My name is Prakriti and it means Nature. Perhaps it was no coincidence that my life has always revolved around it. As a child, I was always that person reminding friends not to litter, keeping plastic away, composting, and feeling restless when I saw rivers polluted or waste being openly burnt. These things weren’t just ‘environmental issues’ to me, they felt personal, almost like wounds to something I deeply loved.
When I studied Environmental Science in my college, my love for nature slowly evolved into a profession. But I soon realized something that changed the way I looked at everything: no matter how much I, or people like me, tried to live sustainably, the impact would always remain limited unless these values were written into policies and laws, unless we have budget to implement those and unless governments and political leaders made them a priority.
Living in Nepal, I saw disasters not as distant news stories but as part of daily life. Families losing homes to landslides, farmers watching crops wither in droughts, entire villages displaced by Glacier Lake Outburst Floods and so on. Behind every number in a report, I saw people, their cultures, their traditions, and their futures slipping away. And while communities struggled to rebuild, I saw how little support there was in terms of national budget and planning. That gap between need and response pushed me into activism.
I joined youth networks, led campaigns, stood in rallies, and spoke up wherever I could. That’s where I first came across the Conference of Parties (COP), the space where the world gathers to decide the future of our climate! I was fascinated, but also angry. How could these conferences have been happening long before I was even born, and yet progress was so painfully slow? Why did leaders struggle to agree on something so urgent?
I wanted to be there. I wanted to understand, to witness, and to bring the voices of my people into those rooms. But I quickly learned the reality: passion and knowledge weren’t enough. You needed accreditation, sponsorship, and networks, things young people from the Global South often don’t have. I managed to get a government badge once but couldn’t afford the costs to actually attend. It felt like being on the edge of a door I couldn’t quite open.
And then came the Climate Leadership Initiative (CLI).
During the pandemic, I was selected as a fellow for the New Generation Program under CLI. I still remember the excitement of meeting other young leaders from across the Global South, people who, like me, had lived the impacts of climate change but were determined to fight for solutions. I was paired with a mentor, given opportunities to present. I remember I presented about indigenous practices and possible solutions in Nepal and that was all virtual via Zoom (Reminds me of the COVID days when world felt distant and connected at the same time).
I still smile when I think about the parcel Erin Roberts, the founder of CLI sent me. That was books and a diary all the way from abroad. It was the first package I had ever received internationally. My father collected it at his office, and he was so proud of me. For him, maybe it wasn’t just a parcel.
The fellows were told that if we could secure accreditation, CLI could support our journey to COP26 in Glasgow. I worked tirelessly, convinced the ministry, and got my badge. That was it! I was going to my very first COP.
I was nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. Walking into those big halls with my pink Country Delegation badge, entering negotiation rooms filled with people I had only read about before, it was overwhelming. I won’t say that I achieved a lot or that some miracles happened at COP26. Mostly, I observed, listened, and took notes. But every moment was precious. Making friends from across the world, hearing negotiators fight for words in texts, realizing how much power language and abbreviations carry. It was the beginning of a journey that has since shaped everything I do.
Since then, I haven’t missed a single COP or Subsidiary Bodies meeting in Bonn. In 2023, I was nominated one of the Youth Coordinators for the Least Developed Countries (LDCs), representing 44 nations. Sitting in strategy meetings, helping shape positions, it feels unreal sometimes. The girl who once couldn’t even afford to step into these spaces now has a seat at the table.
But my journey has never been only about international spaces. At home, I am mentoring young people in Nepal, facilitating negotiation training, and supporting initiatives like the Local Conference of Youth (LCOY), COP in My City, and other youth-led platforms where I can share my experiences with the next generation of climate leaders. Serving as a mentor for the second cohort of the New Generation Program and then working as a core team member for the third cohort, has been especially close to my heart. In them, I see reflections of my own journey.
But the truth is, without CLI, none of this would have been possible.
For young people in the Global South, opportunities like CLI are lifelines. We often lack the mentors to guide us, the training to prepare us, the financial resources to reach global spaces, or even the networks to make our voices heard. And yet, our voices are the ones that matter most. We come from communities who did the least to cause this crisis but suffer the most from it. Every flood, every drought and every lost harvest has a face, a name, a story. And those stories deserve to shape the global response.
That is what CLI does. It doesn’t just open doors but it walks beside you as you step in. What makes CLI truly unique is its holistic approach. Through biweekly workshops, we not only received technical training from global experts but also created a safe space to discuss mental health, burnout, and the emotional weight of climate work. It makes us confident, enhances solidarity, and reminds young people like me that our voices matter and they belong in these spaces.
Today, when I sit in negotiation rooms, I don’t just carry the name Prakriti. I carry my community, my country, and the collective voices of the Global South. I carry the belief that no matter how difficult the process is, change is possible when those who are most affected are finally heard.
And I will always remember it all began with CLI.
As I reflect on my journey, I know my story is not mine alone, it is the story of countless young people across the Global South who are passionate, dedicated, and resilient but lack the opportunities, resources, and mentorship to step into global spaces. Initiatives like CLI prove that when we invest in young people, we don’t just shape their futures, we shape the future of the planet.
To every young person out there who feels unheard: your voice matters. And to every leader, mentor, or organization reading this: please, keep creating spaces for us, keep investing in us. Because when the Global South rises, the world moves closer to justice.
