 May I? So dear colleagues, distinguished scholars, I'm very glad to introduce, shortly, Friedan Kirotem Bugori, whose keynote lecture will discuss African archaeology in times of climate change crisis. She, as probably all of you know already from our program, is a Kenyan archaeologist, the presently senior research scientist at the National Museums of Kenya. And she built her strong research profile through a vast range of experience and collaborations. From 2018 to 2022, she was president of the Pan-African Archaeological Association and is a former director of the British Institute in Eastern Africa. Her research has a wide spectrum, focusing both on the early Iron Age, the later Iron Age, ethnarchaeology of traditional play and pottery, pastoralist societies and the use of water, and so on and so on, and climate change, obviously, to quote only some of the issues. All these studies are inserted in a perspective linking the past and the present, underlining the importance of the knowledge of the past and of the changes and transformations for the understanding and managing of modern challenges. In this sense and for this conference, this lecture, I stress her involvement in the discussion of the effects of climate change with a focus on African societies. In 2021, she was one of the scholars initiating the research group on social archaeology of climate change and contributed to the kickoff meeting statement issued in Kiel. The link between climate, society, past and present is, therefore, a specific subject of her engaged research. And we are willing to hear more now. Thank you. Thank you, Alessandro, for that beautiful introduction. I'm truly humbled. Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished colleagues, good afternoon. Please allow me to take this opportunity to thank the organizers of this conference for giving me the opportunity to come and talk to you today. I'm truly honored. I would also like to thank them very much for facilitating my trouble and for making my stay here comfortable. My talk today is a call for action for us as archaeologists to take our rightful place in the ongoing climate change debates. As such, what I'm talking about is not just about the sites and what I've been doing, but actually what we need to do as archaeologists. I start before you today to address a topic of utmost importance, the intricate relationship between climate change and archaeology. As we delve into the depths of the past to uncover the mysteries of civilization's long gone, we find that these ancient echoes can shed light on the challenges we face in the present and in the future. I address you, not as an archaeologist, just an archaeologist, or an expert in climate change debates, but as a person who has witnessed critical challenges our planet is facing due to the advanced consequences of climate change. Africa is on the receiving end from wildfires to droughts and to the rising sea level. This is happening in all the continents. The only difference is that Africa is quite vulnerable. That said, archaeologists' relevance to the ongoing discourse on climate change is undeniable. By deciphering how ancient civilizations adopted a duad and sometimes collapsed in response to climate shifts, archaeology contributes significant insights to today's climate change debates. The theme of this annual meeting with the narratives is a succinct expression of the contributions that archaeology makes to the past, present, and future of our planet. Our globe's future is at a threat, and you'll agree with me. From the diverse impacts of global warming, a phenomenon already impacting our world. The Net Zero Initiative, addressed by numerous nations, aims to achieve a balance between carbon emissions and carbon sinks by 2050 through the implementation of best practices and carbon capture technology. The recognition by Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, IPCC, of the importance of indigenous knowledge in the pursuit of a 1.5 degrees Celsius world underscores the significance of our collaboration with communities. I am firmly convinced that our archaeological insights, coupled with ancestral practices, lay the groundwork for sustainable interventions. My experiences in the pastoral landscapes of Northern Kenya and Southern Ethiopia, that is in the border, unveil a remarkable harmony between indigenous knowledge and archaeology in the pursuit of climate change, a pursuit of climate mitigation, adaptation, and net zero strategies. Today, I am to delve into the intricate interplay between archaeology and climate change. Drawing from lessons, gleaned from our pastoralists, well-being research. I highlight the significance of this multidisciplinary discourse, citing examples from indigenous water management systems, vernacular architecture, and acubotanical evidence. Before my core presentation on Northern Kenya and Southern Ethiopia, I would like to reiterate that the contemporary significance of climate change cannot be overstated. Our planet warms, ecosystems shift, and sea level rises. Yet, history instills hope. It reminds us that societies can transcend limitations through cooperation, innovative thinking, and sustainable practices. The lessons of the past must guide our actions today. Africa, for