Jeg vil gerne fortælle en historie om en landsbydreng. Selvom jeg ikke kender hans navn, kender jeg hans historie. Han bor i en lille landsby i Sydsomalia. Hans landsby ligger tæt på Mogadishu. Landsbyen er fattig efter alvorlig tørke og de er tæt på at sulte. Drengen har ingen fremtid i landsbyen, så tager han til en større by, i dette tilfælde Mogadishu, Somalias hovedstad. Da han ankommer, er der ingen muligheder, ingen jobs, ingen fremtid. Han ender med at bo i en teltby i udkanten af Mogadishu. Efter omkring et års lediggang, bliver han kontaktet af en mand, der først inviterer ham til frokost, derefter aftensmad og morgenmad. Drengen møder en dynamisk gruppe folk, der får ham til at slappe af. Han får en smule penge, så han kan købe noget nyt tøj, penge, som han sender hjem til sin familie. Han introduceres til en ung kvinde. Han bliver gift. Han starter et nyt liv. Der er en mening med hans liv.
I would like to talk to you about a story about a small town kid. I don't know his name, but I do know his story. He lives in a small village in southern Somalia. His village is near Mogadishu. Drought drives the small village into poverty and to the brink of starvation. With nothing left for him there, he leaves for the big city, in this case, Mogadishu, the capital of Somalia. When he arrives, there are no opportunities, no jobs, no way forward. He ends up living in a tent city on the outskirts of Mogadishu. Maybe a year passes, nothing. One day, he's approached by a gentleman who offers to take him to lunch, then to dinner, to breakfast. He meets this dynamic group of people, and they give him a break. He's given a bit of money to buy himself some new clothes, money to send back home to his family. He is introduced to this young woman. He eventually gets married. He starts this new life. He has a purpose in life.
På en smuk dag i Mogadishu, under den blå himmel, springer en bilbombe i luften. Selvmordsbomberen var landsbydrengen på udkig efter en bedre fremtid, og den dynamiske gruppe folk var al-Shabaab, en terrororganisation, med forbindelser til al-Qaeda.
One beautiful day in Mogadishu, under an azure blue sky, a car bomb goes off. That small town kid with the big city dreams was the suicide bomber, and that dynamic group of people were al Shabaab, a terrorist organization linked to al Qaeda.
Hvordan ender en historie om en landsbydreng, der bare ønskede et bedre liv i storbyen, med at han springer sig selv i luften? Han ventede. Han ventede på en mulighed, ventede på at begynde sin fremtid, ventede på en vej frem og dette var den første, der kom. Dette var den første ting, der trak ham ud af ventepositionen.
So how does the story of a small town kid just trying to make it big in the city end up with him blowing himself up? He was waiting. He was waiting for an opportunity, waiting to begin his future, waiting for a way forward, and this was the first thing that came along. This was the first thing that pulled him out of what we call waithood.
Og hans historie gentager sig i byer overalt i verden. Det er en historie om isolerede, arbejdsløse unge bymennesker, der laver oprør i Johannesburg, oprør i London, som er trætte af at vente. For unge mennesker lover byen muligheder, jobs og rigdom, men unge mennesker får ikke del i deres byers rigdom. Det er ofte de unge, der er mest arbejdsløse. I 2030 vil tre ud af fem unge, der lever i byen, være under 18 år. Hvis vi ikke inkluderer de unge i udviklingen af vores byer, hvis vi ikke giver dem muligheder, vil historien om ventepositionen, vejen til terrorism, vold, bander, blive de nye byers historie. I min fødeby, Mogadishu, er 70% af de unge arbejdsløse. 70% er uden arbejde, går ikke i skole. De laver ikke rigtig noget.
And his story repeats itself in urban centers around the world. It is the story of the disenfranchised, unemployed urban youth who sparks riots in Johannesburg, sparks riots in London, who reaches out for something other than waithood. For young people, the promise of the city, the big city dream is that of opportunity, of jobs, of wealth, but young people are not sharing in the prosperity of their cities. Often it's youth who suffer from the highest unemployment rates. By 2030, three out of five people living in cities will be under the age of 18. If we do not include young people in the growth of our cities, if we do not provide them opportunities, the story of waithood, the gateway to terrorism, to violence, to gangs, will be the story of cities 2.0. And in my city of birth, Mogadishu, 70 percent of young people suffer from unemployment. 70 percent don't work, don't go to school. They pretty much do nothing.
