Voices of Change: Pakistani Women Use Music to Combat Climate Crisis
When Classics Meet Countryside: Women & the Music of Climate Change
In the dusty valleys of rural Pakistan, where almost everyone is still learning how to read and the internet feels like a ghost town, a band of local women has found a surprisingly powerful megaphone—music.
Jammin’ for the Earth
Picture this: a group of women, headphones glued, blending Afghan ghazals with modern beats, all while broadcasting key facts about rising temperatures and flooded rivers. No fancy broadcasts—just raw, soulful tunes that hit the heart.
- Only 3% of rural folks run with real online access.
- They turn to community gatherings and mobile radios to broadcast their messages.
- Every chorus tackles essentials like “Why your irrigation is dying” and “How to keep kites soaring in scorching winds.”
These ladies aren’t just singing for giggles; they’re music‑powered teachers in a place where pamphlets are as rare as a digital download and in‑person meetups are the closest thing to Wi‑Fi.
Meet Sham Bhai: The Village Voice and Climate Warrior
When Sham Bhai hits the first note, the whole community hits a pause, as if the chorus is a spell that turns the dusty lanes into a concert hall. Her voice—clear, steady, and unapologetically grounded—rides the breeze the song cries about: the winds that now arrive early, boisterous, and scorching.
What she sings, what she sees
- She’s 18, but her voice echoes the age‑long struggles of the South.
- In Sindhi, her native tongue, she belts, “The winds are coming from the north, cold and warm—we’re at a tipping point.”
- Her lyrics carry a heartbreak: “My heart is burning seeing collapsed houses in the rain.”
- She pleads, “Oh beloved, come home soon.” A plea that feels both personal and universal.
Beyond the Mic: The Climate Anthem
Sham isn’t just a singer; she’s part of a rising chorus of women who blend traditional melodies with modern vibes to spotlight climate change in Pakistan’s most vulnerable corners.
Why her story matters
- She uses music to raise awareness, turning each performance into a rallying cry.
- Her songs navigate the tension between cultural roots and urgent environmental concerns.
- She exemplifies how art can challenge norms—both in gender roles and in confronting the climate crisis.
Takeaway
In a world where the wind can feel like a villain, Sham Bhai turns that wind into a message: a call for resilience, solidarity, and a dose of hope—wrapped up in a song that feels like a hug from her village.
Village Vibes: Sham Bhai Turns Climate Science into a Melodic Message
Who’s the Star?
Sham Bhai – an 18‑year‑old folk singer from Sindh – has become a walk‑in‑the‑mood musical messenger. With the province badly scarred by the 2022 floods that swallowed whole communities, she’s been hitting the dusty roads for two years, turning hard‑knock climate facts into catchy tunes.
How the Act Starts
Every show kicks off with an energetic, familiar hook. “It’s the hook that lures people in,” Sham says. Once the crowd is moving, she slides into slower, moving ballads that paint the reality of floods, displacements, and the emotional toll of a changing planet.
Lyrics That Win Hearts
- Flood‑tide stories that hit home
- Images of houses drenched and families displaced
- A chorus that reminds listeners why trees matter
From Music to Action
Sham isn’t just singing for entertainment – she’s nudging her audience to act. According to her:
- People are planting trees to help dune their land.
- Homes are being reinforced for higher resilience.
- Because women and children often fall hardest when the weather turns nasty.
“When we sing about how climate change hurts the family, it hits a nerve that science alone can’t reach,” she tells us.
The Bottom Line
With each village stop, Sham turns the dread of climate change into a shared soundtrack. Her music proves that a good tune can turn knowledge into practice, and that a story told in song is a powerful rally call for community resilience.
Rap as resistance
Meet Urooj Fatima – the Rock‑and‑Roll Rebel of Sindh
Urooj Fatima, better known on the streets as Sindhi Chhokri, is turning the streets of Pakistan into a stage for the unheard.
The Flood‑Battered Beatmaker
After her own home went belly up twice – once in 2022 and again in 2024 – Urooj found her voice in the crack of a microphone. “I used to drown, now I’ll drown the skeptics,” she chuckles, but her lyrics deliver a serious reality check.
Why Rap? Why Now?
