Speech by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees at the University of Nairobi

Dear Vice-Chancellor,

Dear Principal Secretary,

Dear students,

Ambassadors,

Colleagues: from the UN and Resident Coordinator — from the aid community — from UNHCR,

Ladies and gentlemen:

What a privilege and a great pleasure to be here today! I have been looking forward so much to this event. I think you all know — and can imagine — that I speak in many places. But I specially value opportunities to speak at universities. For the ideas and the energies which universities generate. For your enthusiasm and willingness to innovate. And we cannot talk about “solutions” — you will hear this word many times in the next half hour! —  without considering the critical role that the academic community has to play.

And allow me to start by thanking the University of Nairobi. Thank you, both Vice-Chancellor and Principal Secretary, for your very kind and important words. And of course, thank you all for being here and to all of you who are listening online. I also understand that the school term has just ended — and I appreciate those students who are here and who stretched school time a bit to come today: very special thanks to you, because what I want to talk about concerns — also — our common future, and that future is yours.

You all know (I hope!) what I do — I have a rather grand and a bit old-fashioned title, “high commissioner for refugees”, sorry about that! It means essentially that I lead UNHCR, the main refugee institution of the United Nations and indeed of the international system. UNHCR is the custodian of fundamental refugee rights, as enshrined in important legal instruments; like the Refugee Convention. It is a big humanitarian agency, helping states respond to refugee crises; but it is also an organization tasked to work with governments, and other stakeholders, to find sustainable, rightful solutions — sometimes temporary, sometimes durable ones — to the problems of people who are forced to flee because of war, persecution and many forms of violence, and of course of those who are generously hosting them — like you have done for decades here in Kenya. And there are many such forcibly displaced people in our troubled world: 120 million at our latest count, including refugees and people who seek refuge within their own country, whom we call internally displaced. 120 million: more than double, if I am not mistaken, the population of Kenya!

You may be asking yourselves — how are refugees an issue of common concern to me, to you? Well, in recent years and in many countries, especially in some countries of the so-called “global North”, the issue of forced displacement — refugees, other displaced people — has been at the centre of the political debate. Unfortunately, very often, this is not the result of healthy politics — which should look at solutions for this challenge — but of political manipulation — which aims mostly at gaining votes and winning elections.

Earlier this month, at Georgetown University, in Washington, DC, I spoke of large-scale movements of people — a big problem in the Americas – of refugees and migrants together (we call these “mixed movements”) across continents, along routes that are literally “hemispheric”, in search of safety or opportunity. I spoke of the very real dangers that these people face — violence, extortion, torture, even death — as they travel over seas, or through deserts and jungles. Often at the mercy of criminals, smugglers, traffickers.

You may remember the terrible images of refugees and migrants languishing in abusive detention centres in Libya, broadcasted by media a few years back, sending waves of outrage across the world — especially in sub-Saharan Africa. Yet, we continue to see desperate people literally selling their lives to criminal traffickers. And they are just the tip of the iceberg of the “forced displacement” phenomenon.

This is why, at Georgetown University, I set out the concrete actions that can be taken to address root causes, stabilize population flows, protect forcibly displaced people as they move and provide them with opportunities. Because we must recognize that opportunities exist. That solutions — here is that word again — exist. And they do not concern only the people on the move. They concern all of us, whether we are refugees or not. Forced displacement and irregular migration are global issues, as important for our future — for your future — as climate change, pandemics or peace and security.

And that’s what I want to reflect on today. Instead of repeating flawed recipes from the past, can we address this global challenge in new ways? In Kenya and beyond, what are the opportunities for stability and genuine solutions that we can create for people on the move, and for the communities hosting them, when we combine the right ingredients – the right policies, the right vision, the right leadership, and yes, the right international support?