Da jeg var i Mogadishu i sidste måned, besøgte jeg Madina Hospital, hvor jeg blev født. Jeg mindes at stå foran det forkomne hospital og tænke, hvad hvis jeg var blevet i Mogadishu? Hvad hvis jeg var blevet tvunget ind i den samme venteposition? Ville jeg være blevet terrorist? Jeg er ikke helt sikker på svaret.
I went back to Mogadishu last month, and I went to visit Madina Hospital, the hospital I was born in. I remember standing in front of that bullet-ridden hospital thinking, what if I had never left? What if I had been forced into that same state of waithood? Would I have become a terrorist? I'm not really sure about the answer.
Jeg var i Mogadishu i den måned, fordi jeg var vært på et møde for unge ledere og iværksættere. Sammen med cirka 90 unge somaliske ledere brainstormede vi løsninger til problemer, de oplever i deres by.
My reason for being in Mogadishu that month was actually to host a youth leadership and entrepreneurship summit. I brought together about 90 young Somali leaders. We sat down and brainstormed on solutions to the biggest challenges facing their city.
En af de unge mænd var Aden. Han havde læst på universitet i Mogadishu, men der var ingen jobs, ingen muligheder. Jeg kan huske, at han fortalte mig, at fordi han var universitetsudannet, arbejdsløs og frustreret, var han den perfekte rekrut for al-Shabaab og andre terrororganisationer. De ledte efter folk som ham.
One of the young men in the room was Aden. He went to university in Mogadishu, graduated. There were no jobs, no opportunities. I remember him telling me, because he was a college graduate, unemployed, frustrated, that he was the perfect target for al Shabaab and other terrorist organizations, to be recruited. They sought people like him out.
Men hans historie tog en anden drejning. Det kan være svært at komme fra A til B i Mogadishu. 23 år med borgerkrig har fuldstændig ødelagt vejene, og det er nemmest at komme rundt med en motorcykel. Aden så en mulighed og tog den. Han startede et motorcykelfirma. Han begyndte at udleje motorcykler til lokale, der ellers ikke havde råd. Sammen med familie og venner købte han 10 motorcykler, og hans drøm voksede efterhånden til flere hundrede i de næste tre år.
But his story takes a different route. In Mogadishu, the biggest barrier to getting from point A to point B are the roads. Twenty-three years of civil war have completely destroyed the road system, and a motorbike can be the easiest way to get around. Aden saw an opportunity and seized it. He started a motorbike company. He began renting out motorbikes to local residents who couldn't normally afford them. He bought 10 bikes, with the help of family and friends, and his dream is to eventually expand to several hundred within the next three years.
Hvordan er denne historie anderledes? Hvad gør hans historie anderledes? Jeg tror, det var hans evne til at se og gribe en ny mulighed. Det er iværksætteri, og jeg tror at iværksætteri kan blive det bedste våben mod ventepositionen. Med iværksætteri kan unge mennesker skabe de økonomiske muligheder, som de er på udkig efter.
How is this story different? What makes his story different? I believe it is his ability to identify and seize a new opportunity. It's entrepreneurship, and I believe entrepreneurship can be the most powerful tool against waithood. It empowers young people to be the creators of the very economic opportunities they are so desperately seeking.
Og unge kan lære at blive iværksættere. Jeg vil gerne fortælle om en ung mand, der deltog i et af mine møder, blomsterhandleren Mohamed Mahomoud. Sammen lærte vi unge mennesker på iværksættermødet, at være innovative og skabe en iværksætterkultur. Han er Mogadishus første blomsterhandler i over 22 år, og indtil for nyligt, før Mohamed kom, måtte du bruge plastikbuketter fra udlandet, hvis du ønskede blomster til dit bryllup. Hvis du spurgte nogen, "Hvornår så du sidst friske blomster?" ville mange, der voksede op under borgerkrigen, sige "Aldrig."
And you can train young people to be entrepreneurs. I want to talk to you about a young man who attended one of my meetings, Mohamed Mohamoud, a florist. He was helping me train some of the young people at the summit in entrepreneurship and how to be innovative and how to create a culture of entrepreneurship. He's actually the first florist Mogadishu has seen in over 22 years, and until recently, until Mohamed came along, if you wanted flowers at your wedding, you used plastic bouquets shipped from abroad. If you asked someone, "When was the last time you saw fresh flowers?" for many who grew up under civil war, the answer would be, "Never."