- Widespread Reach – “One village can host at most fifty people. With rap, we can bring hundreds of thousands in line.”
- Young Vibes – Hip‑hop speaks the language of a generation that’s hungry for change.
- Taboo Topics – From women’s rights to climate crisis, Urooj tackles everything that silences the masses.
The Bomb‑Bowed Ballad of 2022
Her sharpest track was written after the 2022 Balochistan floods. The lyrics are a little snappy, a little angry, and entirely unapologetic:
“There are potholes on the road; the roads are ruined—yes, driven mad by the floods!”
“I’m telling the truth. Will your anger rain down on me? Where was the Balochistan government when the waters rushed in? My pen thirsts for justice—now these thieving rulers can keep their filthy pockets.”
“This isn’t just a rap. It’s a revolution you can hear on the radio or at a protest.”
Fan‑Fabulous Follow‑Up
- Urooj’s music is a tool for empowerment, inviting listeners to rally against corruption.
- She inspires a whole new generation of female artists, proving that women can rap and ripple real change.
- Her beats: high energy, high impact – every verse is a call to action.
Now the streets are echoing with her verses, and the heartbeats of millions are getting louder. Urooj Fatima isn’t just a rapper; she’s a living loudspeaker for the people’s voice.
Folksy Fiesta in Umerkot: The Women Who Strolled Away
Sham Bhai’s gig was a hit, but when the last chord rang out, a whole pack of women decided it was time to leave.
Sham Bhai: The Unofficial Maestro of Umerkot
- Born into the rich tapestry of Pakistani folk tradition
- Instrument of choice? A humble ranchu (a stringed plucked instrument)
- Audience in the village swayed, laughed, and sang along
- His tunes blended history with heart – a perfect recipe for a memorable night
Why the Women Had to Pull Their Boots Off
After Sham Bhai wrapped up, the vibes turned from celebration to a planning mode. The women, not willing to stay any longer, gathered their bags. Here’s a quick rundown of what fueled their departure:
- They had morning chores at home that called for early action.
- Some needed to settle personal matters back in the village.
- They felt the “music afterglow” calling them back – the ballads were still humming on their minds.
- And, let’s face it, the idea of another drumbeat was tempting, but a sensible face crossed the lips.
Life in Umerkot: Post‑Show Spirit
The village buzzed afterward; the music lingered like a comforting whisper as people went about their day. Even the street dogs sensed the rhythm, wagging their tails to the echoing melodies. As the sun dipped behind the fort, Umerkot settled into its ordinary lull, ready to start a brand‑new day.
When Music Meets Mother Earth: The Story of Sham Bhai
Picture a dusty village in Umerkot, Pakistan, where the locals gather around a stage and the air hums to the rhythm of a Pakistani folk melody. The star of the evening? The ever‑lively Sham Bhai, whose voice carries the pulse of Sindh and the swing of change.
From the Stage to the Streets
- Sham Bhai’s songs first hit the airwaves at local festivals.
- They exploded on social media, turning an ordinary singer into a continental sensation.
- Now she partners with her sister, Khanzadi, on a full‑time mission: planting trees, trekking remote villages, and lobbying governments for greener policies.
“It’s Women Who Feel the Brunt of Climate Change”
The duo believes that climate catastrophe hits women all the hardest. They’re the ones:
- Fetching water from rivers that might dry up.
- Tending livestock that may not survive a heatwave.
- Managing households, small businesses, even the chaos of displacement.
- Staying resilient in the face of floods and droughts, yet often being the last voice heard in emergency calls.
“When a flood comes from above, it’s the women who get hit hardest,” Khanzadi says. “They have no opportunities or facilities, and then a disaster drills them into the line of fire.”
Music: A Lifeline for Rural Sindh
In an area where the literacy rate is a modest 38 %, the usual hearing‑aid tools—like pamphlets and official notices—do not work. The people there speak Sindhi primarily, not Urdu. So what’s the most effective way to get climate awareness across? Music. Well, a jam‑session anthem that speaks the same language as the meter!
When Sham Bhai sings, it’s not just a tune. It’s a memory keeper. It’s a way to patch waves of information into cultural threads that people can grasp, feel, and, most importantly, act on.
