Cities are like siblings in a large polygamous family. Each one has a unique personality and is headed in a distinct direction. But they all have somewhat shared origins. Sometimes I think postcolonial cities are like the children of the two least-favorite wives, who are constantly being asked, "Ah, why can't you be more like your sister?"
Gradovi su kao braća u velikoj poligamnoj obitelji. Svaki ima jedinstvenu osobnost i svoj vlastiti smjer. Ali svi imaju podrijetlom nešto zajedničko. Ponekad mislim da su postkolonijalni gradovi poput djece dviju najmanje dragih supruga, koja stalno slušaju pitanje "Zašto ne možeš biti poput svoje sestre?"
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
The "why" of cities is largely the same, no matter where they are: an advantageous location that makes trade and administration possible; the potential for scalable opportunities for the skilled and unskilled alike; a popular willingness to be in constant flux and, of course, resilience. The "how" of cities, however, is a whole other story. How are they run? How do they grow? How do they decide who belongs and who doesn't?
To "zašto" zajedničko je svim gradovima, bez obzira gdje se nalaze: prestižna lokacija koja omogućuje trgovinu i administraciju, potencijal za prilagodljive prilike za kvalificirane i nekvalificirane radnike; popularna spremnost na neprekidan tijek i, naravno, fleksibilnost. Ali ono "kako", druga je priča. Kako se njima upravlja? Kako rastu? Kako odlučuju tko pripada, a tko ne?
Lagos is my home. You can always find the Nigerians by following the noise and the dancing, right?
Moj dom je Lagos. Nigerijce lako pronađete ako pratite buku i ples, zar ne?
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
Like any major city, that place is a lot of things, many of which are highly contradictory. Our public transportation doesn't quite work, so we have these privately owned bright yellow buses that regularly cause accidents. Luxury car showrooms line badly maintained and often flooded roads. Street evangelism is only slightly less ubiquitous than street harassment. Sex workers sometimes have two degrees, a bank job and a prominent role in church.
Kao i drugi veliki gradovi, taj grad predstavlja puno stvari, a mnoge su vrlo kontradiktorne. Javni prijevoz baš ne funkcionira, tako da imamo privatne žarko žute autobuse koji redovito uzrokuju nesreće. Luksuzni auto saloni loše se održavaju, ceste su poplavljene. Ulični propovjednici tek su nešto manje sveprisutni od uličnih nasilnika. Prostitutke često imaju dvije diplome, posao u banci i važnu ulogu u crkvi.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
On any given day, there can be either a party or a burned body in the middle of a street.
Svakoga dana možete naići bilo na zabavu ili spaljeni leš nasred ulice.
There is so much that is possible in Lagos and so much that isn't, and very often the difference between possibility and impossibility is simply who you are, and if you're lucky enough, who you're connected to. Belonging in Lagos is a fluid concept determined by ethnic origin, sexual orientation, gender, but most visibly and often most violently, class.
Toliko je mogućnosti u Lagosu, ali i nemogućnosti i često razliku između onoga što je moguće i nemoguće čini ono što ste vi sami, i ako imate sreće - s kim ste povezani. Pripadnost u Lagosu fluidan je koncept, određen etničkim podrijetlom, seksualnom orijentacijom, spolom, ali i onime što je najvidljivije i često najnasilnije, klasom.
Before Nigeria became a country, fisherpeople from the inland creeks started to come down the Lagos lagoon and establish villages along the coast. About 60 years later, my grandfather, Oludotun Adekunle Kukoyi, also arrived in Lagos. Like me, he was an alumnus of the University of Ibadan, a young member of the educated elite in the independence era. Over time, he built an illustrious career as a land surveyor, mapping out now-bustling neighborhoods when they were just waist-high wild grass. He died when I was nine. And by that time, my family, like the families of those fisherpeople, knew Lagos as home.
Prije nego što je Nigerija postala država, ribari iz obližnjih zaljeva pristizali su niz lagunu Lagosa i osnivali sela duž obale. Oko 60 godina kasnije, moj djed Oludotun Adekunle Kukoyi također je došao u Lagos. Poput mene, diplomirao je na Sveučilištu u Ibadanu i bio je mladi pripadnik obrazovane elite u doba neovisnosti. Postupno je gradio sjajnu karijeru geodeta, izrađujući karte sada užurbanih kvartova dok su još bili livade pune visokog korova. Preminuo je kada sam imala 9 godina. Do tog doba su moja obitelj, kao i te ribarske obitelji, Lagos smatrali domom.
