How much water
does nature need?
does nature need?
A Gazeta report from five protected areas of the Lower Amu Darya and Aral Sea region, where the future of entire ecosystems depends on water
In 2025, Uzbekistan's new Water Code introduced the concept of environmental flow for the first time, establishing a guaranteed water allocation for natural ecosystems. Gazeta journalist Orifjon Khoshimov traveled through five protected areas of the Lower Amu Darya and the Aral Sea region to see how water scarcity is reshaping lakes and tugay forests, and why environmental flows are becoming a matter of survival.
In 2025, Uzbekistan's new Water Code introduced the concept of environmental flow for the first time, establishing a guaranteed water allocation for natural ecosystems. Gazeta journalist Orifjon Khoshimov traveled through five protected areas of the Lower Amu Darya and the Aral Sea region to see how water scarcity is reshaping lakes and tugay forests, and why environmental flows are becoming a matter of survival.
For years, the ecosystems of the Aral Sea region have been last in line. Water reaches them only after agriculture, industries, and cities have taken their share. Lakes are drying up, and tugay forests are thinning because wildlife has no guaranteed allocation.
Uzbekistan is now trying to change that. The mechanism at the center of this effort is the mandatory environmental flow: a legally required volume of water set aside not for irrigation, but to maintain the ecological balance of entire landscapes, keep plants alive, and sustain animal habitats. In 2025, this became binding law for the first time, codified in Article 122 of Uzbekistan's new Water Code.
Uzbekistan is now trying to change that. The mechanism at the center of this effort is the mandatory environmental flow: a legally required volume of water set aside not for irrigation, but to maintain the ecological balance of entire landscapes, keep plants alive, and sustain animal habitats. In 2025, this became binding law for the first time, codified in Article 122 of Uzbekistan's new Water Code.
The National Committee on Ecology and Climate Change of Uzbekistan, together with UNDP and the Global Environment Facility, organized a three-day media expedition under the Aral Sea Wetlands project to raise awareness of the issue. Gazeta joined the group. The expedition's primary goal is to ensure that environmental flow requirements are embedded in secondary legislation and applied in practice.
The route runs through the Bukhara and Khorezm regions and Karakalpakstan, taking in five specially protected natural areas — from Lake Dengizkul to Sudochye, on the edge of what was once the Aral Sea. Every site tells the same story: water is still there, but less of it with each passing year. Scientists who have spent decades studying these ecosystems traveled with the group, joined at each location by inspectors, forest rangers, and the directors of the protected areas.
Our first stop is Lake Dengizkul.
Our first stop is Lake Dengizkul.
Dengizkul
The asphalt ends sooner than expected. The road from Bukhara heads southwest toward the Alatsky district, approaching the Turkmenistan border. The landscape shifts gradually. Сotton fields and vineyards give way to salt flats and scattered saxaul trees. The vehicle raises a trail of dust that lingers in the still air long after it passes.
Looking out across this vast, dry plain, it is difficult to imagine that somewhere out here lies Dengizkul, a lake so large that locals used to call it a sea. It once covered 50,000 hectares. Today, according to Makhmud Roziyev, a cadastral specialist at the Alatsky State Forestry, that figure has fallen to around 25,000.
When Dengizkul finally comes into view, the water surface is blinding. A pale crust of salt, resembling snow, lines the shore. The wind carries the thick, stagnant smell of sun-warmed silt.
Looking out across this vast, dry plain, it is difficult to imagine that somewhere out here lies Dengizkul, a lake so large that locals used to call it a sea. It once covered 50,000 hectares. Today, according to Makhmud Roziyev, a cadastral specialist at the Alatsky State Forestry, that figure has fallen to around 25,000.
When Dengizkul finally comes into view, the water surface is blinding. A pale crust of salt, resembling snow, lines the shore. The wind carries the thick, stagnant smell of sun-warmed silt.
The lake has no fixed shoreline. Its level and surface area shift with the seasons. When full, it holds more than two billion cubic meters of water.
According to Malika Ikramova, Doctor of Technical Sciences and water resources component lead for the Aral Sea Wetlands project, Dengizkul was once fed by the Zarafshan, a tributary of the Amu Darya. The river no longer reaches it. Today, the lake draws almost entirely from collector-drainage and filtration water, agricultural runoff that has already passed through the fields. As a result, the salt concentration is higher.
