When I left my home in Bangladesh for a job at a garment factory in Jordan six years ago, I had no idea what the future would hold.  But I took an unexpected step that changed my life.

I was 19. My father owned a small fruit shop in Dhaka and my mother worked at home sewing and selling clothes. There are six of us in the family. We could hardly make ends meet.

I thought that I could support the family financially by working in Jordan. I also hoped to save money to go to university.

The first time I went, I worked as a receptionist at a factory in Irbid. When I returned home after my contract ended, I found out that my father had cancer and that our family’s financial problems had worsened. 

In addition to my native language, Bangla, I am fluent in Hindi and in English. So when I went back to Jordan I worked as a liaison officer at a garment factory in Sahab, assisting management and workers to communicate better.

I regularly send money home to help support my family in Bangladesh. 

One day, I met Mr. Arshad, who was an organizer in the General Trade Union of Workers in Textile, Garment, and Clothing Industries. He explained what a union organizer does.

I told Mr. Arshad that it would be a dream come true for me to get the chance to help champion other workers and speak up on behalf of those who cannot.

To my surprise, Mr. Arshad reached out to me a few months later, asking if I was interested in the position. I agreed. 

It was liberating. I was like a fish who had been living in a pond and had moved to a river. I was so honoured to be able to represent migrant workers.

Being multilingual and a good communicator has enabled me to represent and help many workers who only speak their native languages.

I started my work as a union organizer in November 2020. 

One of my top priorities was to identify the issues that migrant workers faced and find solutions through open lines of communication with garment factory management. 

Arranging meetings with workers was a challenge at first because of their long work hours. Many also hesitated to open up, even to a representative from Bangladesh.  Some were afraid of losing their jobs and had managers that had advised them against cooperating with union organizers because they thought we would cause problems.

But I was determined to ensure these workers would get their voices heard. I promised them anonymity and met with them outside of their workplaces to help them feel comfortable enough to express themselves.

I take every opportunity I can to meet with other migrant garment workers.

Some workers do not know how to present their complaints, and others avoid talking about their problems for fear of punishment or losing their jobs.

Some workers, for instance, had been kept on by their employers after their contract ended, but then lost the right to a plane ticket home, or an end of contract bonus. Others have come to me about experiences of sexual harassment. Some reported delays in receiving their salaries or arguments they have had with their supervisors.

In a meeting with a garment factory manager, I raise issues about working conditions that workers have discussed with me. I take great pride in representing them.

Most workers from Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, India and other countries do not speak or read Arabic or English. When instructions, announcements, and financial documents are in these languages, it can create problems for workers. Being multilingual and a good communicator has enabled me to represent and help many workers. 

I feel proud to be able to help them overcome these language barriers.

I have also taken part in different training programmes run by Better Work Jordan, covering issues such as sexual harassment in the workplace, effective communication, personal hygiene, collective bargaining, working conditions, and labour laws. These trainings have positioned me to be an even better advocate for women and migrant workers.

Helping and empowering migrant workers has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

Under COVID-19 restrictions, I could not hold in-person meetings with workers and had to rely on telephone calls to see how the workers were doing. During the lockdown, many workers wanted to return to their countries but could not travel because the airport was shut down. I had to explain the difficult situation and offer counsel to these workers, who often remained stranded in Jordan.

Staying in touch with my family in Bangladesh is very important to me.

Helping and empowering migrant workers has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. Being able to act as their representative gives me a sense of purpose and motivates me to keep moving forward. 

I am also happy to be able to continue to send money back to my family in Bangladesh and feel pride in my representation of other Bengali people.

I plan to become a trainer so I can help migrant workers even more. I also want to do a degree in psychology, which will help me understand people better. 

I think that my success in becoming a union organizer is a success for all of us who are migrant workers in Jordan. 

Over time migrant workers have come to trust me and open up about the issues they face at work.

Sixty million workers across the developing world rely on the garment industry for their livelihoods. The vast majority of these workers are women. 

Better Work, a partnership between the ILO and IFC, brings diverse groups together – governments, global brands, factory owners, and unions and workers – to improve working conditions in the garment industry and make the sector more competitive.

Jordan’s garment sector employs more than 65,000 workers, 72 per cent of whom are women. Migrant workers make up 76 per cent of the workforce, with nearly 80 per cent of workers coming from Bangladesh.  Migrant workers face unique challenges regarding language and representation. 