Among the Yoruba, we have a saying, "Èkó gb’olè, ó gb’ọ̀lẹ," which can be translated to mean that Lagos will welcome anyone. But that saying is becoming less and less true. Many Lagosians, including the descendants of those fisherpeople who arrived generations before my grandfather, are now being pushed out to make room for an emergent city that has been described as "the new Dubai." You see, Lagos inspires big dreams, even in its leaders, and successive governments have declared aspirations towards a megacity where poverty does not exist. Unfortunately, instead of focusing on the eradication of poverty as you would expect, the strategy of choice focuses on eliminating the poor.
Postoji izreka naroda Yoruba: "Èkó gb’olè, ó gb’ọ̀lẹ," koja znači da Lagos svakome želi dobrodošlicu. No, ta izreka postaje sve manje istinita. Mnogi Lagošani, uključujući potomke onih ribara koji su pristigli generacijama prije mog djeda, sada se izbacuju da bi napravili prostora za grad u nastajanju, "novi Dubai". Lagos potiče snove, čak i među svojim vođama, i vlade su jedna za drugom pokazivale težnju prema megapolisu u kojem ne postoji siromaštvo. Nažalost, umjesto da se usredotoče na iskorjenjivanje siromaštva, kako biste očekivali, plan im je ukloniti siromašne.
Last October, the Governor announced plans to demolish every single waterfront settlement in Lagos. There are more than 40 of these indigenous communities all over the city, with over 300,000 people living in them. Otodo Gbame, a hundred-year-old fishing village with a population about three-quarters that of Monaco and similar potential for beachfront luxury --
U listopadu prošle godine guverner je najavio uništenje svih domova uz obalu u Lagosu. Više je od 40 tih autohtonih zajednica diljem grada, a u njima živi preko 300.000 ljudi. Otodo Gbame, ribarsko selo staro stotinu godina, veličine triju četvrtine Monaka, sa sličnim potencijalom obalnog luksuza...
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
was one of the first to be targeted.
prvi je bio na meti.
I first heard of Otodo Gbame after the demolition started. When I visited in November 2016, I met Magdalene Aiyefoju. She is a now-homeless woman whose surname means, "the world is blind." Magdalene's son Basil was one of over 20 people who were shot, drowned or presumed dead in that land grab. Standing outside her shelter, I saw the two white-sand football fields where Basil used to play. Spread all around us were the ruins of schools, churches, a primary health center, shops, thousands of homes. Young children enthusiastically helped to put up shelters, and about 5,000 of the residents, with nowhere else to go, simply stayed put. And then in April, state security personnel came back. This time, they cleared the community out completely, with beatings, bullets and fire. As I speak, there are construction crews preparing Otodo Gbame's beaches for anyone who can afford a multi-million-dollar view. The new development is called "Periwinkle Estate."
Za Otodo Gbame sam čula kada je krenulo rušenje. Posjetila sam ga u studenome 2016. i upoznala Magdalene Aiyefoju. Ona je sada beskućnica, čije prezime znači "svijet je slijep". Magdalenin sin Basil jedan je od preko 20 ljudi koji su ustrijeljeni, utopljeni, ili se smatraju poginulima tijekom te krađe zemlje. Ispred njezinog skrovišta dva su pješčana nogometna igrališta na kojima se Basil igrao. Oko nas širile su se ruševine škola, crkava, ambulante, trgovina, na tisuće domova. Djeca su zaneseno pomagala izgraditi skloništa, a oko 5.000 stanovnika koji nisu imali kamo, jednostavno su ostali tamo gdje jesu. U travnju državni zaštitari su se vratili. Ovoga puta potpuno su ispraznili zajednicu batinama, mecima i vatrom. Dok ovo govorim, građevinari pripremaju plaže u Otodo Gbameu za svakoga tko si može priuštiti pogled vrijedan milijune dolara. Novi kompleks zove se "Periwinkle Estate".
Forced evictions are incredibly violent and, of course, unconstitutional. And yet, they happen so often in so many of our cities, because the first thing we are taught to forget about poor people is that they are people. We believe that a home is a thing a person absolutely has a right to, unless the person is poor and the home is built a certain way in a certain neighborhood. But there is no single definition of the word "home." After all, what is a slum besides an organic response to acute housing deficits and income inequality? And what is a shanty if not a person making a home for themselves against all odds? Slums are an imperfect housing solution, but they are also prime examples of the innovation, adaptability and resilience at the foundation -- and the heart -- of every functional city. You don't need to be the new Dubai when you're already Lagos.
