By Vero Henintsoa Andriamiarisoa
Hope finds me in silence, glittering and arching across the sky after the storm. As the heavy rain cleared over New Jersey, a thin golden light slipped through the clouds, and a double rainbow stretched across the Hudson River.
From my window in Edgewater, I stood still and watched its arc resting over Manhattan. C’est magnifique! Tsara be! Mesmerized, I captured and immortalized that moment, a bridge of color between storm and sunlight.
That sight instantly brought me back to my childhood and carried me 8,000 miles away to my home city, Antananarivo, Madagascar. When we were kids, rainy days kept my brothers and me indoors, gazing at rainbows over the Lac de Mandroseza, a lake close to our family house.
Each one was more than color. It was a promise that light will always return. Like Noah’s story in the Bible, rainbows reminded us that light follows even the fiercest storm, and hope endures.
Years later, hope feels deeply personal, as my beloved country, Madagascar, is constantly facing the harsh reality of climate change and living in a state of adaptation. Rising sea levels erode our coasts, prolonged droughts dry up rivers, violent cyclones destroy infrastructure, and shifting seasons unravel traditional farming, leading to hunger crises.
Working for the Foreign Ministry for a while, I negotiated to get urgent appeals for cyclone relief or hunger crises funded.
In 2019, I moved to the U.S., honored and delighted to be appointed to represent my country at the United Nations in New York. Amplifying the voice of my small country in this global arena and negotiating on issues like desertification, sea level rise, global warming, protection of endemic species, and marine pollution was a dream fulfilled, until life’s path, like weather, changed course unexpectedly.
For personal reasons, I had to remain in the U.S., putting aside the career I had built and starting over. This unforeseen turn and the transition felt like a quiet heartbreak. There were days I felt lost, questioning my choices and longing for home. I missed the sense of purpose I found in serving my country and the comfort of knowing my work mattered.
In that difficult silence, I began to rediscover myself. Yet in those moments of doubt, I discovered new strengths. I learned to embrace uncertainty, step out of my comfort zone, rebuild without a clear roadmap, keep walking even when the future felt uncertain, and find meaning in small victories. I invested in myself, exploring and learning new skills in the better use of renewable energy, adaptation, climate ambition, and climate justice, determined to one day bring them back to Madagascar.
My “second start” helped me accept that growth often comes from discomfort. It demanded the same resilience I learned from my community after every natural disaster: to adapt, to rebuild, and to keep moving forward with purpose while carrying hope, even when circumstances shift beneath your feet.
Now, every rainbow reminds me that renewal is always possible. I carry with me the lessons of resilience from my homeland and the belief that even far from home, I can still make a difference. I often reflect on how my journey, marked by detours and doubt, has shaped me into someone more hopeful than before. I hold onto the promise that my experiences, both painful and joyful, will one day help me serve my country and my community. Actor Christopher Reeve’s insight echoes in my heart: “Once you choose hope, anything’s possible.”
Vero is a former journalist and career diplomat with expertise in diplomacy, sustainable development, advocacy and communications. Having served her country at the United Nations in New York, she is now navigating a career transition shaped by climate concern, reflection, and a belief in meaningful change.