Better Work Jordan and the General Trade Union of Workers in Textile, Garment and Clothing Industries have signed a two-year memorandum of understanding to collaborate on shared priorities of advancing decent work and inclusive growth, covering all garment workers, including those employed by enterprises not registered with Better Work Jordan.

Global Call to Action for a human-centred recovery

Maya Aktar left her home in Bangladesh to work as a receptionist at a garment factory in Jordan.  She is now a union organizer and advocates for the rights of other migrant garment workers.

I am a champion for migrant workers

Problems always arise when a woman forces her way into a man’s world. Men will wonder “what is she doing here, why doesn’t she cook or sew?” 

This is especially true in Tajikistan, which is a country with certain traditions and family rules.

So, when I launched Atlas Taxi, Good Taxi - the only taxi service in Dushanbe with a woman as its head, people told me: “You are mad.”

I graduated as an economist, had worked at the Ministry of Economy and Development and later as a senior sales manager, then worked on a World Bank project that provided assistance to low-income families.

Although I never stopped my professional development when I got married and had children, becoming a director and a business owner would have been impossible.

But seven years ago, my marriage broke up.  I was alone with three children to care for. I wanted to prove to myself and my children that I was able to achieve whatever I wanted, even in a male-dominated sphere. I was father and mother all in one person. This was probably what prompted me to take the risk.

When a woman becomes boss in a man’s world

I previously worked for a couple of taxi companies so had experience in the transport industry. But my problem was not getting my company going. My problems started when I put a team of drivers together because it was hard for the male drivers to accept orders from a woman. When I gave them instructions they would protest loudly or simply keep silent or pretend they didn’t hear anything. It was hard for me to deal with. I feared that I would be unable to manage this situation or communicate my development plans to my team.

I was dealing with a lot of stress. I was fearful of competition because there were so many taxi services here in Dushanbe. I had taken a risk to launch a taxi company while there were already ten such companies out there.

All of our taxi drivers’ cars get checked by a mechanic before they head out for the day.

I was helped by a course “Company and Idea” for women entrepreneurs, based on the International Labour Organization’s Start and Improve Your Business programme. The mentors taught us how to run a business correctly. So, after listening and talking to them I convinced myself that I was not ‘just a woman’, not ‘just a female manager’. I was a director. This approach helps to change the mindset of women who supervise men’s work in a man’s world. It obliges you to be fair, practice what you preach, be honest to colleagues and employees. Then you will be listened to without being labelled ‘hysterical’.

New drivers attend training on company rules and culture, relationships with customers and the programmes we offer. 

I started out with a team of five. Today we have 12 people at head office and more than 300 drivers. We have a mobile application for both customers and drivers. No such thing existed 5 years ago.

All my staff have an official employment contract and working hours in accordance with the labour code. They are entitled to annual, sick and unpaid leave. 

The drivers are our partners. We hold monthly competitions to encourage them to provide better services.This helps them develop a positive attitude and an understanding that they are part of the team.

We trust our drivers to take care of our passengers. The reputation of the company depends on it. With a new taxi driver, I notice how he behaves, how he answers my questions, whether he responds aggressively.

Why do I have “Good Taxi” in the company name?  Ever since I was a child, I’ve always wanted to help children in need – especially children whose families do not have the resources to provide them with clothes, food or education. When I launched Atlas Taxi, Good Taxi, I decided my company would always stand by vulnerable families. 

Through our mobile application, and our Facebook and Instagram pages, we invite our customers to participate in our charitable activities.

When I launched Atlas Taxi, Good Taxi, I decided my company would always stand by vulnerable families. 

We provide food and help organize celebrations for children from low-income families on New Year’s Eve and on Children’s Day on 1 June. We’ve also helped families prepare their children for school by providing uniforms, stationery supplies and backpacks. 

Once a month, residents can contact our call centre and ask us to collect clothes they want to donate. My drivers collect these clothes free of charge and bring them to our office. Over two years we have built up a fairly extensive list of low-income families who come here to select clothes for themselves or their children.

This is from a New Year’s charitable event we organised for children living with a disability. All my adult life I have participated in projects that help children from vulnerable families.

2020 was difficult for everyone because of the COVID-19 pandemic. We lost 90 per cent of our orders. Our workers had to take unpaid leave. No words can express how difficult it was. At one time I thought everything would collapse and I would be out of business.