According to Malika Ikramova, Doctor of Technical Sciences and water resources component lead for the Aral Sea Wetlands project, Dengizkul was once fed by the Zarafshan, a tributary of the Amu Darya. The river no longer reaches it. Today, the lake draws almost entirely from collector-drainage and filtration water, agricultural runoff that has already passed through the fields. As a result, the salt concentration is higher.
Directing this water to Dengizkul rather than discharging it back into the river is a good compromise. It maintains the lake's water level without degrading the quality of the rivers downstream.
says Malika Ikramova.
The white salt crust along the shore is a visible indicator of high mineralization. Salinity averages 25.7 to 26.8 grams per liter, dropping to around 19.5 grams near the collector water inlets.
For comparison, seawater averages around 35 grams per liter. By that measure, Dengizkul has more in common with a sea than a freshwater lake.
The water is hard, alkaline, and rich in suspended and organic matter, including sand, clay, bacteria, and plankton.
For comparison, seawater averages around 35 grams per liter. By that measure, Dengizkul has more in common with a sea than a freshwater lake.
The water is hard, alkaline, and rich in suspended and organic matter, including sand, clay, bacteria, and plankton.
The vegetation is as hardy as the landscape itself, consisting of saxaul, wormwood, saltwort, and tamarisk. According to specialists, at the water's edge, dense reed beds serve as a natural buffer between the lake and the dry steppe. Foxes, hares, lizards, tortoises, and snakes inhabit them, all adapted to heat and salt dust.
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Dengizkul is one of the key stopover, nesting, and wintering sites for migratory birds. More than 40% of all waterfowl that winter in Uzbekistan spend the cold season here. For this reason, the lake was among the first in the country to be listed under the Ramsar Convention on wetlands, back in 2001.
Khalilulla Sherimbetov, an environmental specialist and Honored Irrigator of the Republic of Karakalpakstan with more than 45 years of experience, emphasizes that the ecological needs of lakes must be considered in water allocation decisions. Insufficient inflow results in a shrinking water surface, deteriorating habitat for birds and fish, and the degradation of shoreline ecosystems.
In 2012, a dam was built in the northwestern part of the lake to maintain water levels and reduce salinity. It addressed some of these challenges, but not the central question the expedition set out to explore. Should a guaranteed portion of water reach Dengizkul before agriculture, industry, and cities take their share?
An environmental flow is not simply a minimum volume of water. What matters is that it arrives in the right place, at the right time of year, and at the right quality. For example, in spring, when birds begin to nest
says Malika Ikramova.
We return to the vehicle, leaving behind the white salt crust and a horizon dissolving in haze. Next is the Kyzylkum Nature Reserve and a very different kind of water. Water that still flows.
Kyzylkum Nature Reserve
From Dengizkul to Kyzylkum, the road runs alongside the Amu Darya. The landscape changes with each kilometer: steppe fades into sand, and the sand ends abruptly at a green wall of tugay forest.
“Look, there is no transition at all,” says ecologist Murad Nasyrov, stopping at the boundary between the two landscapes. Desert flora and fauna, he notes, rarely border tugay forest this closely.
“Look, there is no transition at all,” says ecologist Murad Nasyrov, stopping at the boundary between the two landscapes. Desert flora and fauna, he notes, rarely border tugay forest this closely.
And this is turanga tugai (turanga being a desert species of poplar that grows in the floodplain tugay forests of Central Asia — ed.). That makes it endemic, and more than that, relict. Such forests are considered largely unchanged from the time when vast tugay stands of turanga stretched along the Amu Darya. Now only isolated patches remain.
explains Murad Nasyrov.
The Kyzylkum State Nature Reserve was founded in 1971 in the middle reaches of the Amu Darya, across the Bukhara and Khorezm regions near the Turkmenistan border. It initially covered 3,985 hectares. Today, that figure stands at 10,311 — 7,134 hectares of Kyzylkum desert and 3,177 hectares of tugay forest along the river.
“In 1972 and 1973, there was still a vast forest here. The surrounding land was cleared and plowed for cotton during those same years. The forest survived only within our territory. It’s a narrow strip of around 20 kilometers, though the tugay once extended for 60. When the forest around us disappeared, the Amu Darya began eroding the bank on the side where the trees were gone. The river used to be three kilometers from our village. Now it has come right up to it," says reserve director Mirzagali Kilichev, who has worked here for nearly 30 years — as an inspector from 1997 and director from 2000.
