Why the Second Africa Climate Summit Should Cascade—Not “Scale Up”—Carbon Credits to Grass-Roots Communities

 

By Henry Neondo

Nairobi—As leaders, financiers and development agencies convene for the second Africa Climate Summit (ACS2) in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, one phrase buzzes across plenary halls and press briefings: “scale up carbon markets.”

The promise sounds irresistible—billions in new finance, speedy emissions reductions, nature conserved and millions of climate-exposed grassroot communities across much of Africa enhance their resilience to climate change.

But from the vantage point of pastoralists in Samburu, fisherfolk on Lake Turkana, smallholders in Busia and peri-urban households in Kisumu’s informal settlements, the language of “scale up” feels top-down, extractive and—too often—empty.

Africa does need climate finance. What we don’t need is another rush for offsets that bypasses the very communities that have guarded Africa’s forests, rangelands and mangroves for generations.

ACS2 is a pivotal moment to correct course. Instead of “scaling up” credits, the summit should commit to cascading carbon benefits—money, decision-making power, and verified rights—down to the ward, village and household levels where climate resilience is won or lost.

“Scaling up” vs. “Cascading”: Why words matter

In policy rooms, “scale up” typically means aggregating projects to attract large buyers and lower transaction costs. That’s efficient for markets but risky for justice: when carbon assets are bundled far from the land, the people closest to the resource lose visibility—and leverage.

“Cascading,” by contrast, flips the logic. It starts from the ground up: clarify tenure; build community institutions; establish transparent benefit-sharing; and then connect projects to buyers. Finance still flows, but its path runs through communities rather than around them. Revenues spill down like a series of terraces—first to customary owners and frontline stewards—before they reach county coffers or project developers’ spreadsheets.

The problem with business-as-usual carbon markets

Across the continent, communities tell us the same story: “Opaque contracts, unclear rights involved in land carbon tenures are often unsettled or poorly documented. Communities sign away rights without understanding long-term implications or the value of credits in rising markets.

Second, benefit-sharing as is often viewed as an afterthought given that too many projects often publish elegant benefit-sharing plans on paper that never translate into budgets, receipts, or ward-level projects. When payments come, they are small, late, or captured by elites.

Large-scale investors often exclude communities in monitoring their projects where drones, satellites and consultants come and go, and hardly consider women’s groups, herder associations and beach management units. These communities can play these roles and all that is needed is to give them training, jobs or data access to co-monitor the resources they depend on.

The worst however is that when prices fall or methodologies change, local people—who altered land use to meet carbon rules—bear the shock, while intermediaries move on to the next venture.

This is why a “scale up” mantra rings hollow in villages where boreholes fail, grasslands shrink, and youth can’t find work. Without guardrails, bigger markets will just magnify these gaps.

A Kenyan lens - what cascading could look like

Kenya has the ingredients to lead with a cascade approach: devolved governance through counties and wards, active community forest and wildlife associations, and a vibrant civil society. In Samburu’s Kalama conservancy, for example, elders, youth and women’s groups already manage grazing plans, patrol wildlife corridors and maintain social rules that keep rangelands healthy—a precondition for credible carbon sequestration. In Busia, smallholders in climate-smart horticulture clusters are experimenting with agroforestry and water harvesting that can lock carbon in soils while improving incomes.

Imagine if ACS2 catalyzed a national “cascade protocol” anchored in these realities

Tenure first. Counties, customary institutions and communities receive technical and legal support to map and document communal and household tenure—land, trees, and carbon rights—before any project registry is engaged.

Community-owned project vehicles. Every project has a community special purpose vehicle (SPV) with majority representation from local associations (women, youth, pastoralist/hunter-gatherer groups, farmers). The SPV signs contracts, holds a share of issuance rights, and receives funds directly.

Ward-level benefit accounts. Revenues flow into ring-fenced ward accounts with simple, public dashboards: what came in, what was spent, on what, and who approved it. A fixed percentage—say 60%—must reach ward-level priorities identified through participatory budgeting.

Local monitoring jobs. At least half of all monitoring, reporting and verification (MRV) roles go to trained community para-ecologists and youth enumerators. Data is shared back in local languages and formats that communities can use to adaptively manage land.

Social safeguards with teeth. Independent grievance mechanisms sit within counties but are co-governed by civil society and traditional authorities, with clear timelines and sanctions.

Price floors and shock absorbers. Contracts include minimum price clauses and reserve funds so communities don’t lose out when global markets wobble.

None of these steps slow finance; they stabilize it. Markets love predictability. Communities love dignity. Cascading provides both.

Follow the money—downwards

In many offset deals, 10–30% of revenues make it to the ground. A cascade standard would invert that ratio: no project qualifies unless at least 60–70% of net proceeds reach communities, with a further breakdown: direct household dividends, public goods (water, health, education), and livelihood support (climate-smart agriculture, livestock insurance, women’s enterprise funds). The remainder covers project operations, independent MRV, and County-level enabling functions.

Transparency is non-negotiable. Every shilling should be traceable from buyer to borehole. Publish-what-you-pay for carbon is as essential as it is for oil, gas and mining—arguably more so, because carbon trade claims to be a climate justice tool.

Methodologies must fit African ecologies—and social realities

Grass-roots stewards in drylands know that rangelands breathe with the seasons. Overly rigid methodologies that penalize mobility or impose uniform stocking rates can harm both people and ecosystems. Similarly, smallholder agroforestry gains can be real, but they’re fragile if tree survival drops in prolonged droughts.

Women at the center—or nothing changes

Women are often the least visible and most affected by climate stress. They walk farther for water, manage household energy, and feed families under budget shocks. Cascading means women are not just beneficiaries, but co-owners of projects.

Counties as enablers, not gatekeepers

Devolution is one of Kenya’s great strengths. But counties should resist the temptation to centralize carbon revenues. Their role is to set enabling bylaws, provide technical support, certify participatory processes, and co-host grievance mechanisms—not to absorb community shares. Where counties do receive a portion, it should be tied to services that directly strengthen community climate action: extension, water infrastructure, rangeland restoration, and local MRV training.

From pilots to a continental playbook

Critics will say cascading is slow. We disagree. Africa already has dozens of community conservancies, farmer field schools, beach management units, water resource user associations, and ward development committees that can be repurposed for carbon governance almost immediately. Rather than invent new entities, ACS2 should fund a light-touch continental playbook that counties and communities can adapt:

What success looks like in three years

If ACS2 embraces cascading, here’s what we expect by the time leaders gather again, tens of thousands of community members would be trained and paid as para-monitors and stewards. Further, there would verified increases in household income tied to carbon dividends and micro-grants, reduced conflict over grazing and forest access as transparent rules gain legitimacy and county plans that align carbon revenue with climate-resilient public goods—water, health, and education. And why not, Africa would become known not just for carbon potential, but for community-led climate finance integrity.

A fair deal for a fair climate

The climate crisis is not an abstraction in Africa. It’s a late rain, a failed harvest, a dried riverbed, a school closed because the borehole broke. Communities cannot eat promises or drink press releases. They can, however, build powerful resilience when fairly financed and respected as rights-holders.

So let ACS2 be remembered not for glossy declarations about scaling markets, but for a grounded commitment to cascade climate finance to where it does the best—and to whom it is long overdue. That means anchoring carbon projects in secure rights, transparent accounts, local jobs, fit-for-purpose methodologies, and women’s leadership.

Africa’s landscapes have served the world’s climate for centuries. It is time the world served Africa’s communities in return—from the top tables to the last mile.