Prisilne deložacije jako su nasilne i, naravno, neustavne. A ipak se događaju tako često u mnogim našim gradovima, jer prvo nas uče da zaboravimo kod siromašnih da su i oni ljudi. Vjerujemo da ljudi imaju svako pravo na dom, osim ako su to siromašni i ako dom nije izgrađen na određen način, u određenom kvartu. No, ne postoji jedna definicija riječi "dom". Što je straćara nego organski odgovor na akutni nedostatak smještaja i nejednakost u primanjima? I baraka je dom koji je netko stvorio za sebe, usprkos svemu. Straćare su nesavršena stambena rješenja, ali i vrhunski primjer inovacije, prilagodljivosti i fleksibilnosti u temeljima... i srcu... svakog funkcionalnog grada. Ne moraš biti novi Dubai ako si već Lagos.
(Applause)
(Pljesak)
We have our own identity, our own rhythm, and as anyone who knows Lagos can tell you, poor Lagosians are very often the source of the city's character. Without its poor, Lagos would not be known for its music or its endless energy or even the fact that you can buy an ice cold drink or a puppy through your car window.
Imamo svoj vlastiti identitet, svoj ritam i svatko tko poznaje Lagos reći će vam da su siromašni Lagošani često izvor duha u gradu. Bez siromašnih Lagos ne bi bio poznat po glazbi, ili beskrajnoj energiji, ili mogućnosti kupovine hladnog pića ili štenca kroz prozor automobila.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
The conditions that cause us to define certain neighborhoods as slums can be effectively improved, but not without recognizing the humanity and the agency of the people living in them. In Lagos, where public goods are rarely publicly available, slum dwellers are often at the forefront of innovating solutions. After being disconnected from the grid for months because the power company couldn't figure out how to collect bills, one settlement designed a system that collectivized remittances and got everyone cheaper rates into the bargain. Another settlement created a reform program that hires local bad boys as security. They know every trick and every hideout, so now troublemakers are more likely to get caught and reported to police and fewer of the youth end up engaging in criminal activity. Yet another settlement recently completed a flood-safe, eco-friendly communal toilet system. Models like these are being adopted across Lagos.
Uvjeti prema kojima kvartove proglašavamo straćarama mogu se značajno poboljšati, ali ne ako ne prepoznamo humanost i trud ljudi koji u njima žive. U Lagosu gdje su javna dobra rijetko javno dostupna, žitelji straćara često predvode u inovativnim rješenjima. Nakon što su mjesecima bili bez struje, jer opskrbljivač nije znao kako naplatiti račune, jedan je kvart osmislio sustav kolektivne naplate i svima priskrbio jeftiniju struju. Drugi je kvart osmislio reformu u kojoj su lokalni nasilnici angažirani kao zaštitari. Oni znaju sve trikove i sva skrovišta pa je veća vjerojatnost da će se huligani uhvatiti i privesti policiji, a i da će se manje mladih baviti kriminalom. Drugo je naselje nedavno napravilo ekološki komunalni sustav zahoda zaštićen od poplava. Takvi se modeli usvajaju diljem Lagosa.
Informal settlements are incorrectly named as the problem. In fact, the real problems are the factors that create them, like the entrenchment of poverty, social exclusion and state failures. When our governments frame slums as threats in order to justify violent land grabs or forced evictions, they're counting on those of us who live in formal housing to tacitly and ignorantly agree with them. Rather, we must remind them that governments exist to serve not only those who build and live in luxury homes, but also those who clean and guard them. Our --
Ovakve četvrti neispravno se smatraju problemom. Zapravo, stvarni problem su čimbenici koji ih stvaraju, poput ukorijenjenog siromaštva, marginalizacije društva i neuspjeha same države. Kada država straćare proglasi prijetnjom, kako bi opravdala nasilnu otimačinu ili prisilne deložacije, računaju da ćemo se mi, koji živimo u uređenim domovima, prešutno i ignorantski složiti s njima. Umjesto toga, moramo ih podsjetiti da vlast postoji kako bi služila ne samo onima koji grade i žive u luksuznim domovima, već i onima koji te domove čiste i čuvaju. Naše...
(Applause)
(Pljesak)
our realities may differ, but our rights don't.
Naše se stvarnosti mogu razlikovati, ali naša prava ne.
