So I started working with refugees because I wanted to make a difference, and making a difference starts with telling their stories. So when I meet refugees, I always ask them questions. Who bombed your house? Who killed your son? Did the rest of your family make it out alive? How are you coping in your life in exile? But there's one question that always seems to me to be most revealing, and that is: What did you take? What was that most important thing that you had to take with you when the bombs were exploding in your town, and the armed gangs were approaching your house?
Pracovať s utečencami som začala, lebo som chcela robiť niečo zmysluplné a zmysluplná práca sa začína rozprávaním ich príbehov. Pri našich stretnutiach sa utečencov vždy pýtam: Kto vám zbombardoval dom? Kto vám zabil syna? Prežili to ostatní členovia vašej rodiny? Ako sa vyrovnávate so životom v exile? Ale zdá sa mi, že jedna otázka odhaľuje vždy najviac, a to: Čo ste si vzali so sebou? Čo bolo to najdôležitejšie, čo ste si museli vziať so sebou, keď vo vašom meste vybuchovali bomby a keď sa ozbrojenci blížili k vášmu domu?
A Syrian refugee boy I know told me that he didn't hesitate when his life was in imminent danger. He took his high school diploma, and later he told me why. He said, "I took my high school diploma because my life depended on it." And he would risk his life to get that diploma. On his way to school, he would dodge snipers. His classroom sometimes shook with the sound of bombs and shelling, and his mother told me, "Every day, I would say to him every morning, 'Honey, please don't go to school.'" And when he insisted, she said, "I would hug him as if it were for the last time." But he said to his mother, "We're all afraid, but our determination to graduate is stronger than our fear."
Jeden sýrsky chlapec, utečenec, mi povedal, ze neváhal, keď mu hrozila smrť, a vzal si maturitné vysvedčenie. Neskôr mi povedal, prečo. Povedal: „Vzal som si maturitné vysvedčenie, lebo od neho závisí môj život.“ Navyše riskoval svoj život, aby ho získal. Cestou do školy sa vyhýbal ostreľovačom. Jeho trieda sa neraz chvela burácaním bômb a granátov a jeho mama mi povedala: „Každé ráno som mu vravela: 'Hany, prosím ťa, nechoď do školy.' A keď na tom trval,“ povedala, „objala som ho, akoby to malo byť naposledy.“ Ale on svojej mame hovoril: „Všetci sa bojíme, ale naše odhodlanie dokončiť školu je silnejšie ako strach.“
But one day, the family got terrible news. Hany's aunt, his uncle and his cousin were murdered in their homes for refusing to leave their house. Their throats were slit. It was time to flee.
Jedného dňa sa rodina dozvedela strašné správy. Hanyho tetu, strýka a ich dieťa zavraždili v ich vlastnom dome, lebo odmietli odísť. Podrezali im hrdlá. Bol čas utiecť.
They left that day, right away, in their car, Hany hidden in the back because they were facing checkpoints of menacing soldiers. And they would cross the border into Lebanon, where they would find peace. But they would begin a life of grueling hardship and monotony. They had no choice but to build a shack on the side of a muddy field, and this is Hany's brother Ashraf, who plays outside.
Odišli ešte v ten deň autom, Hany schovaný v kufri, lebo čelili kontrolám hrozivými vojakmi. Podarilo sa im prejsť cez hranice do Libanonu, kde našli mier. Ale začal sa pre nich život plný vyčerpávajúcej biedy a monotónnosti. Nemali inú možnosť, ako si postaviť chatrč na kraji blatistého poľa. Toto je Hanyho brat Ašraf hrajúci sa vonku.
And that day, they joined the biggest population of refugees in the world, in a country, Lebanon, that is tiny. It only has four million citizens, and there are one million Syrian refugees living there. There's not a town, a city or a village that is not host to Syrian refugees. This is generosity and humanity that is remarkable. Think about it this way, proportionately. It would be as if the entire population of Germany, 80 million people, would flee to the United States in just three years. Half of the entire population of Syria is now uprooted, most of them inside the country. Six and a half million people have fled for their lives. Over and well over three million people have crossed the borders and have found sanctuary in the neighboring countries, and only a small proportion, as you see, have moved on to Europe. What I find most worrying is that half of all Syrian refugees are children. I took this picture of this little girl. It was just two hours after she had arrived after a long trek from Syria into Jordan.