Then we launched a delivery service to bring medicines, clothes and food to patients. The delivery service saved us to some extent. We also partnered with other taxi companies, so together we were able to survive.

2020 was difficult for everyone because of the COVID-19 pandemic. We lost 90 per cent of our orders.  We launched a delivery service and partnered with other taxi companies to survive.

Ten years ago, I could not have imagined the situation I am in now: having my own business, being a female boss or 'raisa' as they say here in Tajikistan. But I said to myself: do not fear your own ideas, and you will realize them. 

I know many girls who can move mountains, but stereotypes and fear of what people and society will say, will sometimes stand in their way. But every girl, every woman should believe in herself. 

Women’s labour force participation in Tajikistan is comparatively low.  

According to the World Bank, about 69 percent of working-age women are not working for pay.

And 49 per cent of Tajikistan’s young women aged 15-24 are not in education, employment or training.

Takhmina Bakhronova received entrepreneurship training based on the ILO’s Start and Improve Your Business (SIYB) methodology.  

SIYB is one of the largest business management training programmes in the world. It helps small-scale entrepreneurs to start and grow their businesses so that women and men have access to more and better employment.

Start and Improve Your Business Programme

ILO Small and medium enterprises topic portal 

Entrepreneur, Takhmina Bakhronova, is the first woman to break into the male-dominated taxi business in Tajikistan’s capital, Dushanbe.

When a woman becomes boss in a man's world

My name is Bi Qiting and my nickname is ‘Small Wolf’. I lost my eyesight when I was 14. I am training to become a swimming instructor because I want to help other people with disabilities to  get out of the home, exercise and enjoy life more.

My nickname comes from a children’s book entitled “The Dream of Being a Wolf King”, about a female wolf raising her cubs with the hope they would become wolf kings.  The book inspired me so much that I wanted my name to refer to it!   

I grew up an ordinary child although I couldn’t see with my right eye since birth. However, my vision started to deteriorate in 2014 and a year later, I completely lost my eyesight. I had to stop studying and never graduated. 

I had nothing to do and felt desperately frustrated. I kept asking myself what I would do with my life. Even worse was that it seemed that no one paid attention to my feelings or opinions. I was expected to follow the family’s arrangements and not make any decision for myself, even on the colour of my clothes. My parents didn’t have any hope for me.

VIDEO WITH AUDIO DESCRIPTION FOR PERSONS WITH A VISUAL IMPAIRMENT

With audio description: I will not let blindness define me

VIDEO WITH SUB-TITLES AND AUDIO TAGS FOR PERSONS WITH A HEARING IMPAIRMENT

With sub-titles and audio tags: I will not let blindness define me

Light was brought back into my life in 2016 when I became a professional swimmer, with the support of the local federation of persons with disabilities.

In 2017, I took part in the Guangzhou Swimming Championships and won a gold medal for the first time. Then in August 2018, I won three golds and a silver at the Guangdong Provincial Games. This inspired me and amazed others. My parents began to recognize my ability and my potential.

However, in 2018 I was injured during a training session. My world collapsed and I was stuck at home again.  

My message to young people with disabilities is that the outside world is not as scary as you may imagine. When you step outside, you will discover many new things. 

Luckily, in February 2020, I joined a vocational training programme run by the China Chapter of the ILO Global Business and Disability Network.  It was called “Path to success”. The training taught things like creating a resume and interview skills. I learned a lot. 

After joining the group, I discovered that all of its members were people with disabilities. We gradually got to know each other and began to chat and exchange ideas. I found that I was not alone.

The strong sense of belonging gave me courage and strength. I was determined to return to society and make a living.  

I decided to become a swimming instructor focusing on persons with disabilities who have very few opportunities to exercise, despite the clear benefits sport can bring to their lives. I want to help them get out of the home and enjoy their lives more. 

I have also passed a diving exam and received a certificate. I am practising coaching and saving people underwater. 

There is a widespread belief that there is no way for you to become a swimming instructor if you are blind. 'What if your swimming student is in danger?' people ask.

Although we cannot see, we compensate by using our ears more. We tie a bell on the trainee so that we can ‘hear the danger’ and find her or him quickly if they are choking or sinking. We also teach by giving more detailed and clearer descriptions. 