The Lagos state government, like far too many on our continent, pays lip service to ideas of inclusion, while acting as though progress can only be achieved by the erasure, exploitation and even elimination of groups it considers expendable. People living with disabilities who hawk or beg on Lagos streets are rounded up, extorted and detained. Women in low-income neighborhoods are picked up and charged with prostitution, regardless of what they actually do for a living. Gay citizens are scapegoated to distract from real political problems. But people, like cities, are resilient, and no amount of legislation or intimidation or violence can fully eliminate any of us. Prostitutes, women and women who work as prostitutes still haven't gone extinct, despite centuries of active suppression. Queer Africans continue to exist, even though queerness is now criminalized in most parts of the continent. And I'm fairly certain that poor people don't generally tend to just disappear because they've been stripped of everything they have.
Vladajući u Lagosu, kao i mnogi na našem kontinentu, propagiraju ideje uključivosti, a istovremeno djeluju kao da napredak ovisi isključivo o brisanju, iskorištavanju i eliminaciji skupina koje smatraju potrošnima. Invalidi koji torbare ili prose na ulicama Lagosa okupljaju se, muče i zatvaraju. Žene u siromašnim četvrtima skupljaju i optužuju za prostituciju, bez obzira čime se stvarno bave. Gay osobe služe kao žrtvena janjad za odvraćanje od pravih političkih problema. No, ljudi su, poput gradova, otporni, i nikakvi zakoni, zastrašivanje ili nasilje ne mogu nas potpuno ukloniti. Prostitutke, žene i žene koje se bave prostitucijom još nisu izumrle, bez obzira na stoljeća aktivnog suzbijanja. Queer osobe u Africi i dalje postoje, premda je to kazneno djelo na većem dijelu kontinenta. I prilično sam sigurna da siromašni nemaju namjeru nestati samo zato što im je oteto sve što su imali.
We are all already here, and that answers the question of whether or not we belong.
Svi smo već tu i to je odgovor na pitanje pripadamo li ili ne.
When those fisherpeople started to sail down the lagoon in search of new homes, it could not have occurred to them that the city that would rise up around them would one day insist that they do not belong in it. I like to believe that my grandfather, in mapping new frontiers for Lagos, was trying to open it up to make room for other people to be welcomed by the city in the same way that he was. On my way here, my grandma called me to remind me how proud she was, how proud [my grandfather] and my mother would have been. I am their dreams come true. But there is no reason why their dreams -- or mine, for that matter -- are allowed to come true while those of others are turned to nightmares. And lest we forget: the minimum requirement for a dream is a safe place to lay your head.
Kada su oni ribari plovili lagunom u potrazi za novim domom, nisu mogli ni pomisliti da će ih grad koji će se razviti oko njih, jednog dana uvjeravati da tu ne pripadaju. Želim vjerovati da je moj djed, prilikom crtanja granica Lagosa, nastojao otvoriti ga i napraviti mjesta za druge ljude koji bi bili dobrodošli u grad, kao što je i on bio. Na putu ovamo zvala me baka da me podsjeti kako je ponosna na mene, kako bi djed i majka bili ponosni. Ja sam ispunjenje njihovog sna. Ali nema razloga da se njihovi snovi, ili čak moji, ispunjavaju, dok se snovi drugih pretvaraju u noćne more. Da ne zaboravimo: minimalan zahtjev za snove je sigurno mjesto gdje ćete nasloniti glavu.
It is too late now for Basil, but not for Magdalene, not for the hundreds of thousands, the millions still under threat in Lagos or any of our cities. The world does not have to remain blind to the suffering that is created when we deny people's humanity, or even to the incredible potential for growth that exists when we recognize and value all contributions.
Za Basila je prekasno, ali za Magdalene nije, kao ni za stotine tisuća, milijune kojima se prijeti u Lagosu, ili u našim drugim gradovima. Svijet ne mora biti slijep na patnje koje stvaramo kada uskratimo ljudskost, niti na ogroman potencijal za rast koji postoji kada prepoznamo i cijenimo sve doprinose.
We must hold our governments and ourselves accountable for keeping our shared cities safe for everyone in them, because the only cities worth building -- indeed, the only futures worth dreaming of -- are those that include all of us, no matter who we are or how we make homes for ourselves.
Vladajuće i sebe moramo smatrati odgovornima za sigurnost zajedničkih gradova za sve, jer gradovi koje zaista vrijedi graditi, budućnosti koje vrijedi sanjati, uključuju sve nas, bez obzira na to tko smo ili kako stvaramo svoje domove.
Thank you.
Hvala.
(Applause)
(Pljesak)