V ten deň sa stali súčasťou najväčšej populácie utečencov na svete v krajine, ktorá je maličká, v Libanone. Má iba štyri milióny obyvateľov a žije tu jeden milión sýrskych utečencov. Nenájdete tu mesto, či dedinu, ktoré neprichýlili sýrskych utečencov. To je veľkorysosť a ľudskosť hodná uznania. Predstavte si toto prirovnanie. Bolo by to, akoby celé obyvateľstvo Nemecka, 80 miliónov ľudí, utieklo do Spojených štátov len v priebehu troch rokov. Polovica všetkých obyvateľov Sýrie opustila svoje domovy, pričom vačšina zostala v rámci krajiny. Šesť a pol milióna ľudí utieklo, aby si zachránili život. Viac, podstatne viac ako tri milióny ľudí prekročili hranice a našli útočisko v susedných krajinách, a len malá časť, ako vidíte, sa pohla ďalej do Európy. Najznepokojujúcejšie je, že polovica všetkých sýrskych utečencov sú deti. Odfotila som si toto dievčatko. Bolo to len dve hodiny po ich príchode po dlhom putovaní zo Sýrie do Jordánska.
And most troubling of all is that only 20 percent of Syrian refugee children are in school in Lebanon. And yet, Syrian refugee children, all refugee children tell us education is the most important thing in their lives. Why? Because it allows them to think of their future rather than the nightmare of their past. It allows them to think of hope rather than hatred.
A najznepokojivejšie zo všetkého je, že len 20 % detských utečencov zo Sýrie chodí v Libanone do školy. A napriek tomu detskí utečenci zo Sýrie, vlastne všetci detskí utečenci, nám hovoria, že vzdelanie je v ich živote to najdôležitejšie. Prečo? Lebo im pomáha myslieť na budúcnosť, a nie na nočné mory z minulosti. Pomáha im myslieť na nádej, a nie na nenávisť.
I'm reminded of a recent visit I took to a Syrian refugee camp in northern Iraq, and I met this girl, and I thought, "She's beautiful," and I went up to her and asked her, "Can I take your picture?" And she said yes, but she refused to smile. I think she couldn't, because I think she must realize that she represents a lost generation of Syrian refugee children, a generation isolated and frustrated. And yet, look at what they fled: utter destruction, buildings, industries, schools, roads, homes. Hany's home was also destroyed. This will need to be rebuilt by architects, by engineers, by electricians. Communities will need teachers and lawyers and politicians interested in reconciliation and not revenge. Shouldn't this be rebuilt by the people with the largest stake, the societies in exile, the refugees?
Spomínam si, ako som nedávno navštívila sýrsky utečenecký tábor v severnom Iraku, kde som stretla toto dievča a pomyslela som si, aká je krásna. Prišla som za ňou a opýtala som sa: „Môžem si ťa odfotografovať?“ A ona súhlasila, ale odmietla sa usmievať. Myslím si, že nemohla, lebo si podľa mňa musela uvedomovať, že predstavuje stratenú generáciu detí utekajúcich zo Sýrie, generáciu izolovanú a frustrovanú. A predsa, pozrite sa, pred čím utiekli: totálna skaza, budovy, podniky, školy, cesty, domy. Aj Hanyho dom zničili. To všetko budú musieť znovu postaviť architekti, inžinieri, elektrikári. Spoločnosť bude potrebovať učiteľov a právnikov a politikov, ktorí majú záujem o zmier, a nie o pomstu. Nemali by to znova vybudovať ľudia, ktorí stratili najviac, spoločnosti v exile, utečenci?