Before a student fully learns how to swim, I keep in constant physical contact with her. The best thing is that I understand her, because I have the same visual impairment and I know which movement she cannot understand well such as how to kick her legs. I will tell her how to straighten her legs like a ballet dancer rather than a bicycle rider, or I will let her feel my feet to show her how to stretch and kick.

Small Wolf works on a computer with the help of a screen reader.

You should understand that each of us is a person. You should see us first as a person instead of someone who has a disability.  Disability is just one of our many characteristics. Then, focus on what we are able to do.

For the young disabled person my message is the outside world is not as scary as you have imagined, it's far less intimidating. When you step outside, you will discover many new things. After going out, you will start to make friends, take part in activities, try fresh experiences, get more insights, and establish your own social network. These will be valuable assets for your employment and much else. 

You should see us first as a person instead of someone who has a disability.  Disability is just one of our many characteristics. Then, focus on what we are able to do.

My next plan is to obtain a free diver certificate because I want to dive in the sea. Many people think diving in the sea is meaningless because I cannot see anything. After hearing this, I feel sad. Why do you think it is pointless for me to dive in the sea? Can't I experience something new and different?

For now I practice diving in a pool, but one day I hope to dive in the sea.

As of 2010, there were over 85 million persons with disabilities in China, representing over 6.4 per cent of the population.

The ILO Global Business and Disability Network (GBDN) is the world’s only grouping of more than 30 leading multinational companies working with the ILO as well as National Business and Disability Networks and Organizations of Persons with Disabilities to the benefit of business, persons with disabilities and economies and communities worldwide.

ILO GBDN-China is a national-level, company-driven network that supports businesses to succeed in and benefit from disability inclusion through collaboration.

“Path to success” is an initiative of Standard Chartered Global Business Services, a founding member of ILO GBDN-China. The programme aims to create an inclusive and favourable working environment for young persons with disabilities while strengthening their skills and capabilities. From 2019 to 2020, the initiative helped 6,000 people with visual impairments to prepare for the labour market.

ILO Global Business and Disability Network

Bi Qiting, known as ‘Small Wolf’, lost her sight aged 14. Overcoming many obstacles, she is now training to become a swimming instructor in Guangzhou, in the south of China.

I will not let blindness define me

My name is Wu Mengnan and I am 48 years old.  My life has changed dramatically because of HIV.

Years ago, my husband was in poor health.  We went from hospital to hospital and finally he was diagnosed with AIDS.  After that, my HIV infection was also confirmed.  I was 33 years old at the time and my son was five.  Somehow news of our HIV diagnosis got out. Even the neighbours in the community knew about our situation. People who we usually got along well with suddenly changed their attitude towards us. They said many bad things about us. They said we were hurting people, and asked us to leave. 

An old snapshot of me with my husband and son.

With a sick husband and a young boy, I felt helpless. I had done nothing wrong. You can't acquire HIV through daily casual contact. How could the neighbours treat us like this? And where could we move to? Eventually we couldn't take the pressure and left the neighbourhood where we had lived for many years.

I am living with HIV and I have a right to work

By the time my husband tested positive, he had already missed the best opportunities for treatment. His health condition was so bad that he was put on life support in a hospice and died within a few years. Since then, my son and I have had to depend on each other. We have tasted the bitterness of life.

I had to work, make money, and support my son in school.  I worked part-time every day and took my antiretroviral medication on time. My physical strength seemed to be no worse than before I contracted HIV. The only difference was that I could not let anyone know that I was living with HIV. If they found out, I would immediately face the risk of losing my job. So I worked and changed jobs a lot.

One company was very nice to me. I felt that I could not “cheat” or “hide” from people, so I told them the truth. They were very upset and scared, and asked me to leave right away.

 I remember one company was very nice to me. I felt that I could not “cheat” or “hide” from people, so I told them the truth.  After learning of my situation, they were very upset and scared and asked me to leave right away.

HIV infection is like a time bomb in my life. I can't tell anyone the truth. I have to be on guard all the time against being found out.  I have to be careful not to say anything.  It means I can't apply for a job that requires a medical examination or health certificate. Other people living with HIV are in the same situation. Many employers require medical check-ups before recruitment, and there is almost no way to find a good long-term and stable job after an HIV diagnosis. 

It's difficult for me to find work.  I find temporary and low paid odd jobs in privately-owned shops. 

