Islamabad has hosted many conferences, but the Growing Green Investor Outreach held on 28 August was different. It was not just another policy seminar. It was the first time Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP) placed its forests on the global stage as a serious contender in the rapidly growing carbon markets. The event, led by the KP Climate Change and Forestry Department with support from international partners, unveiled three major forest-based project packages spanning Hazara, Malakand, and Dera Ismail Khan. Together, they cover hundreds of thousands of hectares over the next four decades. The purpose is clear: to trade carbon credits by capturing carbon dioxide through forest conservation, management, and expansion. In simpler terms, KP is offering the world a chance to pay for what its forests do best—absorbing carbon and breathing life back into the planet.
This shift in thinking deserves recognition. For too long, forests in Pakistan have been viewed merely as timber to be cut or land to be cleared. But now, under the determined leadership of Shahid Zaman, Secretary for Climate Change, Forestry, Environment & Wildlife, KP is charting a different path. His campaign against the timber mafia—fought with quiet persistence despite powerful resistance—has given these forests a chance at survival.
The numbers presented were promising. Forests in KP can generate over five tonnes of carbon credits per hectare each year, conservatively priced at seven dollars per tonne. But while such figures excite investors, one must look deeper. The true test of these projects will not be measured in dollars or carbon units but in the lives of the people who live in and around these forests.
Success will not be declared at conferences or in glossy brochures; it will be measured by whether the people of KP’s forests feel included, respected, and better off
As former forester Alamgir Gandapur wisely noted, what experts often call the “co-benefit”—community uplift—is in fact the core benefit. Forests cannot survive if those who depend on them are excluded from the benefits of conservation. Local communities are not outsiders to be managed; they are the custodians who have protected these lands for generations.
Here lies the caution. Pakistan has a troubling history of sidelining its people when it comes to natural resources. From coal to gas, wealth has been extracted, but those living on the land have seen little beyond displacement and broken promises. If KP repeats this mistake with its carbon market ventures, the consequences will be severe—socially, morally, and environmentally.
The example of Sindh’s mangroves—now the world’s largest carbon credit project—was rightly highlighted at the conference. KP can, and should, follow that success. But it must go a step further by ensuring legal frameworks that guarantee benefit-sharing for local and indigenous communities. Groups like the Kalash, whose heritage is tied to the mountains and forests, must not be reduced to relics of culture while others profit from their land.
History offers sobering lessons. One cannot help but recall how Native Americans in the United States were pushed aside in the name of progress, left to live as strangers on their own soil. Pakistan must resist repeating such injustices under the banner of climate action.
KP’s entry into the carbon market is a turning point. It is an opportunity to show the world that climate finance can be about more than profits—it can be about justice, dignity, and sustainability. If pursued with vision, these projects can deliver a triple dividend: fighting climate change, improving livelihoods, and securing the province’s ecological future.
But let us be clear: success will not be declared at conferences or in glossy brochures; it will be measured by whether the people of KP’s forests feel included, respected, and better off. Only then will this bold initiative deserve to be called a true green revolution.