instance, offers a rich canvas for study. Its archaeological sites unveils innovative practices that align with contemporary sustainability and diverse. The genius techniques of the past, such as terracing, agroforestry, and crop diversification, resonate in our pursuit of low-carbon farming methods. By drawing inspirations from history, we can reimagine our food systems for a more ecologically conscious future. This is work by Dr. Matthew Davis of Cambridge, who has been working in Western Kenya and looking at the indigenous farming systems. It's not actually lost on me that many in this room have conducted similar archaeological research touching on environments that shape to the cultures that they study. And all these landscapes have changed over time. However, in an era where the actions of one generation affect the fate of all, the study of the interplay between climate change and cultures takes on renewed significance. The pastoral landscapes of Northern Kenya and Southern Ethiopia have a long history of adopting two arid and semi-arid environments and the only good for pastoralism. Yet these systems are facing additional challenges from drought and floods. Archaeological and ethnographic research casts light on the historical contexts of these challenges and the strategies pastoral communities employed to cope with these changing climates. Addressing these challenges necessitates a transdisciplinary approach. So when we were doing our research in these regions, instead of imposing our expertise on the pastoralists, my team had died embarked on a journey of mutual understanding. We shared our archaeological methods and practices. And in turn, the pastoralists shared their invaluable indigenous knowledge of socio-ecological systems and traditional leadership institutions. I must say that this collaborative exchange proved transformative. The knowledge passed down through generations enabled these communities to navigate their harsh environments, sustain their pastoral economies, and weather the storms of change. Indigenous knowledge, deeply woven into the fabric of the Gabra and the Boruna communities in southern Ethiopia and northern Kenya, finds expression in rituals and ceremonies throughout life's stages. Thus, knowledge which is carefully transmitted to future generations forms a strong foundation for their epistemologies and agency. Through a transdisciplinary lens, we were able to unveil these narratives, offering insights to how past generations derived amid adversity. Traditional leadership systems as the Luba among the Gabra and the Gada among the Boruna meticulously document significant environmental events like floods, droughts, locust invasions, among others. These records chronicled the devastation caused by these events and the measures taken for mitigation, adaptation, and recovery. By retrieving and understanding these narratives throughout a transdisciplinary approach, we get insights into the impact of environmental events on the landscapes we study archaeologically. These insights help advocate for collaborative research and provide evidence-based interventions to regional policymakers, administrators, politicians, and the public in general. This we did through exhibitions. This is an exhibition that we did of the National Museums of Kenya, using three languages, the language of the pastoralists, the national language, Kisohili, and English. This was a traveling exhibition to show the pastoralists and everyone else the results of our work. So it was shown in northern Kenya and southern Ethiopia. The exhibition is still ongoing in some of these places. I would like you to consider, for instance, the precious water resources that sustain pastoral life in these regions. Indigenous practices carefully manage hard-dark wells, oasis, and springs, which are the lifelines in this arid terrain. Pastoralists safeguard these hard-dark wells, allowing pasture utilization only within 8 to 15 kilometers radius within the visibility of the wells. The pastures are reserved for times of environmental stress. The pastures are out the wells. However, when this used, some wells collapse awaiting restoration during times of need. To revive collapsed wells, intensive labor organization is required, often involving strong men from the affected clan, supported by clans' contribution of food and logistical aid. These collaborative efforts under traditional leadership showcase the resilience and adaptability of the socio-ecological systems. During periods of stress, families may lose their entire stock. In the past, restocking was assured through social support and traditional leadership, enabling recovery through contribution of ractating animals, donations, or retrieval and recovery from distance relatives. The processes of loss and recovery due to environmental stress, however, are in three-sake to life for Northern Kenya and Southern Ethiopia pastoralists. Yet, the near collapse of traditional leadership systems in recent years has wicked their effectiveness. For nearly a decade, this region has faced serious drought. External interventions, such as drilling of boils, altering wells, have advently caused an intended irreversible harm to pastoral economies. As our climate crisis deepens, we must recognize the limitations