“In 1972 and 1973, there was still a vast forest here. The surrounding land was cleared and plowed for cotton during those same years. The forest survived only within our territory. It’s a narrow strip of around 20 kilometers, though the tugay once extended for 60. When the forest around us disappeared, the Amu Darya began eroding the bank on the side where the trees were gone. The river used to be three kilometers from our village. Now it has come right up to it," says reserve director Mirzagali Kilichev, who has worked here for nearly 30 years — as an inspector from 1997 and director from 2000.
He points to the edge of the plateau. The exposed cliff face reveals loose layers of compressed silt, a record of how water levels have shifted year by year.
“The level did not drop all at once. Slowly, year by year, which is why the bands are so even, as if cut with a knife,” Kilichev explains.
“The level did not drop all at once. Slowly, year by year, which is why the bands are so even, as if cut with a knife,” Kilichev explains.
In the reserve, tugay and desert do not simply coexist. They complement each other. Turanga, willow, oleaster, and reeds grow along the river; saxaul, cherkez, saltwort, and ephemerals cover the sands. This contrast is what makes the reserve valuable. Two unlike worlds occupy a narrow strip along the river and are home to nearly 300 vertebrate species, from fish and reptiles to large ungulates.
The reserve was established primarily to protect the Bukhara deer, or hangul. Its tracks are still visible in the dried mud.
The reserve was established primarily to protect the Bukhara deer, or hangul. Its tracks are still visible in the dried mud.
When we first started working here, there were only six individuals. Specialists at the time estimated the territory could support around 200. As the tugay forest expanded, so did the deer population. Now there are almost 300 of them
says Mirzagali Kilichev.
The Bukhara deer is far from the only rare inhabitant of the reserve. The Turkmen caracal was long considered locally extinct until a camera trap caught one on film.
The Central Asian otter was found the same way, another species thought to have disappeared. Then goitered gazelles, porcupines. They had been here all along, but went undetected for years. Technology has changed a great deal. We can now see what we could previously only assume
says Akmal Abdullayev,
project manager of the Aral Sea Wetlands.
Camera traps are just one part of the equipment the inspectors received through the Aral Sea Wetlands project. The reserve was also provided with binoculars, tents, and solar panels — everything needed to operate independently in the field for several days at a time.
Inspectors patrol year-round, but summer brings a more urgent priority: protecting the tugay forest from fire. Dry grass and reed beds can ignite in seconds, and fighting a blaze in an area more than an hour from the nearest settlement — across rough, roadless terrain — is nearly impossible. In the fire season, someone is always on watch.
Inspectors patrol year-round, but summer brings a more urgent priority: protecting the tugay forest from fire. Dry grass and reed beds can ignite in seconds, and fighting a blaze in an area more than an hour from the nearest settlement — across rough, roadless terrain — is nearly impossible. In the fire season, someone is always on watch.
The reserve's core vulnerability, however, is the same as Dengizkul's: a shortage of water. Tugay forest requires regular moisture, particularly in July and August, when turanga releases its seeds and the soil must be damp for them to germinate. Specialists say that natural floods have long ceased to reach deep into the forest.
In recent years, the Amu Darya has often dropped below the groundwater table. In some places, the river has begun to function as a collector, drawing moisture in rather than releasing it. In places where floods once sustained the forest, pumping stations now do the work. And the same question arises again. Should a guaranteed portion of river flow be directed not only to agriculture but to the preservation of natural ecosystems?
We leave the reserve at sunset, when the heat finally breaks and the deer, according to the inspectors, come out to graze at the forest edge. They never showed themselves in Kyzylkum. Our next destination is the Khorezm region, where we will find them not only in a breeding center, but in the wild, among the local tugai forests.
In recent years, the Amu Darya has often dropped below the groundwater table. In some places, the river has begun to function as a collector, drawing moisture in rather than releasing it. In places where floods once sustained the forest, pumping stations now do the work. And the same question arises again. Should a guaranteed portion of river flow be directed not only to agriculture but to the preservation of natural ecosystems?
We leave the reserve at sunset, when the heat finally breaks and the deer, according to the inspectors, come out to graze at the forest edge. They never showed themselves in Kyzylkum. Our next destination is the Khorezm region, where we will find them not only in a breeding center, but in the wild, among the local tugai forests.
