Transcriber: Annika Bidner Reviewer: Denise RQ
(Singing a yoik)
(Applause)
Thank you.
That song "You can hear the wind" was a wind song.
My people is the indigenous people of Sweden, Finland, Norway, and Russia:
Sami people.
But wherever I go, all over the world,
the wind and the sun will always follow my path,
as we are also called "the people of wind and the sun".
And we live here: that is Sápmi, Sami land.
My name is Sofia Jannok, and I am from that land.
And I just arrived this morning to Mumbai.
Quite a contrast.
The nice guy who picked us up said, "You know what, this is winter in Mumbai."
I'm like, "Hey, you don't know anything about winter.
That, my friend, is winter. Minus 36 degrees."
Have you seen the movie Avatar?
You know that big Hollywood production
with spectacular 3D effects and blue people, signed James Cameron?
However, I saw it last year and it hit me like an arrow towards my chest.
For those of you who haven't seen it, I can explain the plot.
It's about the human race, in a future where they have destroyed Mother Earth,
emptied Her of all resources,
and now started to find other planets to invade.
A big mining company finds valuable resources
on a [paradisaical] planet full of life, so now they want to invade it.
The problem is that on this planet, there are already other inhabitants.
Blue-skinned people are living there
in perfect harmony with animals and nature.
But the company shows no mercy.
The natives have to be moved or destroyed.
When I saw this movie,
I cried throughout the whole story because it was so familiar.
To me, it was like a painful documentary of present life, my life.
This is how it is for my people,
if not to say for all indigenous people all over the world.
Some big companies, driven by people whose goal is money,
invade our home, force us to move, or simply get rid of us.
Whether you eliminate people by actually killing them,
or by killing the conditions for a life in freedom,
it pretty much makes the same harm.
You can't live if you don't have enough oxygen to breathe.
The difference between the movie and reality
is that the movie has a happy ending.
For those of you who haven't seen it, and don't want to hear the end,
I will now tell it, so you can just close your eyes.
The movie ends with the mining company being forced back,
the planet remaining unexploited,
and the natives keeping on living on their motherland,
happily ever after.
Like all the Hollywood productions end, with a love story, of course.
But, in reality, we are far from that.
We have the same scenario in my land.
The colonization started 400 years ago,
[but what's worse is that it has not ended yet].
Out on the tundra, you need to play by the rules of nature.
Weather, wind, terrain, and daylight,
all make a difference in how to make your movements,
when to wait for snowstorms to pass,
and when to keep on going before the dark hits.
The Sami traditional way of living relies
on the livelihood of reindeer husbandry and on the respect of nature.
Reindeer are free animals.
They wander over great areas.
They know the way to go
because they have always been wandering the same path.
And we, we follow them. We go where reindeer go.
Our population is about 100,000 people.
It could be more.
It feels like we are more, but scientists have trouble counting us.
Maybe because we are a nomadic people, and nomadic people don't sit still,
so it can be hard counting people that don't sit still.
Scientists also call us moribund.
I've been told that I [make] music
in one of the smallest languages in the world.
One day, it will be so small that it disappears.
But I laugh at these reports.
Moribund? Come on. To me, we are very alive.
And I'd like to keep it that way.
The problem is, in a democracy, the majority decides.
Minorities have very little [to say].
This is my grandfather.
He taught my mother, and my mother and father taught me
that we borrow our home from Earth.
We can't own it, we don't possess it.
Since we all only borrow it for the short time we'll be staying here,
we have to leave it the way it was when we first arrived.
Because when we go, our children will need a home,
and their children yet to come will need a home.
Every decision we make, we have to think of the consequences of it,
not only in the nearest decade
but at least four generations ahead, at least 200 years [in advance].
As we all know, this way of thinking is not the only way.
It seems that Sami land --
where my people have been living, like forever,
is a very rich area.
People of government started to come,
they put up flags, they drew borders right across our land,
they cut down hectares of woods.
They drowned our home with water.
They dug big wounds in the mountains.
They forced us to move, to make room for others.
They showed no respect, neither to nature nor to the people living there.
The funny thing is,
although they stole the mountains they forgot to change the name of them,
so each mountain is still carrying their name in our language.
Even the mines do.
The rivers are still singing in Sami.
So, we have not given up. Nor has the land.
Just before coming here to Mumbai, a friend told me, with tears in his eyes,
that he was devastated.
He said, now they are coming.
A mining company has got permission from the Swedish government
to destroy the winter pastures of my friend's reindeer society.
They will dig for copper, and they'll start this February.
The planned mine will cut the reindeer’s natural path
and destroy a huge area of untouched land.
This can mean the end for this reindeer society, and more.
And these are the consequences of one single mine.
There are five more in the same area, and 20 more are waiting for prospecting.
Above the mine, there's always another industry.
The human race consumes more than what Earth can produce.
And due to that, the climate changes remarkably.
In the Arctic area, where I come from, you can clearly see the changes.
Usually, we have a lot of snow this time of year.
Now, there's hardly any.
Glaciers are melting, rainy winters causes icy ground,
which means no food for animals.
You've heard how badly ice bears are drowning,
listen also when I say that reindeer are starving.
I've seen them die, myself.
The poor winters are coming more and more often.
Sweden, where I live, is known as the most modern land in the world,
with a heart of democracy and equality.
Why on earth is it
that the issue of the indigenous people's rights in the same land
has been under investigation for the last 20 years or more?
If we really are moribund,
when will the government start respecting us?
When we are already gone?
I don't want my children to read about me in a museum.
I think it's moving way to slowly.
I'd like to see a change before I leave this earth,
and I'm not the only one.
We might be few, but we are young and proud,
and together with other indigenous people around the world, we are many.
So, what we need is for people to know about our existence.
So I decided to try making a difference.
I started a foundation,
which carries the name of my home tundra, Arvas.
Arvas Foundation is to work
to increase the knowledge about us, to work on the indigenous people's rights,
and on the respect for Mother Earth no matter where we come from.
I dream of a world where Earth is as beautiful as nature can be.
I dream of a world where Sami people,
and all of our sisters and brothers all around the world
are free and independent.
I dream of a happy ending like the one in the movie Avatar.
(Singing a Sami yoik)
[arvasfoundation.com]
(Sami) Thanks. (English) Thank you.
(Applause)