Now, I am not naïve. In the world today one has few reasons for hope. War is what forces most refugees to flee, and the world seems to be unable to stop — let alone prevent conflict. Or maybe — and that is much worse — it has become unwilling to make peace. The very institutions created to prevent war are broken. The United Nations’ Security Council is fractured, paralyzed. Regional institutions — in Europe certainly, but also in Africa — are being severely tested by anti-democratic forces, by nativist and xenophobic ideas. And the price of this dysfunction is there for all to see. In Sudan, in the Sahel, in Ukraine, in Gaza.

When you add the devastating effects of climate change — felt so tragically in Kenya and across the region — when you add economic crises and pandemics; when you add new and unregulated technologies that are distorting our sense of reality and, sometimes, undermining our shared values; when you add it all up the challenges seem overwhelming. The temptation is to turn inwards. To surrender to what I call the “narrative of impossibility”.

In many places, that narrative – “it’s impossible” – has come to define the response to forced displacement. The unprecedented numbers of uprooted people are used to fuel resentment and the false statement that nothing can be done to address the problem. That the only choice possible is to adopt brutal, and frankly ineffective, policies: building walls, stopping boats, making it impossible to seek refuge, or countless other cynical political slogans that may attract votes but that fail to address the issues.

People do not flee their homes in a vacuum. Allow conflicts to fester, and forced displacement rises. Do nothing about climate change, and forced displacement will rise. Condemn refugees to destitution, and they will remain refugees for longer. Deny them safety and opportunities, and criminal networks will lose no time to fill the void.

Of course many in Kenya, in Africa and beyond are familiar with what forced displacement entails. Sometimes as people who had to escape war and persecution, sometimes as hosts to refugees and displaced people; and sometimes from both perspectives. Mercifully in Africa, and you should be proud of that, the prevailing narrative remains one of solidarity. I see examples of this time and again in my travels. But we must not take that generosity for granted. And how could we? Because, and I repeat this often, contrary to what we are told by many, most forcibly displaced people — 75% according to our latest report — are in countries of the “global South” — like your country.

People only flee their homes when they have no choice. In fact, more displaced people stay within their countries — are internally displaced — than cross international borders. Something we tend to forget. And of those who are forced (and able) to seek safety outside their homeland, and who therefore become asylum-seekers or refugees, more than two-thirds live in countries neighbouring their own — often countries with limited resources.

Therefore it is important for me to thank you, Kenya, for your generosity in hosting refugees decade after decade, because we know that it comes at a cost. And it is important to thank all other host countries and communities in Africa and beyond. I just arrived in Nairobi couple of days ago after spending time in Sudan and South Sudan. I talked to many fleeing the devastating Sudan war. I saw the generosity of communities offering them hospitality. But I also saw the pressures on infrastructure, on public services, on institutions. These pressures weigh particularly heavy, for example, on a country as young and fragile as South Sudan, but the same holds true wherever you look — Uganda, Ethiopia, Tanzania, Rwanda… and further afield, in places like Bangladesh, Pakistan, Colombia, Lebanon, Jordan. And of course, here in Kenya. Hosting large numbers of refugees is difficult and comes with a high cost.

So, by all means, let’s be clear-eyed about the size and complexity of the challenge. If we want to be able to design responses that are effective, we must accept reality as it is, as uncomfortable as that may be. And the reality is that, indeed, forced displacement is on the rise. And by the way if the trend of the last decade holds, these numbers will continue to rise. We know that, in the absence of opportunities for people to return, forced displacement lasts longer. That much is clear. And it is equally clear that there are no quick solutions, no silver bullets.

So, what can we do? What is the narrative of possibility, rather than impossibility?

First, let me state the obvious. Peace. There is no substitute for peace. Peace is more effective than any amount of humanitarian assistance. We must add our voice to others in the call for peace – urgently – in Sudan, in Gaza and so many other places around the globe. Forcibly displaced people long to return home. And provided there is peace, even imperfect peace, they will. I must underline here that return must always remain the choice of refugees and displaced people themselves. Returns must be voluntary. They must respect the dignity of those who choose to return. Returns cannot be imposed any more than peace can be artificially decreed when politically convenient.