Khorezm National Nature Park
In the Khorezm region, the Amu Darya spreads across an ancient delta. The vegetation that clings to a narrow strip along the bank in Kyzylkum suddenly has room to breathe. In a single day, we visit two protected areas: the Khorezm National Nature Park and the Lower Amu Darya Biosphere Reserve. The park is relatively new, while the reserve has existed for much longer — though it only recently received international status.
“There was no nature reserve or national park in Khorezm before us. Nothing of the kind existed here at all,” says Otabek Kilichev, deputy director for scientific affairs, as he meets us at the entrance.
“There was no nature reserve or national park in Khorezm before us. Nothing of the kind existed here at all,” says Otabek Kilichev, deputy director for scientific affairs, as he meets us at the entrance.
The Cabinet of Ministers signed the decree establishing the Khorezm National Nature Park in December 2019. It opened the following year.
The park began with 21,688 hectares in the ancient Amu Darya delta, spread across five districts of the Khorezm region. Last year, around five thousand hectares more were added from the Sarymay village area. So now it covers 26,718 hectares. According to Kilichev, the territory is expected to expand to 156,000 hectares — nearly six times its current size.
The park began with 21,688 hectares in the ancient Amu Darya delta, spread across five districts of the Khorezm region. Last year, around five thousand hectares more were added from the Sarymay village area. So now it covers 26,718 hectares. According to Kilichev, the territory is expected to expand to 156,000 hectares — nearly six times its current size.
This place was in poor condition before the park was established. People came for picnics, left rubbish, and cut down trees. The land had no real owner. Сonvincing people that the territory needed protection proved to be a significant challenge.
joins the conversation Khalilulla Sherimbetov, who was there from the very beginning.
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The breeding center's main resident is the Bukhara deer, the species we first heard about at the Kyzylkum reserve. There, the population has already exceeded its target. Here in Khorezm, the work of restoring it is just beginning. The first 20 individuals were brought in from other reserves and nature parks. There are now 25 in the center, with a target of 100.
Restoring the Bukhara deer population is just one part of the park's work. Equally important has been documenting the local flora and fauna, about which very little was known until recently. In just a few years, specialists have compiled data that did not exist before.
The park now has records of 246 animal species in the Khorezm region, 53 of which are listed in the Red Book of Uzbekistan (the official state document detailing rare and endangered species), and 254 plant species, including 31 that are also listed.
The park now has records of 246 animal species in the Khorezm region, 53 of which are listed in the Red Book of Uzbekistan (the official state document detailing rare and endangered species), and 254 plant species, including 31 that are also listed.
In the 2019 edition of the Red Book, the Khorezm region did not appear on the species distribution maps at all, as if none of these species existed here. Over five years, we conducted surveys twice a year, in spring and autumn, set up camera traps, and ultimately confirmed the presence of animals that had simply never made it into the statistics
shares Otabek Kilichev.
One visible symbol of the technical support the park has received through the Aral Sea Wetlands project is a 12.5-meter observation tower, one of ten planned for national parks along the lower Amu Darya.
From the tower, we spot hares darting through the tamarisk. At the meadow's edge, tracks pressed into the sand show where animals passed through during the night or early morning.
From the tower, we spot hares darting through the tamarisk. At the meadow's edge, tracks pressed into the sand show where animals passed through during the night or early morning.
“A national park is not a nature reserve. Thus, people can visit it. In the recreational zone, they should be able to see nature firsthand, not just in photographs. The tower is also safe for the animals. The observer doesn’t enter the forest or disturb the herd, but simply climbs up and looks through binoculars. Researchers use it too, for wildlife counts. During the rut, male deer call out, and from that height they are easier to count without approaching or disturbing them,” explains Khalilulla Sherimbetov.
Lower Amu Darya
Biosphere Reserve
Biosphere Reserve
The road from Khorezm National Park continues north toward the border with Karakalpakstan. Here, in the lower reaches of the Amu Darya, approximately 90 kilometers from Nukus, lies the Lower Amu Darya State Biosphere Reserve (LADBR).
The site's history dates to 1971, when the Baday-Tugay nature reserve was established. In 2011, the Cabinet of Ministers Decree No. 243 transformed it into a biosphere reserve. According to Khalilulla Sherimbetov, this status makes it possible to combine nature conservation, scientific research, and limited land use. The territory is now divided into three zones: a strictly protected core zone (around 11,500 hectares), a buffer zone (around 6,700 hectares), and a transition zone (more than 50,000 hectares), where limited economic activity is permitted.
