For more than two decades, Amar Guriro has been telling stories most of us never stop long enough to see. Not because they aren’t important, but because they don’t arrive with urgency. They seep in slowly; a forest thinning out over years, a river turning undrinkable, a village learning to live without water, and so on. In a media landscape that thrives on immediacy, these are precisely the kinds of stories that slip through the cracks. But Guriro has built a career on refusing to let them disappear.
If you look closely at his body of work, a pattern begins to emerge, not just in the places he reports from, but in what he chooses to prioritise. Guriro has written about forests in Sindh disappearing over the span of decades, about cities edging toward peak greenhouse gas emissions as populations swell and economies expand, and about Karachi’s water crisis as something lived daily rather than debated abstractly. His reporting has explored how women in deltaic regions bear the disproportionate burden of water scarcity, how riverside villages in Gilgit-Baltistan can exist alongside water and yet remain thirsty, and how rising sea levels are steadily encroaching upon the Indus Delta.
Across deserts, coastlines, wetlands, and mountains, his work returns to the same underlying question: what does environmental change actually look like when you live inside it? It looks like herders in Himalayan meadows adjusting to shifting grazing patterns. It looks like fragile desert wetlands inching toward disappearance. It looks like coal expansion in Thar bringing illness and displacement rather than opportunity. It looks like contaminated water turning into a public health crisis. It looks like heat that is no longer seasonal, but relentless. These are not isolated incidents. They are pieces of a much larger story…one that has irreversible consequences.
This week, FLWL speaks with Amar Guriro about documenting the lived realities of climate change, the resilience of overlooked communities, and reimagining journalism in the age of AI.
When you look back at the media landscape of the early 2000s and compare it with today, what do you feel has changed the most — not just technologically, but in the spirit of journalism itself?
When I entered journalism in the early 2000s, the newsroom culture was very different. News moved slowly, editors had more authority, and reporters spent more time in the field, sometimes even days, before filing a story. Technology has changed that dramatically. Today news travels instantly through digital platforms and social media, and journalists are expected to publish faster than ever. But the deeper change is in the spirit of journalism. Earlier, journalism was driven mainly by editorial judgment and public interest. Today it is increasingly influenced by algorithms, audience metrics and the pressure of constant visibility. This has created both opportunities and risks.
While technology has expanded the reach of journalism, it has also made it more challenging to protect accuracy, fact check, depth and independence. For me, the core spirit of journalism still lies in field reporting, verification and telling stories that truly matter to society.
Your reporting has consistently focused on underreported regions and environmental issues. What first drew you toward stories that exist outside the mainstream news cycle?
Early in my career, I realised that many of the most important stories were happening far from the headlines. Mainstream newsrooms often focus on politics, power centres and major cities, while vast regions and communities remain largely invisible in the national conversation. When I started travelling and reporting from smaller towns and rural areas, I saw how environmental change, water scarcity, displacement and poverty were shaping people’s lives, yet these realities rarely appeared in the media.
That experience drew me toward underreported regions. I felt journalism should not only reflect the voices of those who are already heard but also bring forward the experiences of communities living at the margins. Reporting from these places requires patience and fieldwork, but it often reveals deeper, more meaningful stories about society, environment and resilience that otherwise remain unseen.
Over the years you’ve reported for a wide range of national and international outlets. Was there a particular assignment that proved especially challenging — one that tested you both professionally and emotionally?
One assignment that stayed with me deeply was reporting from communities facing extreme environmental stress, particularly in remote and marginalized regions. In such places, journalism is not just about gathering facts, it is about witnessing how environmental change reshapes everyday life. I remember working in settlements where people struggled with severe heat, water scarcity, and fragile livelihoods. Professionally, the challenge was to report responsibly and accurately in conditions where information is limited and access can be difficult. Emotionally, it was harder because you are listening to people whose hardships are not temporary but part of their daily reality. As a journalist you must maintain professional distance, yet those stories stay with you. Experiences like these remind me that journalism is not only about reporting events but also about documenting the human consequences of larger global changes.
On the other hand, which story or reporting journey remains the most memorable or rewarding for you, the one that still stays with you years later?
One reporting journey that remains especially memorable for me was travelling to remote mountain regions to report on communities living in the shadow of Glacial Outburst Floods (GLOF) caused by melting glaciers. In those high valleys, people spoke about glacial lakes forming above their villages and the constant fear that one day the water could burst and sweep away homes, fields and roads. What stayed with me was the resilience of those communities. Many of them depend on livestock, small farms and fragile mountain ecosystems for survival, yet they are among the least responsible for the climate crisis. Listening to their stories made me realise how climate change is not just a scientific phenomenon but a lived reality that is already reshaping cultures and livelihoods. That journey was rewarding because it reminded me why journalism matters, it allows distant and often invisible communities to be seen and heard beyond their valleys.
Environmental journalism often involves documenting slow-moving crises that don’t always command headlines. How do you approach telling these stories in ways that make people pay attention?
Environmental crises often unfold slowly, which makes them harder to capture in the fast pace of daily news. My approach has always been to tell these stories through the lives of people who are directly experiencing the change. Instead of presenting climate change only through statistics or scientific reports, I focus on how it affects livelihoods, culture and everyday survival. When readers meet a fisherman whose catch is declining, a herder whose grazing lands are changing, or a village facing water scarcity, the story becomes real and relatable.
