In many villages, people may not have smartphones or internet, but they always have a radio. When forecasts are delivered in the local language, through voices they know, communities understand faster and act immediately. --John Mbise, a senior TMA climatologist DAR ES SALAAM, Tanzania, Dec 10 2025 (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. 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. 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. 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." "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. Her programs have inspired farmers to shift from maize to cassava and women to learn rainwater harvesting techniques. 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. 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. 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. "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. Youth-led groups increasingly collaborate with stations, including TBCFM, to promote climate-smart agriculture, mangrove restoration and tree planting campaigns. 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." 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. 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. 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." 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: He nods. "I used to think climate change was a problem for scientists. Now I know it's my problem too." Follow us on WhatsApp | LinkedIn for the latest headlines 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. "Sometimes sound tells the story better than statistics," Massawe says. "These sounds are my script," she says. "I go where drought hits hardest." 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." "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. "Authenticity matters more than perfect production," she adds. 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. 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. Radio doesn't just tell stories. It stirs action. --Community broadcaster, Amina Mohamed

Tanzania: How Community Radio Is Powering Tanzania's Climate Resilience

AllAfrica publishes around 600 reports a day from more than 110 news organizations and over 500 other institutions and individuals, representing a diversity of positions on every topic. We publish news and views ranging from vigorous opponents of governments to government publications and spokespersons. Publishers named above each report are responsible for their own content, which AllAfrica does not have the legal right to edit or correct. 10 December 2025 Inter Press Service Tagged: Climate East Africa Tanzania Environment Tagged: Climate East Africa Tanzania Environment Tagged: Climate East Africa Tanzania Environment "Today we talk about how communities can protect mangroves against floods," says presenter Evalilian Massawe of Tanzania Broadcasting Corporation's TBC FM. 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. 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. "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."