Refugees have a lot of time to prepare for their return. You might imagine that being a refugee is just a temporary state. Well far from it. With wars going on and on, the average time a refugee will spend in exile is 17 years. Hany was into his second year in limbo when I went to visit him recently, and we conducted our entire conversation in English, which he confessed to me he learned from reading all of Dan Brown's novels and from listening to American rap. We also spent some nice moments of laughter and fun with his beloved brother Ashraf. But I'll never forget what he told me when we ended our conversation that day. He said to me, "If I am not a student, I am nothing."
Utečenci majú veľa času pripraviť sa na svoj návrat. Možno si myslíte, že byť utečencom je len dočasný stav. To má však ďaleko od pravdy. Kvôli neutíchajúcim vojnám je priemerný čas, ktorý utečenec prežije v exile, 17 rokov. Pre Hanyho sa začal druhý rok v ničote, keď som ho prednedávnom bola navštíviť. Náš rozhovor sme celý viedli v angličtine, ktorú, ako mi prezradil, sa naučil prečítaním všetkých románov Dana Browna a počúvaním amerického rapu. Zažili sme aj pár veselých chvíľ a zábavy s jeho milovaným bratom Ašrafom. Ale nezabudnem, čo mi povedal, keď sme v ten deň končili náš rozhovor. Povedal mi: „Ak nie som študentom, som ničím.“
Hany is one of 50 million people uprooted in this world today. Never since World War II have so many people been forcibly displaced. So while we're making sweeping progress in human health, in technology, in education and design, we are doing dangerously little to help the victims and we are doing far too little to stop and prevent the wars that are driving them from their homes.
Hany je jeden z 50 miliónov ľudí na svete, ktorí museli opustiť domov. Od druhej svetovej vojny ide o najväčší počet násilne vysídlených ľudí. Takže zatiaľ čo robíme obrovské pokroky v oblasti ľudského zdravia, v technológii, vzdelaní a dizajne, robíme nebezpečne málo, aby sme pomohli obetiam, a robíme priliš málo, aby sme zastavili a predišli vojnám, ktoré ich vyháňajú z domova.
And there are more and more victims. Every day, on average, by the end of this day, 32,000 people will be forcibly displaced from their homes — 32,000 people. They flee across borders like this one. We captured this on the Syrian border to Jordan, and this is a typical day. Or they flee on unseaworthy and overcrowded boats, risking their lives in this case just to reach safety in Europe. This Syrian young man survived one of these boats that capsized — most of the people drowned — and he told us, "Syrians are just looking for a quiet place where nobody hurts you, where nobody humiliates you, and where nobody kills you." Well, I think that should be the minimum. How about a place of healing, of learning, and even opportunity? Americans and Europeans have the impression that proportionally huge numbers of refugees are coming to their country, but the reality is that 86 percent, the vast majority of refugees, are living in the developing world, in countries struggling with their own insecurity, with their own issues of helping their own populations and poverty. So wealthy countries in the world should recognize the humanity and the generosity of the countries that are hosting so many refugees. And all countries should make sure that no one fleeing war and persecution arrives at a closed border.
A obetí je stále viac. Každý deň, v priemere, teda aj do konca dnešného dňa, 32 000 ľudí bude násilne vysídlených z domova. 32 000 ľudí. Utekajú cez hranice, ako je táto. Toto sme nafilmovali na sýrsko-jordánskej hranici. A to je bežný deň. Alebo utekajú na preplnených člnoch nevhodných na plavbu po mori, pričom riskujú svoj život, len aby došli do bezpečia v Európe. Tento sýrsky mladík prežil plavbu na takom člne, ktorý sa prevrátil. Väčšina ľudí sa utopila. Povedal nám: „Sýrčania len hľadajú pokojné miesto, kde vám nikto neubližuje, kde vás nikto neponižuje, a kde vás nikto nezabije.“ Ja si myslím, že to by malo byť minimum. Čo tak miesto pre uzdravenie, vzdelávanie, či dokonca príležitosti? Američania a Európania majú dojem, že do ich krajín prichádza percentuálne obrovský počet utečencov, ale v skutočnosti 86 %, teda veľká väčšina utečencov, žije v rozvojovom svete, v krajinách, ktoré zápasia s vlastnou neistotou, s problémami, ako pomôcť vlastnému obyvateľstvu, a s chudobou. Takže bohaté štáty sveta by mali uznať ľudskosť a veľkorysosť krajín, ktoré poskytli útočisko takému množstvu utečencov. A všetky krajiny by mali zabezpečiť, aby ľudia utekajúci pred vojnou a prenasledovaním nedošli na zatvorené hranice.
