Emanuela was waiting for me
outside the airport.

We loaded the suitcases
on an old grey Fiat Tipo

and we headed to his house.

After 20 endless, dark minutes,

the car stopped near a gate.

Emanuela, a hundred meters before,

began honking to get the attention

of someone beyond the fence.

We waited a few moments

before two strange shadows
usher our way to the house.

One of them had a ski mask
and a huge torn black sweater.

The other one was wearing
a baseball hat and a grey bomber.

They both were wearing
tight and patched trousers.

They were the night watchmen.

They helped me with the suitcases

and they sat in front
of my bedroom window.

They spoke to each other softly
in an unknown language.

It was a bit like listening to a lullaby.

I fell asleep after a few minutes.

I had a quick breakfast the morning after

and went through that gate again.

I ended up in the middle
of a crowded street

dressed mostly in rags.

I saw a swarm of children
with faded aprons.

The air was unbreathably hot and wet.

Old cars sprouted black smoke 
from the exhaust pipes

as they accelerated to overcome
the wooden carts,

pulled by humped oxen
or pushed by skinny men.

I slipped into a flea market.

The stench of the drains alternated
with the scent of spices.

Meat hanging down,
wrapped in swarms of flies,

dried fresh fish, season
vegetables, tropical fruit,

everything was exposed on wooden stalls

and then, there was everything.

Buttons, pots, blankets,
bike replacement parts,

eggs, Chinese radios, total chaos.

It was March 1, 2006.

I was Finally in Africa, Madagascar.

Only two days ago I was in a suit and tie

in the bank office I would shortly resign.

I had decided to change my life.

I created with some friends
the Mangwana association,

which means “Tomorrow”, “Future”.

We had the idea to start
a soccer school for street children.

So I gave all up
and I left for three months.

Then I stayed for 12 years.

Madagascar, in the collective imagination,

is the country of biodiversity:

there are untained forests,
heavenly beaches.

Madagascar is also known
for a famous cartoon

with cute little animals
like lemurs and fossas.

I have crossed the whole country,
from its plateau to the shores,

and I’ve found something very different.

I saw women queued for hours
at the gates of the freezones,

which are textile facilities' sheds,

hoping to find a job

with no contract, insurance
or social security of any kind.

to a little more than one euro a day,

with only one guarantee:

if they didn’t show up once,

they would lose the job.

I saw children cracking stones
on the street in the dust all day,

under the sun, without water and food.

I saw some Little boys in mica mines

or others ones looking
for precious stones.

Hills were eroded by landslides
due to massive deforestation,

vast territories are becoming deserts,

once virgin beaches are now crowded
with tourist facilities.

I'm always been a sailor.

I had a boat moored in Viareggio
on the Burlamacca canal

and in those years I was also a skipper.

I went to Madagascar also

because I have always been fascinated
by the stories of pirates.

On the island of Nosibora, better known
by its French name of Saint Marie.

By following a map
you can reach a cemetery

where corsairs and buccaneers are buried,

including the infamous William Kidd.

I was in front of the headstones
in this lost corner of the world,

when I realized that pirates still exist

and are looting Madagascar.

They are the foreigners, multinationals,
corrupt governments.

They no longer use galleons,
sabres and cannons,

but much more sophisticated
and devastating systems

that have catchy names

like “Land Grabbing”
and “Biodiversity Offsetting”.

Land grabbing mans, literally,
the hoarding of the land.

It’s the acquisition of land
by private individuals or states,

usually for monoculture,

in order to meet your country's food needs

or produce bio fuels.

Often these acquisitions do not consider

the sovereignty and rights
of those who live there.

Biodiversity Offsetting
is a biodiversity compensation.

Basically, a multinational company

can plunder and devastate
an entire ecosystem

after promising to recreate a similar one
in a different place.

It’s like devastating an entire area

with the promise to reforest
somewhere else.

Both practices are allowed

by the World Bank
and the European Community.

The result is that Madagascar

is one of the world's
five poorest countries.

90% of its forests have disappeared.

Half of the population is undernourished

and has no access to drinking water.

Fundamental rights
are constantly violated.

I immediately got how dramatic
the situation in Madagascar was

and I dropped the idea
of the football school.

Together with the association,
we created a water network

that piped drinking water
to three villages, about 1000 residents.

But I have seen many projects like that:

wells, hospitals, schools and markets.

A good part of them turned out to be
real "cathedrals in the desert",

with the loss of millions
and millions of Euros.

Some projects did not always meet 
the real beneficiaries’ needs,

because they were planned

and then dropped from above.

I could came back to Italy
to tell all the story,

to report everything.

I knew that I wouldn’t do anything good,

just the ones that came before me.

I had to stay. I really wanted to stay,

but I didn’t know what to do.

Then it dawned on me,

in order to create
something alternative and durable,

I had to learn their mothertongue

and find someone who could
really knew this country,

In other words, I needed a guide,
and I did find one.

Randriamarofara Jean Delphin,
a fantastic man.

One of 11 brothers,
raised on a peasant family,

he spent most of his life abroad

and he came back to his country

to transmit and share
both his knowledge and his experience.

I still remember the first meeting:

we were sitting face to face

and this white and red fabric
on his shoulders,

with the image of Madagascar.

He put a document on the table,

it was a thick book.

And he said to me,
this is the "Wanna" project.

"Vanuna" means both “integrity”
and “responsible man”.

I wrote it,

and I’ll make it real
whether you help me or not.

It was a long conversation,
and he closed it with a warning:

if you really want to do
something for Madagascar

you must be ready to die for this country.

Once I came back to Italy,
I shared it with my father

and he also warned me:

”Watch out Massimiliano,
this is the plan of a new state -

in other words, a revolution."

