PUSHCOP29CLIMATE JUSTICE WALKS

Day 7: PUSH COP29 Climate Justice Walk – Cambridge

GO PUSH GO ????

The morning broke with a drizzle and the kind of cold that seeps into your bones, a reminder of both nature's beauty and its relentless warning. As I stepped out, wrapped in layers that seemed inadequate against the chill, two messages reached me—one from my family, warming me like a fleeting sunbeam, and another, a chilling echo of the global injustice we are fighting to dismantle.

Lidy Nacpil's words lingered in my mind as I carefully made my way to Jesus Green: "To deliver climate finance through loans not only contradicts the principle of acknowledging historical responsibility; it is deeply unjust to force impoverished countries to go deeper into debt to address the climate emergency." A bitter truth to carry, but also a call to action.

The twinkle of Christmas lights strung along the park offered a small solace, as did Johny's warm smile at the café. The familiarity of his cheer made the journey less daunting, even as my still-tender left foot reminded me of its limits. I decided not to stray far, planning a modest loop around the park—2,000 steps to home if need be.

Cyclists whizzed by, mothers ushered children along, and the morning crowd bustled towards town. It was a reminder that life moves, even as we confront crises. My steps took me toward the quay, slow and deliberate, observing and reflecting. By the time I reached 8,000 steps, the rain had softened, and an Oxfam shop caught my eye.

Inside, I met Hendrik—whom I mistakenly kept calling Frederick—a new volunteer whose enthusiasm brought warmth to the little shop. Oxfam shops have always been a sanctuary for me, a place where stories live in the pages of donated books and the shared experiences of the people who keep them alive. Hendrik reminded me of a walk in 2021 when an Oxfam assistant manager had curated an entire display of climate-related books. A quiet act of advocacy, as profound as any protest.

After a brief chat, I moved on to a larger Oxfam shop in town. There, Ayako Oyama, a kind presence amid the morning bustle, helped me pick out Archangel by Robert Harris. Our conversation turned to climate change, and she shared her fears about its impact on Japan, the UK, and the world. She wasn’t keen on being recorded, but her words stayed with me. "I enjoy the companionship here," she said, describing the community formed across Oxfam shops—a tapestry of diversity, experience, and generations bound by shared purpose.

I left the shop with the distinct feeling that these small hubs of humanity—these volunteer-run spaces—hold untapped power. Imagine the force they could become if mobilized for the planet. Yet, my walk over the past few days had also revealed how little many people know about the climate crisis, even in places where its effects are acutely felt.

By the time I reached home, 15,468 steps later, I was unexpectedly hopeful. What began as a challenging day had turned into a reminder of resilience, community, and the potential for change. The pain in my foot was a dull throb now, manageable, a minor protest against the promise of tomorrow.

The messages from friends and allies started pouring in, offering solace and strength. Thobile Chittenden of WEALL sent a reflection that resonated deeply: "WEALL is an alliance for an economy in service of life. At this moment, we need to come together, respect each other's perspectives, and find common ground to seek solutions for a burning planet."

And so, with tomorrow on the horizon, I will walk again. For each step is a small rebellion, a whisper to the Earth: we are listening, we are acting, we are pushing forward.

More to come, as Day 8 awaits.