For sisters Poeva, 18, and Akesa, 13, memories of their home country of Tuvalu are filled with warmth, coconut trees, and days spent swimming and fishing in the Pacific. But beneath the idyllic lifestyle lies a harsh reality: their island nation is slowly disappearing under rising sea levels, forcing families to make the heartbreaking decision to leave everything behind.

Now living in the regional South Australian town of Naracoorte, the sisters are among a growing number of Tuvaluans rebuilding their lives on higher ground. "Climate change is affecting Tuvalu, so moving here makes us feel safer about our future," Poeva says. "Strong winds have been destroying our houses, and the rising sea is flooding everywhere. I don’t want to see my country disappear."

A Nation on the Frontlines of Climate Change

Tuvalu, a stunning archipelago of nine low-lying islands located about 4,000 kilometers northeast of Australia, is home to approximately 11,000 people. However, with its highest point sitting just 4.5 meters above sea level, the country is uniquely vulnerable to the warming planet. Experts project that by 2050, up to half of the capital city, Funafuti, could be regularly flooded. Coastal erosion, soil salinization, and increasingly violent storms have already made growing traditional fresh produce nearly impossible, leading some scientists to predict the islands could be entirely uninhabitable by 2100.

In response to this existential crisis, Tuvalu’s leadership secured a landmark bilateral agreement with Australia in 2023 known as the Falepili Union. Under this pact, Australia has committed millions of dollars to assist with climate adaptation and security, while establishing a specialized visa pathway allowing up to 280 Tuvaluans to relocate to Australia each year. The demand is staggering: last year, over 8,000 of Tuvalu's 11,000 citizens applied for the program.

Replanting Roots in Regional South Australia

Among the first to receive a visa under the scheme was Pastor Manu Puafolau, who now resides in Naracoorte alongside a small diaspora of about 30 Tuvaluans, including Poeva and Akesa. For Pastor Puafolau, adjusting to a landlocked regional life after a lifetime surrounded by the ocean has been a massive transition.

"Every day we woke up, the ocean was just beside you, right or left," he recalls. "But climate change is real, and the things happening at home are devastating. The land is being taken out by the sea."

While safety and economic opportunities are welcome, the pastor explains that the local diaspora is deeply concerned with preserving their unique heritage. "Culture is life," Pastor Puafolau says. "Without culture, you cannot navigate in this life—at least, from a Tuvaluan perspective. It is a completely different world here in Australia."

Keeping the Culture Alive

In Tuvalu, communal life revolves around the falekaupule—traditional meeting houses where elders pass down vital knowledge, customs, and survival skills like fishing and cultivation to the younger generation. Replicating this cultural infrastructure in regional South Australia presents a unique challenge.

"You really need to maintain your way of living so that you can be identified as a Tuvaluan person," Pastor Puafolau says, noting that the community in Naracoorte gathers regularly to ensure their children do not lose touch with their roots as they integrate into Australian school life.

For young residents like Akesa, the transition has had its hurdles. She admits to struggling with the cooler South Australian weather, missing friends who have scattered to Fiji or New Zealand, and fearing the loss of her native language. Yet, her older sister Poeva remains fiercely determined to keep their heritage thriving at home.

"We strongly maintain our language and other traditional culture in our house so we don't forget our Tuvaluan life," Poeva says. "I just hope people understand that we moved here for safety and opportunities—not because we wanted to leave our culture behind."