In 2023, a series of high-profile agreements between African governments and a relatively obscure UAE-based company, Blue Carbon, promised to position Africa at the centre of global carbon trading. Framed as innovative partnerships under Article 6 of the Paris Agreement, these memoranda of understanding aimed to generate carbon credits by preserving vast tracts of forests across countries such as Liberia, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Kenya, Nigeria, and Tanzania. The carbon credits would be marketed to major polluters seeking to offset emissions, thereby contributing to international climate mitigation efforts.
The scale of the agreements was considerable. Liberia’s deal covered approximately one million hectares—roughly ten percent of the country’s total landmass. Zimbabwe’s proposed agreement spanned 7.5 million hectares, reportedly encompassing nearly 20 percent of its territory. Similar expansive coverage was noted in Zambia and Tanzania, each with agreements totalling 8 million hectares. These projects, ostensibly grounded in the REDD+ framework—Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and Forest Degradation—were touted as mutually beneficial: preserving biodiversity, fostering sustainable development, and supporting local communities.
However, investigations by Agence France-Presse in collaboration with Code for Africa have revealed that these agreements have, to date, yielded no tangible outcomes. The deals appear to have stalled shortly after they were signed, with no evidence of implementation or follow-through. In Liberia, the agreement has effectively been abandoned. Elijah Whapoe, coordinator of Liberia’s National Climate Change Steering Committee, confirmed the deal had been discontinued and indicated no current effort to revive it.
Across the continent, a similar pattern has emerged. In Zimbabwe, climate officials acknowledged that while an agreement had been announced, no project proposal had been submitted, and the agreement remained at the stage of expression of interest. Zambia’s Ministry of Green Economy and Environment confirmed its memorandum of understanding with Blue Carbon had lapsed without further development. Kenya and Tanzania have yet to offer public clarifications regarding their own agreements.
Papua New Guinea, which signed a comparable agreement with Blue Carbon during the COP28 summit in Dubai, has also experienced no progress. The country’s Climate Change Authority stated that the project had not moved beyond the announcement phase. An affiliated platform, Singapore-based AirCarbon Exchange, which was to facilitate the carbon credit trading process, has likewise confirmed that its MOU with Blue Carbon has expired, with no further engagement taking place.
The absence of activity has prompted concern among environmentalists and policymakers. Blue Carbon, which launched in October 2022 under the leadership of Sheikh Ahmed Dalmook Al Maktoum of Dubai’s royal family, had positioned itself as a leading actor in the global green economy. It promised to contribute to the United Arab Emirates’ net zero ambitions while facilitating climate financing for developing nations. Yet, less than two years later, the company has disappeared from the public sphere. Its website went offline in mid-2025, social media channels have been inactive since 2023, and attempts to contact the company by email, phone, and in person have yielded no responses.
More critically, the company’s absence from major carbon market registries—including the UNFCCC, Verra, and Gold Standard—raises questions about the legitimacy of its operations. According to Code for Africa’s iLab forensic data unit, Blue Carbon has not filed the necessary documentation under Article 6.4 of the Paris Agreement to initiate formal projects. This omission, coupled with a lack of transparency around project design and revenue sharing, has led experts to describe the initiative as an example of failed carbon governance.
Environmental advocates have warned that the agreements risked undermining local land rights and bypassing community consent. In Liberia, concerns were raised almost immediately after the deal was announced. A letter from the United Nations Resident Coordinator and national development partners warned that the agreement might conflict with customary land rights and existing legal frameworks. Civil society organisations and community members echoed these warnings. James G Otto, a Liberian activist from the River Cess region, stated that outreach efforts had left communities confused and distrustful. According to Otto, communities insisted that any decision on forest use must be led by them and must align with existing rights and participatory processes.
These developments reflect a broader tension in the global carbon market: the risk of commodifying forests and ecosystems in ways that exclude those who live closest to them. While carbon credits have been heralded as a tool for financing climate adaptation in developing countries, their implementation often reveals underlying structural inequities. Projects may be announced with great fanfare, but the lack of due diligence, local engagement, and oversight can reduce them to performative gestures with little climate impact.
From a pan-African standpoint, the failure of the Blue Carbon deals underscores the need for stronger African-led climate governance frameworks. African governments must ensure that any partnerships entered into under the guise of environmental cooperation reflect the continent’s legal standards, community land tenure systems, and development priorities. The continent possesses vast forest resources and biodiversity which, if protected and managed with integrity, could serve both ecological and socio-economic goals. However, this requires that Africa be not merely a participant in carbon markets but a co-author of their rules and values.
As the climate crisis intensifies and the global push for net zero accelerates, the importance of inclusive, transparent, and enforceable carbon governance becomes ever more urgent. The Blue Carbon saga offers a cautionary tale. It reminds both African states and the international community that carbon credit schemes cannot succeed through opacity or opportunism. They must be rooted in accountability, community ownership, and shared benefit.
As Dr Injy Johnstone of Oxford University aptly concluded, the lessons emerging from this case highlight the essential need for environmental integrity, verifiable standards, and mutual accountability in carbon credit transactions. Without these safeguards, such schemes risk becoming little more than empty promises—vanishing into what she termed ‘hot air’.