Unfortunately peace fails too often these days. And so, situations of forced displacement endure – stagnating for years, sometimes decades. During that period, it remains important to uphold the safety and rights of those displaced, while in parallel searching for solutions to their plight. For proof that this is what happens, you only need to look at situations in this region — in Ethiopia, Uganda, Kenya itself. Large return movements have proven elusive. So, once an emergency is less acute, and while waiting for as long as refugees or displaced people cannot return home, there is space to act. We must look for better ways to sustain the necessary commitment to protection — “international protection”, as we call it, in the case of refugees, who have lost the protection of their own state; but also protection of the internally displaced.

This is where it becomes complicated.

Responding to emergencies, quickly reaching the people affected, staying and delivering is vital– these are essential humanitarian functions which must continue to be carried out and supported. And in the first days and weeks of a crisis, when humanitarian needs are most acute, the focus is on life-saving activities. As it must be.

But as we set up and scale up humanitarian responses, we must avoid getting stuck in a loop of recurrent short-term solutions. We simply cannot afford — and I mean this literally — afford not to think beyond the first phase of a crisis.

In the last three years, UNHCR has declared 118 emergencies worldwide. That’s an emergency every 10 days. Traditionally, responding to one of these crises has involved setting up infrastructure where none or little existed. Clinics, schools, latrines and so on. And as the humanitarian response shifts away from the initial emergency phase, some of these activities soon get locked in. More than half of the 120 million people I have mentioned earlier have been displaced for five years or more. And meanwhile more people continue to arrive. Needs continue to grow. And it becomes difficult if not impossible to move away from these short-term activities, what we sometimes call the “care and maintenance” model. Almost half of our budget, of UNHCR’s budget in the past three years has been spent propping up these systems — what I call almost refugee or displacement “bubbles”. Humanitarian systems that often run parallel to national systems. That sometimes even drive a wedge between displaced populations and the communities that host them – especially when services are available to some but not the others.

Maintaining such systems year after year is inefficient. It is risky. It diverts resources away from core activities. It does not bring advantages to host communities. “Care and maintenance,” as we call it, is subject to the unpredictability of humanitarian funding, which has become very volatile. And what do we do when that funding runs out? As happens all the time. We have seen these dynamics, if I may say, play out here in Kenya too, in Dadaab for example: a protracted refugee situation addressed through “care and maintenance” literally for decades, resulting in misery for refugees, tensions with host communities, and insecurity for all. This is when refugees become a true burden on the host nation. This is when — also — some of the displaced decide to move on and create those complex movements I mentioned earlier.

The last few years have taught us that, from the very first days of a humanitarian response, we must work closely with development actors. Always with governments in the lead, and always involving forcibly displaced people and the communities that host them. We have learned that there is no such thing as a humanitarian-only response. We have learned that the only solution is to bring host communities and forcibly displaced people closer together.

We started to promote this shift a few years ago. We agreed with some of the governments hosting large number of refugees that rather than creating parallel systems, we should invest in inclusion. Including refugees or internally displaced people in national and local services, like health and education. Including them in economic terms by allowing them to work, to produce, to contribute. Giving them the necessary legal status to achieve this. Including them — to sum up — in national planning. And at the same time, a number of donor countries agreed that they should support host communities — often as fragile as the displaced themselves — and contribute to those services, to that infrastructure and to that economic development of host countries. Uganda, for example, allows refugee children to attend its schools — and we have promoted investments in the Ugandan education system to support that inclusive policy. That way, everybody benefits.

