As climate change transforms indigenous territories in Brazil, a new generation is taking the defense of their rights to new spaces.
Rising temperatures, the disappearance of food sources, forest fires, and the accelerated loss of ancestral lands are already part of their reality. At the same time, Indigenous youth are taking over the digital world and turning social media, music, photography, and dance into tools of resistance.
To mark the International Day of the World's Indigenous Peoples , commemorated on August 9, UN News spoke with three young indigenous leaders who use their voices and creativity to reach millions of people.
They are Marciele Albuquerque, a dancer and entrepreneur from the Munduruku people; Kaê Guajajara, a singer and composer from the Guajajara people; and Cristian Wariu, a photographer and communicator from the Xavante people.
The three are part of the United Nations' Verified initiative, which works to combat climate-related misinformation.
When the forest stops providing food
Marciele grew up in Juruti, in the Brazilian Amazon, where during her childhood she could swim in the rivers and pick fruit just steps from her community. When she returns now, she finds a different reality.
“We can feel that it gets hotter every year. The fruit isn’t as plentiful as it used to be. Before, we could find it close to the community, right there in the forest. Now we have to walk much farther and even then, we don’t find the same amount,” he explained.
He also notices increasingly pronounced changes between the seasons.
“We notice the difference between the rainy season and the dry season. Droughts have become extreme, and so have floods.”
The fires are changing life in the Cerrado
Cristian Wariu comes from the Parabubure Indigenous Territory in the Araguaia Valley, in the state of Mato Grosso. There, increasingly intense forest fires are transforming the Cerrado biome and disrupting the daily lives of Indigenous communities.
Its consequences go far beyond the environment.
“ Life has become increasingly unsustainable because these fires are now uncontrollable. They severely affect the food chain of the Xavante people, and that also facilitates the entry into our communities of many foods that are not good for our people,” he noted.
“One problem leads to another and, ultimately, ends up affecting our health.”
According to the United Nations, more than 370 million indigenous people worldwide are already experiencing the effects of climate change, pressures that have intensified as global temperatures rise.
Music as a voice for survival
Born in Mirinzal, in the Brazilian state of Maranhão, Kaê Guajajara believes that the current environmental crisis reflects a development model imposed on indigenous peoples.
For her, distinguishing facts from misinformation is increasingly important, especially so that vulnerable communities can prepare for climate threats before they occur.
But music has also become a form of resistance.
“Our traditional songs used to celebrate the beauty of nature and our relationship with it. Today, those same songs speak of our territories and how we are being driven out of them. They speak of deforestation because we are experiencing it,” he said.
“We are telling these stories through our songs as we reinvent ourselves and continue to exist through time.”
Raised in the Maré favela in Rio de Janeiro, Kaê recalls that around half of Brazil's indigenous population currently lives in cities and calls for stronger public policies to support these communities in urban environments.
He also observes a growing indigenous presence in the Brazilian music industry, something he sees as an opportunity to heal what he describes as a colonial wound that silenced their voices for generations.
Communication became power
Looking back at previous generations, Cristian acknowledges the work of indigenous leaders who secured constitutional rights and built organizations that strengthened their citizenship.
His generation, he argues, is now fighting on another front.
“The demarcation is no longer just about politics. It’s also about occupying the screens. One thing strengthens the other,” he explained.
“When I look at the indigenous movement as a whole, I believe that our generation’s greatest contribution has been communication. Visibility became power .”
According to Cristian, this growing digital presence is also helping indigenous peoples access political institutions and governmental decision-making spaces that were previously out of their reach.
Art is another way to fight
Marciele Albuquerque knows well the power of that visibility. She was the first indigenous woman elected Cunhã-Poranga, the main female cultural title of the famous Parintins Folklore Festival in Brazil.
She uses dance not only to celebrate indigenous identity, but also to offer representation to new generations.
This year she won the competition performing with Boi Caprichoso. One of the songs that accompanied her victory, Guerreira das Lutas, still moves her every time she hears it.
“There is a chorus that names many indigenous peoples: 'She is Munduruku, Tupinambá, Kayapó, Atroari, Asurini, Zo'é, warrior Sateré, Hixkaryana, Poranga-Cunhã.' That is the part that gives me the most strength because I am not only representing my own people. I am representing the extraordinary indigenous diversity of Brazil.”
The song, originally composed in her honor in 2022, achieved national popularity after Marciele participated in Big Brother Brazil this year.
For her, art goes far beyond entertainment.
“Art is a form of struggle.”
Marciele believes that the Parintins setting allows the public to naturally approach the issues affecting indigenous peoples while celebrating their culture.
The strength of the Samauma tree
Kaê Guajajara pursues a similar goal through her music, while challenging stereotypes that indigenous people lose their identity by using smartphones or producing electronic music.
For her, indigenous artists are expanding their traditions into new musical languages.
“Today it is increasingly common to hear the sound of the maraca alongside synthesizers.”
After performing at major festivals in Brazil and other countries, Kaê also promotes the Ze'egete language, spoken by the Guajajara people.
One of his best-known songs, Samaúma, contains a message that summarizes his understanding of resistance.
“I really like this song because it says that no matter how much cement you pour on the earth, the roots will always find a way through it. They will always grow and break through the concrete, reclaiming everything.”
The samaúma, also known as the ceiba or "Queen of the Forest", is a majestic centuries-old tree venerated by numerous indigenous peoples, which for Kaê represents resilience, resistance and life.
Like the deep roots of the ceiba tree, the presence of indigenous peoples continues to make its way despite the obstacles.