‘No one wants to leave’: Marshallese communities push back against the migration narrative

By Ron Rocky Coloma

In the Marshall Islands, where land is not just property but lineage, identity and spiritual inheritance, the idea of leaving is not an option. Even as rising seas flood runways, submerge burial grounds and transform forests into sandbars, Marshallese leaders are pushing back against one of the most dominant narratives in global climate discourse: relocation as inevitability.

“People want sea walls. They want to stay,” said Kathy Jetn̄il-Kijiner, the Marshall Islands’ climate envoy and co-founder of the nonprofit Jo-Jikum. “Migration is the last option.”

Kathy Jetn̄il-Kijiner

Jetn̄il-Kijiner, a poet and climate advocate, spoke during a regional webinar on climate resilience that included leaders from across the Pacific. Her message was clear. Adaptation must go beyond engineering and infrastructure. It must uphold the cultural and spiritual rights of communities who refuse to be displaced.

“We are an atoll nation, completely flat, just two meters above sea level,” she said. “There’s nowhere higher to run. But we are not planning to run.”

The Marshall Islands’ latest National Adaptation Plan, finalized in 2023, reflects that ethos. Based on consultations with residents across 17 of the country’s 24 inhabited islands, the plan acknowledges sea level rise as the most urgent threat. But it also affirms that no matter the encroaching waters, the desire to remain rooted is unwavering.

“There’s a misconception that it’s easier for us to leave,” Jetn̄il-Kijiner said. “But land here is tied to 1,000 years of land tenure, oral history and chiefly systems. Leaving would unravel who we are.”

In a region often framed by loss, Jetn̄il-Kijiner and her colleagues emphasize agency. Through Jo-Jikum, she works with Marshallese youth to understand, confront and reshape their climate future on their own terms. One of the organization’s most powerful tools is art. Their annual Climate Arts Camp blends climate science with poetry, painting and traditional weaving. Students learn in the mornings, then transform that knowledge into creative expression.

“It’s a form of meditation and resistance,” she said. “Art allows us to process fear and imagine new futures. It helps people face the crisis without shutting down.”

Adaptation in the Marshall Islands takes extreme forms. Jetn̄il-Kijiner described government plans to raise islands, extend land into lagoons, relocate vulnerable neighborhoods within the country and construct extensive sea walls.

“There is no such thing as a coastal city here,” she said. “We are a coastal nation. All of us live on the edge.”

Yet, these technical solutions are only part of the equation. Cultural protection remains central. One of the biggest questions the nation faces is how to reconcile traditional land ownership with the creation of new land.

“Who owns land that didn’t exist before?” she asked. “Our high chiefs are now facing decisions our ancestors never had to consider.”

Gareth Quity, of the Pacific Islands Climate Action Network, echoed the need for dignity-driven adaptation strategies. “Too often, vulnerable communities are left out of planning,” he said.

He emphasized that donor funding frequently bypasses remote areas because they are harder to reach, even though these communities are often the most at risk. “That’s not justice,” Quity said. “We must empower communities to participate in decision-making, not hand them plans after the fact.”

In the Marshall Islands, where the entire population lives within a few feet of the rising sea, Jetn̄il-Kijiner sees climate change not as an external phenomenon but as an internal reckoning—of governance, culture and identity.

“Our national adaptation plan isn’t just technical,” she said. “It reflects who we are as a people.”

Even in moments of loss, communities have chosen to adapt in place.

“They want protection,” she said. “Not passage.”

She also warned against the framing of relocation as a cost-effective solution. “Donors sometimes ask, ‘Why not just move?’ But to us, this is not just land. It’s life, and our people are choosing to stay.”

Jetn̄il-Kijiner recalled flooded homes, vanished landmarks and graveyards lost to saltwater. Still, the answers they heard on every island remained the same.

“We need to stop thinking of the Pacific as a place that will vanish,” she said.

“We’re not just advocating for sea walls. We’re advocating for our homes, our history and our future.”

And for the Marshallese, that future is not somewhere else.

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