(Applause)
(potlesk)
Thank you.
Ďakujem.
But there is something more that we can do than just simply helping refugees survive. We can help them thrive. We should think of refugee camps and communities as more than just temporary population centers where people languish waiting for the war to end. Rather, as centers of excellence, where refugees can triumph over their trauma and train for the day that they can go home as agents of positive change and social transformation.
Ale môžeme pre utečencov urobiť viac, ako len pomôcť im prežiť. Môžme im pomôcť napredovať. Utečenecké tábory a komunity by mali byť viac ako len centrá dočasného umiestnenia, kde ľudia chradnú, čakajúc na koniec vojny. Mali by byť centrami excelentnosti, kde utečenci môžu prekonať vlastnú traumu a pripraviť sa na deň, keď sa budú môcť vrátiť domov ako strojcovia pozitívnej zmeny a transformácie spoločnosti.
It makes so much sense, but I'm reminded of the terrible war in Somalia that has been raging on for 22 years. And imagine living in this camp. I visited this camp. It's in Djibouti, neighboring Somalia, and it was so remote that we had to take a helicopter to fly there. It was dusty and it was terribly hot. And we went to visit a school and started talking to the children, and then I saw this girl across the room who looked to me to be the same age as my own daughter, and I went up and talked to her. And I asked her the questions that grown-ups ask kids, like, "What is your favorite subject?" and, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" And this is when her face turned blank, and she said to me, "I have no future. My schooling days are over." And I thought, there must be some misunderstanding, so I turned to my colleague and she confirmed to me there is no funding for secondary education in this camp. And how I wished at that moment that I could say to her, "We will build you a school." And I also thought, what a waste. She should be and she is the future of Somalia.
Dáva to predsa zmysel, ale prichádza mi na myseľ strašná vojna v Somálsku, ktorá zúri už 22 rokov. Predstavte si, že žijete v tomto tábore. Bola som sa tam pozrieť. Je v Džibutsku susediacom so Somálskom a je tak ďaleko od civilizácie, že sme sa tam dostali len helikoptérou. Bolo tam prašno a strašne horúco. Navštívili sme tam školu a začali sa rozprávať s deťmi. Zbadala som dievča na druhom konci miestnosti, ktoré vyzeralo asi tak vo veku mojej dcéry. Prišla som za ňou a oslovila ju. Kládla som sa jej otázky, ktoré dospelí kladú deťom, ako: „Čo je tvoj obľúbený predmet?“ a „Čím chceš byť, keď vyrastieš?“ Vtedy sa na jej tvári objavil prázdny výraz a povedala: „Ja nemám budúcnosť. Pre mňa sa škola skončila.“ Myslela som, že som zle rozumela, tak som sa otočila na svoju kolegyňu a tá mi potvrdila, že na výučbu detí nad 12 rokov v tomto tábore nie sú financie. Tak veľmi som jej v tej chvíli chcela môcť povedať: „Postavíme ti školu.“ Pomyslela som si tiež, koľká škoda. Veď ona by mala byť, a je, budúcnosťou Somálska.
A boy named Jacob Atem had a different chance, but not before he experienced terribly tragedy. He watched — this is in Sudan — as his village — he was only seven years old — burned to the ground, and he learned that his mother and his father and his entire family were killed that day. Only his cousin survived, and the two of them walked for seven months — this is boys like him — chased and pursued by wild animals and armed gangs, and they finally made it to refugee camps where they found safety, and he would spend the next seven years in Kenya in a refugee camp.