This shift to inclusion is one of the most powerful tools we have in the search for solutions. The Global Compact on Refugees — which the United Nations adopted in 2018 — is built on the idea of inclusion. And yet I have often seen how that word – inclusion – can make some governments uncomfortable. Particularly in some countries that have hosted refugees for a long time. Countries that, when they hear “inclusion”, hear the indefinite hosting of refugees coupled with a lack of political and financial interest from the international community. Countries that fear, with some justification, that they are being left to carry the responsibility for refugees alone.

This is why it is important to clarify what inclusion means.

First, it does not prevent the return of refugees or displaced people to their places of origin. Not at all. The Global Compact on Refugees is clear on that issue. Its objectives in fact include both building refugee self-reliance and creating conditions for safe and dignified returns. And you all understand that self-reliant refugees are better equipped to go back to their countries, they have better skills and tools to do that.

Second, inclusion is an investment in refugee self-reliance. But also in the communities hosting them — much more so than the traditional model based on short-term humanitarian aid. In fact, the refugee compact articulates a vision for inclusion where all stakeholders can benefit — refugees, host communities, governments, civil society, the private sector, and, yes, universities too.

Third, inclusion is also about internally displaced people. This should be less complex — they are nationals in their own country — but at times it can prove challenging, and needs attention. The United Nations Secretary-General two years ago launched an initiative to promote solutions for internally displaced people, which is being rolled out.

Naturally, all of this needs substantial investment. I have been making this case with donors — including governments of countries in the global North worried about those “mixed movements” I mentioned earlier. I have been advising them — stop focusing so obsessively on making your borders more difficult to cross; or on building exclusively control systems along the routes taken by people on the move. Instead, invest more in countries hosting large numbers of refugees, or even in countries in conflict with large internal displacement. This would accomplish two things: help those countries better manage population movements; and give people on the move more opportunities in the places they have settled. It would in turn help stabilize population movements and, as I said, pave the way for returns or other solutions.

I was encouraged to see, in the final statement of the G7, a few days ago, references to whole-of-route migration and refugee strategies. I admit, the overall focus, by the G7, remains skewed toward controls. But there is also a welcome understanding that effective solutions must look — obviously — at root causes, at peace and security and solving conflict — but also at aid and investments in the places where vulnerable populations on the move are most present, like here.

The shift to inclusion and to strengthening host countries and communities means also working more effectively with development partners. We have witnessed the transformation that development action, concrete development action can bring when smartly joined up with humanitarian responses. It is not about “bridging the gap” between humanitarian and development work, but rather bringing in development aid right at the outset of emergencies, in lockstep with humanitarian aid.  We are learning to work with international financial institutions, including the World Bank and the African Development Bank, just to mention these two, but also with bilateral development organizations like the Japanese JICA or German BMZ, and many others. We are learning to work with the private sector as a development partner, with great support from the International Finance Corporation of the World Bank Group.

A more predictable role by development actors in direct support to governments is the only way to make the initial response sustainable.

Today, I can point to the fruit of that labour. In Kenya alone, the World Bank has mobilized US$230 million — out of US$4 billion allocated globally in the past few years through a special fund for countries hosting large numbers of refugees; and the International Finance Corporation (the private sector arm of the World Bank) has been working with us and the Government of Kenya on creating business investment opportunities in an otherwise unlikely place like Kakuma, in Turkana County. In southern Ethiopia, thanks to the IKEA Foundation — you all know IKEA — we have planted the seeds of a development programme centered around a Somali refugee camp — to the benefit of the entire community, nationals and refugees alike.

The inclusive model is premised on a simple truth: that refugees and displaced people have agency.

That, given the opportunity, they contribute. They add, build and enrich. When we include and invest in them, they return that investment many times over. And not only in economic terms — as important as that is — but also socially, culturally, in peaceful coexistence, and in so many other ways.

Now, there are some who might argue that none of this is new. That the inclusion model, and more generally the architecture of the so-called humanitarian-development-peace nexus, is not a new endeavour. That only the terminology changes. This is partly true — but surely, at least in some refugee contexts, we have advanced now much more than in the past.