Field reporting is also essential. Spending time with communities helps uncover details that numbers alone cannot explain. I try to connect local experiences with the larger environmental process behind them, so readers understand both the human story and the broader issue. In that way, slow-moving crises become visible and meaningful to a wider audience.
After working with major publications, you recently stepped away to launch Saga Digital AI. What was the moment or realisation that convinced you it was time to build your own platform?
After many years working with different newsrooms, I gradually realised that the media landscape was changing faster than traditional institutions could adapt. Digital technology, artificial intelligence and new storytelling formats were opening possibilities that conventional journalism was slow to explore. At the same time, I felt there were many important stories about culture, history and society that were not finding space in mainstream media.
The idea behind Saga Digital grew from that realisation. I wanted to experiment with new ways of storytelling that combine journalism, history and digital tools, including AI, to reach wider audiences, especially younger viewers who consume information differently today. Launching the platform was not about leaving journalism but about expanding its possibilities. Saga Digital AI allows me to tell stories in new formats and explore subjects that might otherwise remain outside the traditional newsroom agenda.
Saga Digital AI experiments with technologies like AI presenters and digital storytelling formats. Why did you decide to incorporate AI into journalism rather than remain within traditional formats?
I see artificial intelligence not as a replacement for journalism, but as a tool that can expand how stories are told. Traditional journalism relies heavily on text, while audiences today increasingly engage with visual and digital formats. AI allows us to experiment with new ways of presenting information, whether through AI presenters, visual explainers or narrative videos that make complex subjects easier to understand.
When I started Saga Digital AI, the idea was to explore how technology could help journalism reach audiences who may not read long articles but are willing to watch, listen and engage with stories in different formats. AI makes it possible to produce storytelling that is both informative and accessible, while still grounded in research and journalistic values. For me, incorporating AI is about adapting journalism to changing media habits while keeping the core purpose of informing the public intact.
Some people worry that AI might dilute authenticity in journalism. How do you see AI functioning — as a replacement for journalists, or as a tool that expands how stories can be told?
I see AI very clearly as a tool, not a replacement for journalists. Journalism is built on human judgment, curiosity, ethical responsibility and the ability to understand complex social realities. No technology can replace the experience of being on the ground, talking to people, and interpreting events within their human context. What AI can do is expand the ways stories are produced and presented. It can help create visual explainers, translate information into different formats and reach audiences who consume news through digital platforms rather than traditional articles. In that sense, AI can strengthen storytelling and accessibility, but the core of journalism must still come from human reporting, verification and editorial judgment. The responsibility for truth and credibility will always remain with journalists, not with algorithms.
As someone who has reported extensively on climate change and environmental challenges, what concerns you most about the trajectory the world — and particularly South Asia — seems to be heading toward?
What concerns me most is the widening gap between the scale of the climate crisis and the pace of our response. In South Asia, millions of people live in regions that are already extremely vulnerable to climate change, whether it is rising temperatures, water scarcity, floods or sea-level rise. These changes are no longer distant projections, they are already reshaping livelihoods, agriculture and migration patterns.
The troubling part is that the communities facing the harshest impacts are often the ones with the least resources to adapt. Many rural and coastal populations depend directly on natural systems that are becoming increasingly unstable. Without stronger regional cooperation, better planning and greater investment in adaptation, the social and economic consequences could become far more severe in the coming decades. Climate change is not just an environmental challenge for South Asia, it is increasingly becoming a question of development, stability and human security.
You’ve also mentored young journalists over the years. What advice do you now give to reporters entering a profession that is rapidly being reshaped by technology? Do they have a future in journalism, especially now, with AI avatars, writing tools, etc?
Yes, I believe young journalists absolutely have a future in this profession, even in a time when technology and AI are transforming the media landscape. Every major technological shift has raised similar fears, but the core of journalism has always remained human. Curiosity, critical thinking, ethical judgment and the ability to understand people and societies are qualities that no machine can replace. What I often tell young reporters is that technology should be seen as a tool rather than a threat. AI, data tools and digital platforms can help journalists work more efficiently and present stories in new ways, but the foundation of journalism is still reporting, verification and credibility. Those who combine strong reporting skills with an openness to new technologies will be in the strongest position. The profession is evolving, but its purpose, to inform society and hold power accountable, remains just as important as ever.
Is there anything you’re currently working on that you’d like to share with us?
At the moment, my focus is on developing Saga Digital AI as a platform for experimental storytelling. The idea is to explore how journalism, history and cultural narratives can be presented through new digital formats, including AI-based presenters and visual explainers. We are gradually building content that brings lesser known stories, historical contexts and social issues to wider audiences in an engaging way.
Alongside that, I continue to remain interested in long-form reporting on environmental and social issues that are often overlooked in mainstream coverage. For me, the goal is to balance traditional field reporting with new digital storytelling approaches. Saga Digital AI is still evolving, but the broader vision is to create a space where journalism can adapt to new technologies while still staying rooted in credible reporting.