People can't catch contract HIV through everyday contact, but they are afraid of the virus so no one wants to hire people living with HIV. Even if someone is lucky enough to get a job offer, they will still face unemployment once the employer asks for a physical examination, which is an annual requirement in some service industries. We have to turn to private owners' shops to do odd jobs that require no skills. They are temporary jobs with long working hours, little pay, and no labour contracts, training or social security. I've been working part-time non-stop for 15 years, ever since I acquired HIV.

I'm healthy and able to work. I want to be treated equally and live like a normal person.

My son is now in college, and the tuition fee costs 14,500 yuan per year. Although I work very hard, my monthly income is not stable, especially recently because of the COVID-19 pandemic. I earn on average only 2,000 yuan per month, and  am living under great pressure, even with subsistence allowances. I dread to think of what will happen in a few years time if and when my body cannot hold it together. To save money I haven't paid into social security, so after retirement there will be no pension, only subsistence allowances. It would be nice to get a better job, earn three or five thousand yuan a month and save some money while I can still work. That way, life would be much less stressful.

More than one million people are living with HIV in China. 

The Women's Network Against AIDS China, is one of the largest organizations supporting HIV-positive people in the country. It provides various kinds of support, especially for women. Mengnan is a key member of the women’s network.

With technical support from the ILO HIV Programme, the Women's Network Against AIDS China has worked to promote equal employment opportunities and skills training for people living with HIV.

According to an ILO-Gallup report on HIV stigma at work, nearly four in ten people globally say people with HIV should not be allowed to work.

The report says HIV prevention needs to be prioritised, along with comprehensive education programmes to counter the myths and misconceptions about modes of transmission, in order to reduce the high levels of stigma and discrimination at work.

ILO project: Eliminating poverty and HIV-related employment discrimination

The ILO Global HIV Discrimination in the World of Work Survey

Recommendation concerning HIV and AIDS and the World of Work, 2010 (No. 200)

Fifteen years ago Wu Mengnan and her husband tested positive for HIV. Now a widow, raising her child alone, she has gone from job to job, due to persistent stigma and discrimination around AIDS.

My name is Bryan Parras. I grew up in Houston, Texas, known as the energy capital of the world, about two and a half miles from where the Houston Ship Channel begins. It stretches for 25 to 40 miles and all along, it is one oil refinery and chemical plant after another. When we’d drive into the city, I would see this donut, this brown donut of pollution in the air.

Fossil fuels have always been part of our lives. My family is from West Texas, the Petro patch as they call it, right in the middle of the Permian Basin, the largest oil-producing region in the United States. There was a small refinery in my father’s town, and where my mom grew up there were pumpjacks for extracting oil, right on the grounds of her school.

Refinery & Texan flag - Raffinerie & drapeau texan - Refinería y bandera tejana

Growing up in the 1980s, there wasn't a whole lot of work being done around the negative impacts of the oil and gas industry on public health. I grew up with asthma and I didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t diagnosed until I was an adult. I had attacks where I really had difficulty breathing. I just thought I was out of shape and that this is what happens when you overexert yourself. I had to learn on my own how to address that, because I didn't have any kind of medication to help. I also had headaches and felt tired all the time. We went to a doctor in high school but they never diagnosed me with asthma.

It wasn’t until I moved to Austin, Texas, to go to college – which is a really beautiful, cleaner place – that my so-called “allergies” cleared up. I didn’t want to go home to Houston during the holidays because it made me so sick. By then there was a recognition that Houston was a dirty city and had bad air. And climate change was starting to surface in conversations and in mainstream magazines.

It made me upset to see kids growing up in a similar situation to me and being told they had allergies when in fact they were being poisoned by pollution.

After college I was teaching kids, and it made me really upset to see them growing up in a similar situation and being told that they had allergies when in fact they were being poisoned by pollution. 

It really got me thinking about these issues. My dad at this point had already been doing environmental justice work and had taken a job at Texas Southern University at the environmental justice legal clinic.

That's really when I started to dive deeper into environmental justice work. I realized that it was a role that I could play too. I had actually grown up in these neighborhoods where the refineries and the chemical plants and the rail yards are. So, I could speak about these issues from first-hand experience.

I was involved in a campaign to stop the KXL Pipeline from making its way to Houston Refineries with highly polluting tar sands oil. On the banner behind me it's written: "We demand to know what you are forcing us to breathe!".