Humanitarian agencies are trying to change. The UNHCR of today is not the UNHCR of 10 years ago. Our systems went through an intensive modernization process. We have invested heavily in data. To measure and build evidence, including on aspects of forced displacement that have not been traditionally our areas of expertise. On the socio-economic impacts of hosting refugees and internally displaced people. On access to labour markets. On the effect of forced displacement on public finances. Research and data that we publish and make available for collaboration. And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the excellent work of the World Bank and UNHCR Joint Data Center on Forced Displacement. I encourage you to reach out to them with your ideas. And I am happy that earlier today we launched the Refugee Resource Centre here at the University of Nairobi.

All this progress has enabled us to acquire a wealth of knowledge about what is effective and sustainable. Equally if not even more critically, it has enabled us to understand what doesn’t work. What is not sustainable. And if I may speak on your behalf, so have you, here in Kenya. Bringing displaced people and host communities together: that is the essence, the soul of the new plan for refugees and host communities — called Shirika, “working together” in KiSwahili — which the government of Kenya has embraced and is leading, with our full support.

Shirika was born out of some fundamental elements on how to address a long-standing refugee crisis in a novel way. A response based on some simple, but fundamental approaches:

To live together — by integrating refugee settlements into new municipalities.

To learn together — by opening up schools to everyone, whether displaced or not.

To heal together — at clinics that serve everyone.

To be stronger together — by creating communities that are more resilient to climate impacts.

To work and grow together — by promoting economic investment. Opening up market opportunities for the private sector and creating employment for all.

And all of this, and much more obviously, led by government, at the central and county level. And supported by development banks, bilateral donors, the United Nations system and hopefully the private sector.

It is a bold plan. It is an ambitious plan. But it is also a rational plan.

Rational because as we have seen in this region and beyond — in Rwanda, in Ethiopia, but also in Colombia, Brazil, Türkiye — refugee inclusion spurs economic growth. It broadens the tax base. It generates trade. It recognizes the skills and talents of forcibly displaced people and puts those skills to use for the benefit of all. Sudanese refugees now work as doctors, teachers, or engineers in South Sudan, improving the wellbeing of all that country’s residents.

The economic argument is clear. But it is not always sufficient. Inclusion will always require political courage. It might mean challenging the established narrative or disrupting the status quo. It requires effective policies that enable inclusion — for example laws that grant greater freedom of movement and expand the right to work. And inclusion certainly cannot succeed without giving a voice to the communities themselves — refugees and their hosts at the local level.

Allow me to leave you with three simple prescriptions.

First, all of you have a role to play. The management of refugees and displaced people can no longer be seen as the preserve of one ministry, or one authority alone. Creating the right policy environment; developing the right legal frameworks; finding the right words to communicate these changes to the public opinion — will require the involvement of all stakeholders. We speak of whole-of-government and whole-of-society: for once, I think, UN language is quite effective in describing the concept.

Second, efforts towards inclusion and self-reliance — the efforts I have described — will take time, and will need to be supported financially, especially when host countries, countries like Kenya, take political risks. Donors have a critical role to play in mobilizing additional development funding. We at UNHCR will advocate for these approaches. We will support them by bringing development actors with us from the beginning of a crisis, as I mentioned earlier. And we will support you by making the business case for investment to companies and employers.

We will be the staunchest allies of countries like Kenya, which embrace this new approach.

But, and that is my third and final point, if this shift is to succeed everybody must be brave.

So I say:

To the policy makers in the room today and beyond. To my colleagues. Be bold. Be determined. Do not be defeated by the scale of the challenge and let us write together a narrative of “possibility”!

To the students — you are the leaders of tomorrow. Help us learn. Help us innovate. Indeed, with your knowledge and enthusiasm, do that.

And to all displaced people — thank you. For inspiring us. For teaching us about humility and resilience. For showing us hope — which we must help you make sustainable.

We will not disappoint you.