COP30 Matters Deeply to Trade Unions: NLC’s Urgent Call for Action

By: Abudu Olalekan

The sun in Keffi was stubborn that day. Hot, harsh, unrelenting. Yet inside the modest conference hall, cooled air and sharper words filled the space. Comrade Eche Asuzu, National Coordinator on Climate Change and Just Transition of the Nigeria Labour Congress, sat upright, voice steady but firm. “This time must be different,” he began. “COP30 isn’t another talk shop. It’s supposed to be the action one.”

And that was how the conversation started—half formal, half human. Because every worker in that room knew what heat feels like when the factory fan stops spinning. They’ve felt floods ruin their farms, seen oil spills destroy their homes. Climate change isn’t a chart for them. It’s their daily grind.

So when Asuzu calls COP30 the “Implementation COP,” he isn’t being poetic. After 29 rounds of promises, climate pledges, and carefully worded communiqués, workers—ordinary people—are done waiting. “For us,” he said, “just transition has been theory for too long. It’s time the world turns paper commitments into real jobs, clean air, and safe workplaces.”

The labour movement’s expectations for COP30, slated for Belém, Brazil, are steep but simple. They want fairness. Financing. Respect. And justice—especially from the world’s wealthiest nations.

At the NLC’s Pre‑COP30 Synthesis and Strategy Meeting in Keffi, participants reviewed, vented, and planned. “The developed countries owe it,” Asuzu said flatly. “Their factories made the mess, yet it’s our people choking from heat and flood.”

He explained that working people now suffer from “climate-linked illnesses”—heat stress, worsening heart and lung diseases, even cancers from toxic exposure. “Climate change is not just melting glaciers; it’s melting lives,” he said. “So we’re demanding just financing. Funding that reaches real workers, not another abstract account in some foreign bank.”

From his tone, you could tell they’ve lost patience. The Global North, he reminded, had once promised $1.2 trillion at COP29. Nice headline. But reality bites harder. The United Nations’ own estimates now say the developing world may need closer to $4 trillion each year to actually cope with the crisis. “So yes,” Asuzu noted, “we’re asking for 1.3–1.3–4 trillion. Sounds huge? Not compared to what’s been lost.”

He wasn’t just talking to cameras or colleagues. He was talking to conscience. “Justice is planetary,” he added. “Those who burned the coal and oil must clean the air.”

Then came the harder part—the money trail. Who holds it? Who spends it? He listed them: the Global Environment Facility, the Green Climate Fund, and the new Loss and Damage Fund created in Egypt back in COP27. “Use these,” he insisted. “No more sneaky bilateral deals. No loans disguised as help.”

The labour movement wants money to go where the smoke rises and the sweat drips—the workplaces. Into retraining programs for clean‑energy jobs. Into proper healthcare for workers in polluted zones like the Niger Delta. Into social protection, unemployment benefits, early retirement where needed. “You can’t green the planet by punishing the people,” he said quietly.

As the talk widened, the African angle appeared. What role should the African Union play before delegates head to Brazil? Asuzu didn’t pause. “Huge one,” he said. “The AU already has machinery—the African Ministerial Conference on Environment, AMCEN, plus our negotiators at the African Group of Negotiators. But they must speak one firm voice. For once.”

He explained that unions, under the ITUC‑Africa umbrella, are now working closely with those institutions. In Dar es Salaam, trade unions from across the continent met to streamline their demands. First: energy sovereignty. Africa can’t talk transition without power. “We need affordable, public energy to drive our industries green,” he added. Second: cancel the debt. Without that, no space to breathe or build. Third: reparations. Because, again, Africa didn’t cause the problem but pays the price.

These aren’t fancy lines for a communique—they’re survival calls. For farmers whose lands dry too fast. For oilfield workers falling ill. For markets flooded by waters they didn’t invite.

Across the hall, you could sense a mixture of frustration and faith. They know the odds are high, but so are the stakes. Asuzu leaned back a bit, perhaps tired, but hopeful. “When trade unions speak,” he said, “we speak for workers, yes. But also for humanity. Because no one survives a world that burns unevenly.”

He’s right. COP30 will decide more than policies. It will test promises, empathy, and the willingness of the powerful to listen to those who actually live the crisis every day.