On March 17, 2009, a coup took place.

I was there those months,

and I directly witnessed

violence, riots, reprisals,
demonstrations, deaths.

The triggering reason

was the agreement between their president
and a South Korean corporation

that provided for the granting

of 1.3 millions of hectares of arable land

to produce wheat and palm oil.

In practice, more than half
of Madagascar arable land.

It was an example of Land Grabbing.

That agreement failed,

but many others didn’t.

In other words, new governments,
still bad old habits.

It's important to note that in Madagascar
land is inherited from ancestors.

It passes down,
generation after generation.

So it’s difficult to find
any official register,

and land grabbers
meet no formal obstacles.

Once they have signed
the agreement with the government,

the population will only have
two possibilities:

you can either leave,
or stay and work in your own land

as an underpaid employee

or even in slavery.

Actually, you can also rebel.

But there's a high chance to die.

So what can communities do

in order to protect their own lands,
rights and houses ?

A solution might be microcredit.

Me and Delphin, we took paper and pen

and repackaged agricultural micro-credit.

I basically found myself in Madagascar,
working as a banker again.

But there is a difference:
we removed all the money.

We don’t borrow money,
we borrow a bag full of seeds.

We give it to Razeeta, who grows them

and at the time of harvest
he gets three bags of rice.

He uses the first bag

to feed his family.

The second bag goes in a community bard,

and then he sells the third one.

He uses the proceeds to buy
the things he need the most

and two more bags of seeds.

He uses one of them
for a second yearly harvest,

and he gives the second one back.

We give this one to Dada.

Another family, another cycle.

An unstoppable multiplying effect
is going to happen.

Microcredit is supported
by community fields,

in order to grant access to land
to people who can’t afford it.

As I told you before,
community barns support microcredit.

This is a powerful financial tool.

Its strength is simplicity.

I dare you to find an investment

which both ensures you equities

and doubles or even triples
their value in 8 months.

There aren't.

The barn is real.

In April's harvest, 100 kilos of rice
are sold for 35 euro.

In December's rainy season,
the value doubles, sometimes triples.

Year after year.

These actions guarantee these families

better life conditions, children’s

education

and healthcare,

forest’s protection and development

and also food sovereignty.

We still talk about food safety

as a solution both
to fight against world hunger

and to ensure enough food to everyone.

But at what cost? Land grabbing, maybe?

Now it’s time to talk
about food sovereignty.

Razama must be free

to farm his own land
in harmony with nature.

He as to be able both to eat quality food

and to pass his knowledge
down to his descendants.

That would be food sovereignity.

Microcredit is only one

of Delphin Project’s actions.

That’s a real silent,
non violent revolution.

When I accepted the risks I was taking
in joining the project,

I thought I was sharing a utopia

but the results came
and the dream became reality.

Women in Madagascar

have very few rights
before being grandmothers.

Olga is 42 years old.

She is the president
of a 1500 people movement.

11 of the 20 members
of the General Assembly

are kids I've been working with
with for 10 years.

I know them since they were babies.

Here are some of their names:
Dago, Justin, Tain, Fatim, Michelle.

They have gained a consciousness
about their rights

that no one could ever
take away from them.

The Vanuna association, together
with its educational and training centre,

have already finished
their first autonomous sustainable year.

In the field of associations
there are lots of examples

that deserve both

to be supported and enhanced.

It’s important for us
both to make the right choice

and get good information
to choose correctly our battles.

Our lifestyle is more important too.

Climate changing and inequities

are constantly under our eyes.

We're running out of time,
we can't ignore them anymore.

All together

we must lead a change
that could save our planet.

And we must do it now,
or it'll be too late.

I could spend hours
making a list of all the actions

which could either preserve the planet
or defend our rights.

Unfortunately, my time is over also.

I’m telling you the most important thing.

I invite you, I urge you
to start making the right questions.

You must also only pick the real answers,
steering away from the convenient ones.

Are bicycles and trains less polluting
than cars and airplanes?

Obviously yes.

By entering a beautiful building,

filled with lights and showcases,

and there's a dress I can buy
for just 9.99 euro,

Is it cheap because of women
and children exploitation?

Yes, it is, and the answer
is on the label.

You are likely to know
a certain product’s supply chain.

You are likely to know 
where, who and when

a certain cosmetic, toothpaste, phone,
or dress has been made.

Everytime they offer
to come to Africa and help,

I suggest to stay in Italy.

The more conscious and responsible we are,

the more useful we can be. Day after day.

One year ago I understood

that my mission in Madagascar
was accomplished, it was finished.

I didn’t need to work there anymore.

They didn’t need me anymore, they now have
both their life and their autonomy.

And that's ok.

I considered doing something else,

Sometimes it happens in life.

I thought myself: “It’s now time to think
both about myself and my family,

I need a decent salary.

”But then I decided to go on.

So much work to be done.

I want a better future
for my children, who are here.

So I decided to go on.

I thought I would replicate
everything I did in Madagascar,

in Senegal too.

I'll talk about this
in another TEDx speech.

Last February

I was in the Fianarantsoa
Educational Centre’s balcony,

I was watching the children
playing in the backyard.

At one point Olga came to me,

and she said:

“You know Massimo,
I’m more then 40 years old,

and I’d really like to become a mother.

I want it with my body and soul.

It always will be
an unfulfilled desire, thought.

You know, If I had a baby

I'd give him all my love
and all the attentions he needs;

I would raise him the best I could.”

Then she sighed a bit and she said,

as she was watching tenderly
that backyard:

“If I had a baby, who would raise
all these other children?"

Delphin and Olga represent
both integrity and strength.

I'm inspired by this kind of people.

Thanks.

(Applause)