At the same time, I grew up in Singapore, a global city shaped by trade, speed, and efficiency. Food arrived from everywhere, always available, neatly packaged, and disconnected from land and labour. I lived between these two worlds. One rooted in land, culture, and community, and the other shaped by global supply chains. That contrast stayed with me. It made me question what we lose when food systems become distant from land and people, and what we gain when ecological knowledge and care are kept alive.
Now, I study in London, in the United Kingdom. Living here has shown me that Indigenous and local ecological knowledge is not something distant or foreign. Communities across these lands once built farming and food systems based on local climates, soils, and seasons. These systems were resilient, sustainable, and long lasting. They worked with ecosystems rather than breaking them. They fed people while protecting land, biodiversity, and water.
Over time, many of these systems were disrupted through industrialisation and extractive agriculture. What replaced them prioritised efficiency and scale over balance and care. The result is a food system that produces abundance for some, but vulnerability for many, while contributing to climate change, biodiversity loss, and soil degradation. Seeing this while living in the UK has reinforced a simple truth. Sustainable systems already existed. We moved away from them.
Roots and Routes is not just my work. It is something I co-lead with Sophie Ball, a close friend and collaborator. Sophie is American and brings her own experiences of engaging with land, environmental justice, and community-led action from a different context. Despite our different backgrounds, we share the same passion for ethical climate action and for learning from people who have protected their ecosystems for generations. Our work is shaped by curiosity, care, and a belief that climate solutions must be grounded in real relationships.
Indigenous ecological knowledge is often misunderstood. It is sometimes treated as cultural background rather than technical expertise. In reality, it is a sophisticated system of environmental management built through centuries of observation, experimentation, and adaptation. Indigenous knowledge integrates ecology, climate, food systems, water management, and social organisation into a single living framework. It is place-based, but its principles are globally relevant.
This knowledge has real implications for how the world responds to climate change. At international climate negotiations such as COP, solutions are often framed through technology, carbon markets, and large-scale infrastructure. While these tools matter, they rarely address the root causes of environmental breakdown. Indigenous knowledge offers a different lens. It centres limits, reciprocity, and long-term stewardship rather than endless growth. It asks not only how we reduce emissions, but how we live within ecological boundaries.
A clear example is the global use of pesticides. Modern industrial agriculture relies heavily on chemical pesticides to maximise short-term yields. While effective in the short term, their widespread use has contributed to soil degradation, biodiversity loss, pollinator decline, and water contamination. These impacts weaken ecosystems and make food systems more vulnerable to climate shocks. By contrast, many Indigenous and agroecological systems rely on natural pest control, crop diversity, intercropping, and soil health. Instead of eliminating all insects, these systems work with ecological balance. Healthy soils, diverse crops, and natural predators reduce pest outbreaks without damaging ecosystems. These approaches are not anti-science. They are evidence-based systems refined over generations, and increasingly supported by modern ecological research.
Indigenous knowledge also plays a critical role in climate adaptation. Communities that have lived through floods, droughts, heat, and environmental change for centuries have developed strategies to cope with uncertainty. These include diversified crops, seed saving, water harvesting, and collective decision making. As climate impacts intensify, these adaptive practices are becoming increasingly relevant to both rural and urban contexts worldwide.
Climate change is not only an environmental crisis. It is a crisis of relationships. Our relationship with land, with food, and with each other has been shaped by systems that extract without giving back. Indigenous and community-led food systems offer a different way forward. They show how food can nourish ecosystems as well as people, how livelihoods and biodiversity can be strengthened together, and how resilience is built through cooperation rather than control.
This shared belief is what led Sophie and me to build Roots and Routes through Earthupp. The initiative is a two-way exchange between Indigenous ecological practitioners and young people in the UK. Indigenous partners share land-based and agroecological practices rooted in lived experience. Young people contribute skills in research, documentation, storytelling, and organising. The aim is not to take knowledge, but to build ethical, long-term relationships based on respect, reciprocity, and shared learning.
On 5 February, Roots and Routes: Indigenous Knowledge for Urban Climate Resilience brought this approach into a live setting at King’s College London as part of Climate and Sustainability Month. The event brings together Indigenous and community voices from Uganda and the UK to explore how food systems rooted in care and culture can strengthen urban climate resilience.
One of our speakers is Martin Tomusange, founder of Thriving Youth Farmers Uganda, an Indigenous Ugandan NGO supporting youth farmers through agroecology, food security, and community-led development. His work demonstrates how Indigenous and local knowledge can build livelihoods, support gender equity, and strengthen climate resilience on the ground.
We are also joined by Dr Christopher Browne, Global Head of Research and Policy at Compassion in World Farming. With experience across academic research, government policy, and global advocacy, he brings insight into how industrial food systems drive climate change and environmental injustice, and how grassroots approaches can inform policy at national and international levels.
Through storytelling, case studies, and an interactive workshop, the event will explore who holds power in food systems, how Indigenous principles can guide decision making, and how universities and young people can engage ethically with grassroots movements.
One of the most important lessons we have learned over the past year is that passion must be matched with humility. Indigenous knowledge challenges us to rethink what progress means. It reminds us that sustainable systems already exist. The challenge now is whether global institutions, policymakers, and societies are willing to listen, learn, and act with integrity.