In the outskirts of Riohacha, a city in northern Colombia, Nelly Mengual lives in a makeshift shelter cobbled together from scrap metal, wood, and plastic tarps. Earlier this year, intense flooding and strong winds ripped the roof off her dwelling, leaving everything submerged in water. Mengual resides in one of the many informal settlements scattered across the region, home to numerous Wayuu people—an Indigenous group native to the stretch of land that traverses both Colombia and Venezuela. While many Wayuu were born in Colombia, those who recently fled Venezuela’s economic turmoil face the harshest conditions, often lacking access to basic necessities like running water and electricity. For the Wayuu, whose heritage transcends the political borders of Colombia and Venezuela, these lines are perceived as artificial, with cultural bonds unbroken by national boundaries.
Mengual, who makes a meager living by selling recyclable materials in Maicao, expressed her despair over the loss of her home and possessions. The Wayuu, recognized as Colombia’s largest Indigenous group, are now confronted with severe climate-related challenges, experiencing both droughts and floods at an increasing rate due to global warming. These drastic shifts not only lead to the destruction of their homes but also result in the depletion of vital water sources, decimation of crops, and heightened health risks due to waterborne diseases. Many families are forced to migrate in search of essential resources, which exerts additional pressure on already overcrowded urban areas.
Ingrid Gonzalez, a community leader from Maracaibo, illustrates that traditional Wayuu huts made from sticks and mud easily succumb to seasonal rains. Gonzalez, who has lived in the Villa del Sol settlement near Riohacha for six years, noted that many homes are vulnerable to flooding, which erodes the mud structures. Even with attempts to fortify their homes, the damage remains extensive, and roof sheets are frequently torn away by powerful winds.
Environmental authorities in La Guajira, such as Corpoguajira’s Samuel Lanao, report that extreme floods in 2024 caused significant losses among Indigenous communities, especially those with roots in Venezuela. Climate change has contributed to the rise of vector-borne diseases, such as dengue and Zika, which have severely impacted these communities. In response, Corpoguajira has devised a Climate Change Plan to reduce emissions and enhance the resilience of both communities and ecosystems.
Camilo Martinez, who manages operations for the Danish Refugee Council in La Guajira, has witnessed significant changes in weather patterns over the years. Previously, the region experienced fog and cool temperatures during certain hours of the morning, which have gradually disappeared, as have the snow peaks on nearby mountains.
Shifting weather patterns are supported by empirical evidence, including data from Colombia’s Institute of Hydrology, Meteorology, and Environmental Studies. Rising temperatures, protracted drought spells, erratic rainfall, and increasing desertification are all indicators of climate change in La Guajira. Last year, temperature spikes were the most intense many, like Gonzalez, can recall, affecting residents’ health and causing the death of livestock due to heat stress.
Many Wayuu continue to observe semi-nomadic traditions, living in rancherias—structures crafted from dried cacti and mud—and sustaining themselves through cattle and goat herding. However, numerous informal settlements lack essential services like sanitation and running water. Residents often have to purchase untreated water delivered in barrels by mules, posing significant health risks as this water is only fit for washing or cooking.
Efforts by non-governmental organizations attempt to bridge the gap in state support throughout La Guajira, where governmental assistance is scarce or nonexistent. Wayuu leader Anibal Mercado highlights that migrant Wayuu populations are disproportionately affected by climate change, now resorting to recycling and waste collection—a stark departure from their traditional livelihoods.
In the Uyatpana neighborhood, Wayuu resident Laura Pushaina diligently weaves a traditional hammock, known as a chinchorro, to support her family of five. Many Wayuu people, like Pushaina, have established informal homes in Colombia due to unstable political and economic conditions in Venezuela. Despite their hopes to return, the circumstances remain too uncertain. Pushaina recently endured severe flooding, which ravaged her home, flooding it like a river. Although many dream of returning to lands with better infrastructure, this remains out of reach for now.