The site's history dates to 1971, when the Baday-Tugay nature reserve was established. In 2011, the Cabinet of Ministers Decree No. 243 transformed it into a biosphere reserve. According to Khalilulla Sherimbetov, this status makes it possible to combine nature conservation, scientific research, and limited land use. The territory is now divided into three zones: a strictly protected core zone (around 11,500 hectares), a buffer zone (around 6,700 hectares), and a transition zone (more than 50,000 hectares), where limited economic activity is permitted.
In the core zone, nothing is permitted except science — only research and monitoring. All other activity is strictly prohibited. The buffer zone exists to prevent external pressures from reaching the core. Beyond that is the economic zone, where certain activities are allowed, but only with the approval of ecologists and on the condition that they don’t harm the protected area.
explains Khalilulla Sherimbetov.
In 2021, the reserve gained international recognition, joining UNESCO's World Network of Biosphere Reserves under the Man and the Biosphere Programme.
Like the other sites on the expedition route, LADBR faces serious water challenges. Specialists say the tugay forest is drying faster than it can regenerate. There are several reasons for it. The water levels of both the Amu Darya and the groundwater table continue to fall, spring floods have almost disappeared, and thus the forest no longer receives natural moisture. Pumping stations have taken over in places where the river once spread water naturally across the land. So now the water is channeled through a network of canals, returning moisture to the soil. Fresh vegetation has already appeared along the canals. In the wet takyr (a flat, smooth desert landform typical of Central Asia), animal tracks mark where wildlife comes to drink.
There is another reason the tugay forest is struggling to recover. There are too many Bukhara deer. While the Kyzylkum reserve is working to rebuild its deer population, here the situation is reversed. The latest spring count recorded more than 1,580 ungulates in the reserve.
The core zone covers around seven thousand hectares. Specialists calculated 10 to 15 years ago that it could support no more than 700 individuals. There are now twice that number. This is overpopulation. The deer are consuming the young turanga shoots that the forest already cannot produce fast enough to renew itself.
says Nodirbek Madaminov,
director of the reserve.
Solutions have been discussed for years. Relocation is a complex and time-consuming process. First, suitable habitat must be found. Then, the animal needs to be sedated and safely transported to its new location.
The high population creates another problem — a conflict with local communities. The reserve is surrounded by settlements on all sides, and deer regularly venture onto farmland.
Residents take LADBR to court constantly. They claim the deer have trampled their crops. But this is a Red Book species protected under international conventions. So every time we go to court, we make the same argument: if you want to protect your garden, fence it yourself. The deer cannot be touched.
says Khalilulla Sherimbetov.
In such situations, the key difference between a biosphere reserve and a conventional nature reserve becomes clear. Its multi-tiered zoning is designed to minimize contact between people and wildlife. The buffer zone absorbs the main human pressure, reducing the likelihood of conflict.
Sudochye
The road to Sudochye runs through the Muynak district of Karakalpakstan. Rice fields give way to salt flats, and the salt flats give way to the white sand of the Aralkum, a new desert formed on what was once the seabed. Half a century ago, this was the floor of the Aral Sea. Now, a dirt track leads to the lake across it. The scale of the tragedy becomes impossible to ignore. The sea did not simply recede. It retreated by hundreds of kilometers.
Lake Sudochye, the final stop on our route, lies at the boundary where water ends and the former seabed begins. The origin of its name is explained in different ways. Tura Kholikov, a specialist in protected area development and biodiversity conservation, said that one version traces it to the Karakalpak phrase “suvi ducci,” meaning “fresh water.”
The reserve's chief inspector, Kutlimurat Aytmuratov, believes the lake takes its name from the sudak, known in English as zander or pike-perch.
“There used to be enormous quantities of this fish here. People caught and salted it. Hence 'Sudak,' and later 'Sudochye,' ” he explains.
Both versions point to the same thing: there was once an abundance of water here.
The reserve's chief inspector, Kutlimurat Aytmuratov, believes the lake takes its name from the sudak, known in English as zander or pike-perch.
“There used to be enormous quantities of this fish here. People caught and salted it. Hence 'Sudak,' and later 'Sudochye,' ” he explains.
Both versions point to the same thing: there was once an abundance of water here.
