, and completely draining.

This is no longer just a change in weather. The heat is now personal. A few weeks ago, I stepped out under the Abuja sun and felt as if the sky had dropped closer to my skin. The air was thick, and the heat was unbearable. It reminded me of recent reports about record-breaking heat waves around the world and how the United Nations now calls this era not just global warming but “global boiling.” That made me pause and ask a simple but serious question: How much more can our planet take?

In Nigeria, the heatwave has not just been uncomfortable; it has been a warning bell. Crops dried out faster, electricity demand shot up, and many vulnerable communities felt the brunt of it with no protection in sight.

So the big question is, with all the policies, pledges, and promises made in recent years, where exactly are we heading?

In my first article, Do Climate Pledges Mean Anything Anymore?, I questioned the gap between what world leaders say and what they do. I highlighted how bold climate commitments made at international summits often fade into silence when it is time for real action. From financial pledges to emission cuts, the promises look good on paper but lack the power to protect the vulnerable communities already feeling the heat, literally and figuratively.

Then came the follow-up article: Policy or Politics? Who Is Shaping Our Climate Future? There, I talked about how climate action is too often hijacked by political interests. In Nigeria and many other places, policies that could create real change are either delayed by bureaucracy or weakened by a lack of enforcement. Promises are made, and committees are formed, but the communities most affected by climate disasters remain unprotected. It became clear that when climate policy becomes a tool for political chess, progress is the casualty.

Now we are here. At the tipping point.

Let us start by acknowledging the truth. We have reached a tipping point. Climate change is no longer something far away or only happening in documentaries. It is in our markets, our farms, our homes, our water supply, and our health systems. What used to be called “climate warning” is now a full-blown climate emergency.

Across the world, global leaders have signed bold agreements like the Paris Agreement, pledging to reduce emissions and support green energy. But here is the bitter pill: in 2023, global carbon emissions still hit a record high of 36.8 billion metric tons. That is despite all the nice speeches and colourful conference banners.

Wealthy nations once promised to deliver 100 billion dollars yearly to help vulnerable countries tackle climate change. That promise was made in 2009. Yet in 2022, only 83.3 billion dollars was delivered. This shortfall has real consequences. In countries like Nigeria, where climate disasters are already happening, from oil spills in Bayelsa to droughts in parts of the North, this money could have supported adaptation efforts, infrastructure, and community resilience. Instead, communities are left to figure things out on their own.

Across Nigeria, farmers are struggling to plant on time because the seasons are no longer predictable. The rains arrive late or flood the fields when they finally come. Food prices are rising. Water sources are drying up in some places and overflowing in others. People are beginning to connect the dots. This is not just nature doing its thing. This is climate change in motion.

The Climate Change Act, signed in 2021, was a significant milestone. It aims to help the country reach net-zero emissions by 2060. But how many Nigerians even know what is inside the Act? How much funding is available to implement it? More importantly, who is making sure it is being followed? Without proper enforcement, policies can become beautiful documents with little real-life impact.

Then, there is the problem of slow implementation. Even when we have good climate policies or clean energy plans, they often get stuck in long approval processes. Solar projects can take years to get off the ground due to poor coordination, unclear guidelines, and sometimes outright corruption. And so, communities stay stuck with diesel generators and open firewood, even when better solutions exist.

But there is still hope.

While many leaders delay, people are taking action. In Kenya, communities are planting trees and reclaiming land without waiting for government help. In parts of Northern Nigeria, youth-led groups are teaching farmers how to adapt to new weather patterns. Around the world, companies are committing to clean energy. Movements like Fridays for Future have shown that even young people can shape the global conversation.

Science tells us that we still have a chance. A small window of time remains for us to act and slow down the damage. It is not just about saving polar bears or protecting forests anymore. It is about food, health, safety, and survival. It is about whether your child will grow up in a stable world or one full of climate chaos.

So, where do we go from here?

First, we must take science seriously. Governments, especially in Africa, need to treat climate change as an emergency, not a background issue. Climate laws should not only exist, but they should be enforced with clear goals and consistent funding. Climate education must also become a national priority. When people understand the issue, they are more likely to act. Governments must enforce the laws they create. Policies must come with timelines, budgets, and consequences for failure. We must also demand that wealthy nations fulfill their climate finance commitments. These funds are not charity. They are a matter of climate justice.

Second, international support must be consistent and fair. Climate finance promised by wealthy countries must be delivered in full and on time. Countries that have contributed the least to climate change should not be left to suffer the most while waiting for help that may never arrive.

Third, community voices must rise above political noise. Climate action should not be left to politicians alone. Farmers, students, market women, traditional rulers, and youth groups all have a role to play. The solutions must come from both the top and the bottom.

And lastly, you, reading this now, you matter! Your voice, your vote, your choices, your business idea, your community work—they all matter! . Do not wait until climate change knocks on your door. It already has.

We must remember that climate change is not someone else’s problem. It is ours. Whether you are a student, parent, teacher, farmer, business owner, or leader, you have a role to play. You can use less, reuse more, speak out, support local climate groups, and hold leaders accountable.

We have talked about pledges. We talked about politics. Now, it is time to talk about power. Not the one held in government houses, but the one in your hands.

Because the climate tipping point is not just a global headline. It is a mirror. It reflects back our actions, our choices, and our priorities. And it is asking us, where do we go from here?

I hope we go forward together and not backward in regret. I hope you choose to be part of the solution. Because in the end, the future we talk about is not far away. It is already here, and it is in our hands.