Chlapec menom Jacob Atem mal odlišný osud, ale až po tom, čo bol svedkom strašnej tragédie. Mal len sedem rokov, keď sa v Sudáne pozeral na to, ako jeho dedinu vypálili do tla, a keď sa dozvedel, že jeho matku a otca a celú jeho rodinu v ten deň zabili. Prežil len jeho bratranec, s ktorým potom putovali pešo sedem mesiacov, tu sú chlapci ako on, prenasledovaní divou zverou a ozbrojenými gangami, až sa konečne dostali do utečeneckých táborov, kde našli bezpečie. Nasledujúcich sedem rokov prežil v utečeneckom tábore v Keni.
But his life changed when he got the chance to be resettled to the United States, and he found love in a foster family and he was able to go to school, and he wanted me to share with you this proud moment when he graduated from university.
Ale jeho život sa zmenil, keď dostal možnosť presťahovať sa do Spojených štátov, kde našiel priazeň náhradnej rodiny a kde mohol chodiť do školy. Chcel, aby som sa s vami podelila o tento dôležitý moment, keď dokončil vysokú školu.
(Applause)
(potlesk)
I spoke to him on Skype the other day, and he was in his new university in Florida pursuing his Ph.D. in public health, and he proudly told me how he was able to raise enough funds from the American public to establish a health clinic back in his village back home.
Pred pár dňami som s ním hovorila cez Skype. Bol práve na univerzite na Floride, kde si robí PhD. z verejného zdravotníctva, a hrdo mi povedal, že sa mu podarilo získať od americkej verejnosti dostatok peňazí na otvorenie kliniky v dedine, odkliaľ pochádza.
So I want to take you back to Hany. When I told him I was going to have the chance to speak to you here on the TED stage, he allowed me to read you a poem that he sent in an email to me.
Vráťme sa teraz k Hanymu. Keď som mu povedala, že budem mať príležitosť prehovoriť na pódiu TED, dovolil mi prečítať vám báseň, ktorú mi poslal e-mailom.
He wrote: "I miss myself, my friends, times of reading novels or writing poems, birds and tea in the morning. My room, my books, myself, and everything that was making me smile. Oh, oh, I had so many dreams that were about to be realized."
Napísal: „Chýba mi moje ja, moji priatelia, chvíle čítania románov a písania básní, vtáky a čaj po prebudení. Moja izba, moje knihy, moje ja a všetko, čo ma robilo šťastným. Ach, mal som toľko snov, ktoré sa mali čoskoro splniť.“
So here is my point: Not investing in refugees is a huge missed opportunity. Leave them abandoned, and they risk exploitation and abuse, and leave them unskilled and uneducated, and delay by years the return to peace and prosperity in their countries. I believe how we treat the uprooted will shape the future of our world. The victims of war can hold the keys to lasting peace, and it's the refugees who can stop the cycle of violence.
Čo chcem povedať: Ak nebudeme investovať do utečencov, premárnime obrovskú príležitosť. Nechajme ich bez pomoci, a hrozí, že budú vykorisťovaní a zneužití. A nechajme ich bez zručností a vzdelania, a mier a prosperita sa do ich krajín vrátia s niekoľkoročným zdržaním. Verím, že to, ako sa postavíme k utečencom, bude mať vplyv na budúcnosť nášho sveta. Obete vojny možno držia kľúč od trvalého mieru a sú to práve utečenci, ktorí môžu zastaviť kolobeh násilia.
Hany is at a tipping point. We would love to help him go to university and to become an engineer, but our funds are prioritized for the basics in life: tents and blankets and mattresses and kitchen sets, food rations and a bit of medicine. University is a luxury. But leave him to languish in this muddy field, and he will become a member of a lost generation. Hany's story is a tragedy, but it doesn't have to end that way.
Hany je v bode zlomu. Radi by sme mu pomohli ísť na vysokú školu a stať sa inžinierom, ale naše prostriedky idú prioritne na základné životné potreby: stany, deky, matrace, kuchynský riad, prídel jedla a nejaké lieky. Univerzita je luxus. Ale nechajme ho upadať v blate na poli a stane sa jedným zo stratenej generácie. Hanyho príbeh je tragédia, ale nemusí sa tak aj skončiť.
Thank you.
Ďakujem.
(Applause)
(potlesk)