Lake Sudochye was a former bay of the Aral Sea, in a sense. It was connected to the sea through the Raushan waterway. In 1960, that connection was severed: the sea retreated, leaving behind a lake covering 33,000 to 35,000 hectares. Through the 1970s, water levels continued to fall, and volumes shrank. Then collector-drainage water began to be directed here, and by the 1980s the situation had improved somewhat. In 2000 and 2001, two of the driest years on record, the lake lost almost all of its volume again.
tells Malika Ikramova.
The Sudochye of the past no longer exists as a single body of water. As levels dropped, it fragmented into a system of separate lakes: Greater Sudochye, Akushpu, Begdulla-Aydin, and Karateren.
At the shore of Greater Sudochye, the retreat of the water is clearly visible. Reeds grow green at the water's edge. A little further back, where the water no longer reaches, they have turned yellow and dried out. Further still, they lie in a black layer, as after a fire. Then they disappear entirely, giving way to bare, saline soil. These bands tell the story of the lake's retreat with unusual clarity.
At the shore of Greater Sudochye, the retreat of the water is clearly visible. Reeds grow green at the water's edge. A little further back, where the water no longer reaches, they have turned yellow and dried out. Further still, they lie in a black layer, as after a fire. Then they disappear entirely, giving way to bare, saline soil. These bands tell the story of the lake's retreat with unusual clarity.
The water here remains suitable for animals and birds, making Sudochye one of the most important bodies of water along their migration routes.
“During migration, you can encounter the rare whooper swan, the great white pelican, and other waterfowl. They rest here and build up strength before the next leg of their journey,” explains Tura Kholikov.
More than 100,000 birds pass through Sudochye during the spring migration.
“For a wetland to receive international status under the Ramsar Convention, it is sufficient for 20,000 birds to be present simultaneously. Here, that figure is exceeded several times over,” notes Khalilulla Sherimbetov.
“During migration, you can encounter the rare whooper swan, the great white pelican, and other waterfowl. They rest here and build up strength before the next leg of their journey,” explains Tura Kholikov.
More than 100,000 birds pass through Sudochye during the spring migration.
“For a wetland to receive international status under the Ramsar Convention, it is sufficient for 20,000 birds to be present simultaneously. Here, that figure is exceeded several times over,” notes Khalilulla Sherimbetov.
The greater flamingo is Sudochye's most prominent permanent resident, and the main reason foreign tourists are increasingly making the trip. Kutlimurat Aytmuratov notes that this is the only place in Uzbekistan where flamingos not only stop during migration but also nest.
Around 230 bird species have been recorded in the Sudochye area. The lake is also home to around twenty animal species listed in the Red Book of Uzbekistan, including the Turkmen kulan, the goitered gazelle, the caracal, and the white-tailed eagle.
Elevated salinity has become one of the defining features of the Sudochye ecosystem. Recent measurements show mineralization levels of 2.8 to 4.1 grams per liter across the lake system, around 4.7 in the collector-drainage canal, and as high as 7.4 to 8.5 grams per liter in Lake Karateren. The water is murky, with a greenish tint and a marshy smell; visibility does not exceed 15 to 20 centimeters. These conditions favor the reproduction of Artemia, a small crustacean that thrives in high salinity and serves as a food source for many of the birds that inhabit the lake.
Elevated salinity has become one of the defining features of the Sudochye ecosystem. Recent measurements show mineralization levels of 2.8 to 4.1 grams per liter across the lake system, around 4.7 in the collector-drainage canal, and as high as 7.4 to 8.5 grams per liter in Lake Karateren. The water is murky, with a greenish tint and a marshy smell; visibility does not exceed 15 to 20 centimeters. These conditions favor the reproduction of Artemia, a small crustacean that thrives in high salinity and serves as a food source for many of the birds that inhabit the lake.
However, specialists stress that the existing balance is fragile. As water inflow continues to decline, salinity keeps rising, gradually reshaping the lake's ecosystem.
Nowadays, our main problem is water. There is less of it every year. Most of what reaches us is collector-drainage water. There is another potential source, but using it would require digging a canal around six kilometers long. As water levels fall and evaporation continues, salinity keeps rising. This affects the animals too. They are starting to leave.
says Kutlimurat Aytmuratov,
chief inspector of the reserve.
