
Photo courtesy: Kunduz Adylbekova
In the highlands of Kyrgyzstan, where yaks once roamed freely across ancestral pastures, a quiet but determined youth movement is stirring. At the heart of it is Kunduz, a young pastoralist and activist, whose journey began not with policy or protest, but with the stories of her grandfather.
“My grandfather had many yaks,” she recalls. “He was a respected pastoralist during the Soviet era. But everything he worked for—his land, his livestock—was taken. After privatization, even the land he once cared for was no longer his.”

Grazing horses in the Kyrgyz steppes
Photo Courtesy: Jason Taylor
That loss would shape Kunduz’s understanding of justice, identity, and the deep connection between people and land.
Now in her twenties, Kunduz stands at the crossroads of tradition and transformation. She speaks not just for herself, but for a generation of Central Asian youth caught in a whirlwind of political change, climate crisis, and economic migration.
“Geopolitics affects us deeply,” she explains. “In Central Asia, we’re surrounded by powerful neighbors—Russia, China—and global power shifts influence everything, from land policies to local livelihoods. Youth are facing both internal and external migration pressures. Many leave their rural homes to seek better opportunities abroad, especially in Russia. But this migration comes at a cost—our families lose access to pastures, to land, to our cultural roots.”
Kunduz describes how land reforms have slowly eroded local control, stripping communities of their rights to use and manage pastures. “Even though we don’t own the land, we’ve always used it. But now, even that access is vanishing. Our traditional pastoral systems are under threat.”
Yet amidst these challenges, she finds hope. Attending a regional land forum, Kunduz was inspired by youth from South and Southeast Asia who are using data and community mapping to expose land grabbing and push for policy reforms. “They collect evidence at the grassroots level—on land ownership, on displacement—and use it to influence policymakers. That’s the kind of action we need in Central Asia.”
Her own organization, the National Pasture Users’ Association, is making strides. “We’re advocating for legal recognition of youth in pasture user groups. Not just as a token, but as real participants in decision-making. It’s time young people have a seat at the table.”
Innovation is also part of their toolkit. In the arid mountains of Kyrgyzstan, where access to water is becoming increasingly scarce, Kunduz and her peers are helping introduce artificial glaciers—man-made ice reserves that slowly melt through the dry season, providing essential water for livestock and crops. “These glaciers aren’t high-tech,” she says. “They’re handmade by youth. It’s an example of how traditional knowledge and innovation can come together to solve local problems.”
Kunduz sees education and storytelling as essential to building a new consciousness among Central Asian youth. “Our parents grew up in the Soviet system. They were taught to obey the central government, not to question. But our generation has more tools, more knowledge, and more rights. We need to be brave and change our mindset. This isn’t about individual land ownership anymore. We’re fighting for community-managed land. For future generations.”
For Kunduz, land is more than territory—it’s memory, livelihood, and the foundation of dignity. “Losing land is like losing your future,” she says. “You can make money, but if you don’t have land, you have no power to negotiate, to build a future for your children.”
Her message to fellow youth is simple but powerful: get involved, however you can. “You don’t need to start with policies. Start with conversation. Join local initiatives, come to community meetings. If there aren’t spaces, create them. Talk to people your age. Learn your history. Share your story.”

Village community members cleaning the reserve and prepare soil for seeds
She emphasizes the importance of using social media and accessible campaigns to reach youth who may be too busy or economically pressured to attend workshops. “Young people want to contribute, but many are working to support their families. That’s why outreach must be creative—videos, storytelling, online discussions. It’s not just about participation, but leadership.”
Today, some of the youth Kunduz has mentored are leading glacier projects, applying for community loans, and even influencing local government decisions. “These are small but powerful steps,” she says. “It proves that when young people are given knowledge and space, they can change their communities.”
From her grandfather’s pastures to the icy slopes of artificial glaciers, Kunduz is bridging the past and the future—carrying the voices of her ancestors forward while planting seeds of action for the next generation.
“This is our time,” she says. “To reclaim our rights, our land, and our future.”