of well-intentioned interventions lacking historical understanding. For example, interventions like boreholes, water ponds, and modification to hard-dark wells without appreciation for how communities managed these environments in the past contribute to unsustainable socio-ecological systems. In the past, these misguided efforts have also transformed refuge lads into settlements with provisions of relief foods, hospitals, schools, and shops. These are all good, but these areas now cannot be used for refuge. Youth are flocked to these areas for easy access to facilities, causing overcrowding and eliminating any possibility of pasture options for stock recovery. Many of the dug wells have been neglected. Boils have dried up, proving that interventions aimed at making water access easier are failed. These outcomes echo Dell's 1995 study, which tied prolonged droughts to the collapse of classic Maya civilization due to the decline of its city states. The well-intentioned interventions by external actors also remind me of Jared Dermond's work of 2005, collapse, how societies choose to fail or succeed. Dermond investigates factors contributing to the decline and collapse of societies by analyzing past societies' choices in the face of environmental challenges. He provides lessons for contemporary societies on making decisions that impact their resilience and survival. I am, however, aware that several of his arguments require revision and greater attention to archaeological detail. But surely we can learn something out of his work. The multidisciplinary and transdisciplinary approach should not only be important in mitigation and adaptation actions. But by uniting archaeological insights with indigenous knowledge, we create a tapestry of possibilities and potential to shape our net-zero world. Today said, our archaeological work in northern Kenya involves taking deep course from Chalbi Desert to our destroyed past environments. Our archaeological course revealed the past plant regimes and the climates they thrived in, offering insights into local trees that could serve as carbon sinks. The large barren lad in northern Kenya presents an experimental carnivores for purposeful tree planting with a pastoralist's involvement from inception to implementation and sharing sustainable success. In our policy advice document, which is in preparation, we hope to incorporate such data in order to advise regarding local trees that can survive the ongoing weather regimes for the purpose of providing carbon sinks. I know such ideas have been floated about regarding the Sahara. But the practical bit of northern Kenya is that the pastoralists are still inhabiting these areas. And if they are well-involved from the conceptualization to the implementation of planting of trees, which are proven through scientific research to drive under these conditions, this contribution would indeed help to sink several tons of carbon while benefiting the local populations. Therefore, as we continue to think about how our discipline can contribute to the net-zero world, today I would wish to echo the wise ones of Gavin 2014, that integrating indigenous knowledge, fossil records, and species distribution models can help to identify climate refugee. Beyond resource management, indigenous wisdom in these two regions extends to architectural practices. The lessons from vernacular architecture underscore that sustainability lies in locally available materials and designs attuned to the local climate rather than costly, factory-produced materials. While these houses are still in use, with the advent of colonialism in Africa, came a new world order, use of vernacular architecture that relied on materials that were readily available in our environments, came to be seen as retrogressive and primitive. The lessons from the ongoing negative effect of climate change in northern Kenya and southern Ethiopia are teaching us that the factory produced building materials such as aluminum and iron sheets, which are expensive and inaccessible to these populations, are not practical for pastoral its well-being. These houses cannot be moved around the landscape, and they get too hot with increased temperatures. Therefore, while we acknowledge that the world is now a global village, we advocate for a village that is sensitive to local conditions and sustainability of livelihoods through informed choices. In conclusion, as archaeologists, we are not just two worlds of the past. We are interpreters of its relevance to the present and future. Our findings from climate models shed light on the consequences of ecological imbalance and inspire cultural shifts towards sustainability. We are unique poets to bridge the gap between scientific understanding and societal actions. The story of climate change and archaeology is a tale of adaptation, innovation, and ultimately resilience. By studying this story, we can craft our future where our echoes resonate, not with despair, but with the resulting triumph of human potential and the power to shape our destiny. Our mission, therefore, surpasses academic pursuit. It's a call to action. It's a call to navigate the intricate history of our world's challenges with empathy, respect, and the wisdom that has endured through ages. Thank you very much.