Fishing still takes place here, but only within established quotas. Reserve inspectors monitor catch volumes and fish reproduction. According to Aytmuratov, reduced water inflow has already made catches incomparable to what they once were.
The ruins of houses and the walls of an old fish warehouse on the shore of Sudochye are evidence of a time when fishing was the main occupation of residents. Until 1966, a fishing village called Urga stood here. After the Aral Sea retreated, it was abandoned.
The ruins of houses and the walls of an old fish warehouse on the shore of Sudochye are evidence of a time when fishing was the main occupation of residents. Until 1966, a fishing village called Urga stood here. After the Aral Sea retreated, it was abandoned.
The lake's fate changed — and so did its conservation status.
“Previously, this was the Sudochye wildlife sanctuary without legal entity status. In 2002, after specialists had studied the territory, we decided to establish a state wildlife sanctuary with its own legal entity: its own land, its own protection, and budget funding. Then, in 2020, a decree was issued establishing a second section, Akpetki, 200 kilometers from here, closer to another branch of the delta. Since then, inspectors have been divided into two groups: one assigned to each section,” says Khalilulla Sherimbetov.
“Previously, this was the Sudochye wildlife sanctuary without legal entity status. In 2002, after specialists had studied the territory, we decided to establish a state wildlife sanctuary with its own legal entity: its own land, its own protection, and budget funding. Then, in 2020, a decree was issued establishing a second section, Akpetki, 200 kilometers from here, closer to another branch of the delta. Since then, inspectors have been divided into two groups: one assigned to each section,” says Khalilulla Sherimbetov.
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A wildlife sanctuary, he explains, is the second strictest category of protected natural area after a nature reserve. It operates under a more flexible regime, but its primary purpose remains the conservation of valuable species and ecosystems.
On 30 April 2023, Sudochye was added to the Ramsar Convention's list of wetlands of international importance. According to Malika Ikramova, this means that the lake's conservation has become not only the responsibility of local specialists but also a direct obligation of the state.
However, international status alone does not resolve the core problem of water shortage. And so the conversation on the shore returns to Article 122 of the new Water Code and the question of environmental flows, as it did at every previous stop on the route.
“To maintain such lakes and prevent their further deterioration, environmental flows are essential. I hope Sudochye will never be lost completely from now on. As part of the project, we are developing an integrated water resources management plan, and the Muynak district has been selected as the pilot area. Here we are implementing a water management system that accounts for the needs of agriculture, industry, and fisheries — and, for the first time as a mandatory consideration, ecology,” says Ikramova.
However, international status alone does not resolve the core problem of water shortage. And so the conversation on the shore returns to Article 122 of the new Water Code and the question of environmental flows, as it did at every previous stop on the route.
“To maintain such lakes and prevent their further deterioration, environmental flows are essential. I hope Sudochye will never be lost completely from now on. As part of the project, we are developing an integrated water resources management plan, and the Muynak district has been selected as the pilot area. Here we are implementing a water management system that accounts for the needs of agriculture, industry, and fisheries — and, for the first time as a mandatory consideration, ecology,” says Ikramova.
The central practical question remains open. How much water does the lake actually need?
“Has a minimum environmental flow volume already been determined?” the journalists ask.
“There is no separate standard for environmental flows yet,” the expert replies. “The historical water allocation limit for the Amu Darya delta and the Aral Sea region as a whole is 4.2 billion cubic meters per year. This figure is established in the ICWC (Interstate Commission for Water Coordination) protocol and reviewed annually based on water availability. It applies to the entire region, which is why the project team is now working on the necessary regulatory documents. Before we can determine what volume of water each ecosystem needs, we first have to calculate the surface area of the lakes and account for evaporation losses. That is where we are starting.”
“Has a minimum environmental flow volume already been determined?” the journalists ask.
“There is no separate standard for environmental flows yet,” the expert replies. “The historical water allocation limit for the Amu Darya delta and the Aral Sea region as a whole is 4.2 billion cubic meters per year. This figure is established in the ICWC (Interstate Commission for Water Coordination) protocol and reviewed annually based on water availability. It applies to the entire region, which is why the project team is now working on the necessary regulatory documents. Before we can determine what volume of water each ecosystem needs, we first have to calculate the surface area of the lakes and account for evaporation losses. That is where we are starting.”
Text and photos by Orifjon Khoshimov.
Edited by Victoria Abdurakhimova.
Translated by Zilola Toirova.
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