Så Mohamed så en mulighed. Han startede et blomsterfirma. Han grundlagde en farm udenfor Mogadishu, og begyndte at dyrke tulipaner og liljer, der kunne overleve i Mogadishus hårde klima. Snart leverede han blomster til bryllupper, skabte haver ved folks hjem og virksomheder i byen, og han arbejder nu på at skabe Mogadishus første park i 22 år. Der er ingen offentlig park i Mogadishu. Han ønsker at skabe et område, hvor familier og unge kan samles, og, som han siger, "nyde duften af roser". Som han forresten ikke kan dyrke, da de bruger alt for meget vand.
So Mohamed saw an opportunity. He started a landscaping and design floral company. He created a farm right outside of Mogadishu, and started growing tulips and lilies, which he said could survive the harsh Mogadishu climate. And he began delivering flowers to weddings, creating gardens at homes and businesses around the city, and he's now working on creating Mogadishu's first public park in 22 years. There's no public park in Mogadishu. He wants to create a space where families, young people, can come together, and, as he says, smell the proverbial roses. And he doesn't grow roses because they use too much water, by the way.
Så første skridt er at inspirere unge, og Mohamed gjorde den dag et stort indtryk på de unge. De havde aldrig overvejet at starte et firma. De havde overvejet at arbejde for en NGO, for regeringen, men hans historie, hans innovation, gjorde et stort indtryk på dem. Han tvang dem til at se på deres by som en mulighed. Han fik dem til at tro på, at de kunne blive iværksættere, at de kunne gøre en forskel. Senere kom de unge med forslag til opfindsomme løsninger til nogle af byens største problemer. De kom med iværksætterløsninger til lokale problemer.
So the first step is to inspire young people, and in that room, Mohamed's presence had a really profound impact on the youth in that room. They had never really thought about starting up a business. They've thought about working for an NGO, working for the government, but his story, his innovation, really had a strong impact on them. He forced them to look at their city as a place of opportunity. He empowered them to believe that they could be entrepreneurs, that they could be change makers. By the end of the day, they were coming up with innovative solutions to some of the biggest challenges facing their city. They came up with entrepreneurial solutions to local problems.
Så det at inspirere unge og skabe en iværksætterkultur er et stort skridt, men unge har brug for penge til at gøre drømmen til virkelighed. De har brug for evner og vejledning til at guide dem i at udvikle og lancere deres firma. Forbind de unge med de rette ressourcer, giv dem den støtte, de behøver, for at komme fra idé til skabelse, og man får byens unge i gang.
So inspiring young people and creating a culture of entrepreneurship is a really great step, but young people need capital to make their ideas a reality. They need expertise and mentorship to guide them in developing and launching their businesses. Connect young people with the resources they need, provide them the support they need to go from ideation to creation, and you will create catalysts for urban growth.
For mig, er iværksætteri mere end bare det at oprette et firma. Det handler om social indflydelse. Mohamed sælger ikke kun blomster. Jeg tror, at han sælger håb. Hans Peace Park, som han kalder den, vil, når den er færdig, ændre måden, hvorpå folk ser deres by. Aden hyrede gadebørn til at udleje og vedligeholde motorcyklerne. Han gav dem en mulighed for at forlade deres venteposition. Disse unge iværksættere har haft en stor indflydelse på deres byer.
For me, entrepreneurship is more than just starting up a business. It's about creating a social impact. Mohamed is not simply selling flowers. I believe he is selling hope. His Peace Park, and that's what he calls it, when it's created, will actually transform the way people see their city. Aden hired street kids to help rent out and maintain those bikes for him. He gave them the opportunity to escape the paralysis of waithood. These young entrepreneurs are having a tremendous impact in their cities.
Så, mit forslag er, at gøre vores unge til iværksættere, udklæk og giv næring til deres ideer, og du får flere historier om blomster og parker end om bilbomber og ventepositioner.
So my suggestion is, turn youth into entrepreneurs, incubate and nurture their inherent innovation, and you will have more stories of flowers and Peace Parks than of car bombs and waithood.
Tak.
Thank you.
(Bifald)
(Applause)