PUSHCOP29 PUSH CLIMATE JUSTICE WALK DAY 2-CAMBRIDGE

PUSHCOP29PUSH Day 2: Climate Justice Walk with Susan Buckingham

The day began in that hesitant gray of early morning, mist clinging to the air and the city slow to rouse. I arrived promptly at 8 AM in front of the café, though Jonathan was nowhere in sight, and the café itself seemed reluctant to wake. Just as I was reaching for my phone, Susan appeared, bright as a sunrise in her brick coloured coat, coasting up on a wonderful blue bicycle, her smile warm against the chill.

This was only the second time someone joined one of my walks by bicycle, the last being Bob Gibson, the “cycle man” and dear friend who had pedaled beside me on my way to Glasgow. Like Bob, Susan brought her own energy, one fueled by insight and curiosity. She insisted on treating me to a quick cup of tea at a bustling café, already packed with morning chatter. Over the hum, we swapped stories—her work with the Cam, my recent journey through India, the stories of craftspeople, of art, of the ecological tapestry woven across time. It’s been 15 years now that I've been walking this journey.

Susan Buckingham: Environmental writer, researcher, and gender specialist in the environmental sphere, Susan has spent over three decades in academia, advising the UN and EU on how gender and environmental issues intertwine. She and her husband, Tony Booth—another force for environmental and educational activism—are powerhouses in the truest sense, and my mentors on all things Cambridge ecology.

It was with their guidance that I first learned of Cambridge’s own water justice, its citizens’ “Manifesto for the Rights of the River Cam.” To witness such dedicated people reclaiming this vital waterway, uniting to protect their source—it inspired a reverence for those who preserve what is shared. Today, Susan led me on another winding walk, her bicycle beside us as we maneuvered the sleepy streets of Cambridge, past centuries-old buildings and into the heart of nature.

We reached the woods and pathways that led to the Nine Wells, where chalk streams weave an irreplaceable ecosystem. “The network of chalk streams feeding the Cam is part of only 200 such ecosystems in the world,” Susan explained, “and 85% of them are here in Southern England.” The Friends of the River Cam, a citizen-led group, fights fiercely to restore these waters, issuing a powerful pledge:

1. To declare the Cam and its tributaries endangered chalk streams and restore their biodiversity.
2. To resist growth projects that depend on further abstraction, as the area’s water supply is already under strain.
3. To press the Environment Agency for a restoration plan, a clear strategy for High Surface Water Status.
4. To hold water companies accountable, demanding transparency on water usage and sewage discharge.

These waters are the lifeblood of Cambridge, yet they face an over-abstraction crisis. While Water Resources East looks for solutions, the real story is in the relentless growth driving this demand. Cambridge Water, owned by South Staffordshire Plc (itself largely owned by investment firms), has seen the groundwater of the chalk aquifer become perilously strained.

As we walked, I was reminded of the similar battles in my hometown of Bengaluru, India. There, reckless development and a plummeting water table echo Cambridge's story, both ancient cities gripped by urban pressures that threaten their very essence. Yet just as Cambridge has its defenders, so does Bengaluru, with activists tirelessly reclaiming public water bodies and green spaces. In both places, citizens challenge the relentless march of “development,” reasserting their right to the land and its resources.

We moved on to community allotments—vibrant patches of shared land, where city dwellers nurture vegetables and flowers in rented plots, a reminder of how local initiatives can embody sustainable development. By then, it was 10 AM, and we’d shared two hours of intense learning, rich with Susan's insights. As she parted, she directed me toward the Nine Wells, and I wandered on alone, feeling the companionship of trees and the quiet murmur of the streams.

After some time, I found myself lost—again. Google proved no help, and I attempted to retrace my steps, only to find myself further astray. Fortunately, a kind nature lover named Ian offered to guide me back. Together, we made our way back to Jesus Green, where I started. Though my left leg ached, the satisfaction of new understanding buoyed me. Today had been a lesson in urban planning, water management, and the resilience of citizen action.

Four hours, 26,437 steps later, I hobbled home, greeted by the scent of fresh South Indian lunch prepared by Uma, my unwavering supporter. Despite the ache, my left foot felt lighter, perhaps with the hopeful news of our Prime Minister’s visit to Baku, suggesting some small steps forward.

Tomorrow is another day on this journey, Day 3 of this climate justice walk—different from any of my previous 15 years of advocacy. It’s a walk that is spontaneous, creative, filled with new encounters and lessons. Wish me luck, friends. Send me a message, a photo, a word of encouragement.

And to you, Susan, thank you. You brightened the day more than the sun ever could.

Wellbeing Economy Alliance - WEAll @200 million artsans, Anil Annaiah

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