At first, I did environmental justice work as a volunteer. But now I work full-time at an environmental organization called the Sierra Club. I was working on the Dirty Fuels campaign and in 2020 I moved to the Healthy Communities campaign. 

I try to make sure that the most vulnerable have an opportunity to voice their concerns. I'm also a big believer in bottom-up organizing and that the people who are most impacted have the most to offer. They can come up with solutions because they live it.

In the last 10 years there's been recognition that if we're to curb the worst of our impact on the climate, we have to stop any further fossil fuel exploration and development, and we have to begin to transition to a greener economy. So that’s at the core of the dirty fuels campaign. 

On the ground what it means is stopping expansions, stopping pipelines, shutting down old facilities and transitioning out of the fossil fuels industry. 

Part of that is recognizing that workers in this industry should not be left to fend for themselves, they should be supported, either with training or in other ways, to ensure that they can continue to make a living.

Certainly, if we shift in a big way, there's going to be plenty of work and actually more reliable work, cleaner work, safer work. We have to move in this direction, or we will no longer be an energy leader.

If we're to curb the worst of our impact on the climate, we have to begin to transition to a greener economy.

Houston has to clean up its mess first. And I think that's where a lot of the jobs will be. We have brownfield Superfund sites – these are places identified by the United States Environmental Protection Agency that are contaminated with hazardous materials and will require a long-term clean up. There are also abandoned oil wells and abandoned pipelines to clean up and dispose of properly. 

In my ideal world, that would be a priority. If that doesn't happen, even if we switched to clean energy, we will still have this legacy of pollution that will linger on for decades, hundreds of years, some of it for even longer. And people will not fully appreciate the transition because they will see that we're still getting sick. We’ll still have high cancer rates. We’ll still have people dying. We’ll still have high rates of childhood leukemia.

Documenting the impacts from Hurricane Harvey in 2017.

We need to change the way we think and be much more conscious of the fact that we have one livable planet, and it is a delicate system. We can't just take, take, take what we want. We have to give back. There's a relationship  that requires some level of reciprocity. I’ve found that these are concepts that are rooted in indigenous ways of thinking that we lost at some point in our own histories. It has to come back, as a way of approaching everything we do.

Leaders have gathered this week at COP26. My message to them is be courageous. And whatever they agree to has to be legally binding. That’s the problem, it’s not binding. A transfer of power, a change of leadership in a country, should not mean a change of agreements. If you look at the business community, a contract still matters even if there’s a new CEO in charge.

We're smart people. We can figure this out, and we're adaptive enough to survive making the changes we need to make. It’s in all of our interests. We all share the climate and environment. We can’t isolate that with a fence or by drawing a line on a map. I think the COVID-19 pandemic has proved to us that we can respond to a crisis on a grand scale. It’s given us an opportunity to realize that we can do this – we can transition away from fossil fuels. We really can.

I recently participated in an award-winning documentary “The Condor & The Eagle” to raise awareness about the impacts of climate change. I travelled to the Peruvian rainforest by the Tigre River where I met other environmental justice campaigners, including local indigenous people.

ILO studies show that implementing the Paris Agreement on Climate Change could create a net gain of 18 million jobs by 2030.

In Texas, the transition from fossil fuels to clean energy could create more than 1.1 million jobs, according to the Texas Climate Jobs Project

The 2030 Agenda and its 17 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) place the transition to low carbon sustainable development at the centre of the international agenda. 

The ILO played a key role in drafting the Just Transition Declaration, which was agreed at the UN Climate Change Conference in Scotland (COP26). It recognizes the need to ensure that no one is left behind in the transition to net zero economies – particularly those working in sectors, cities and regions reliant on carbon-intensive industries and production.

ILO welcomes COP26 Just Transition Declaration

ILO Guidelines for a just transition towards environmentally sustainable economies and societies for all

It wasn’t until he was an adult that Bryan Parras made the connection between his asthma and the polluted air in Houston Texas, where he grew up. This realization has shaped his work today as an environmental justice advocate.

Poisoned by pollution, so I fight for climate justice

My name is Morshed Ali. I am from Syria. When the war started, I was only 14 years old. I was preparing for my high school exams. 

We had to go to Aleppo for these exams. The day we arrived, I was so tired. In the early hours of the morning, a bomb was found at the corner of our house but I heard nothing because I was fast asleep.

Even though it was very hard, I totally focused on books for 15 days. I also had the book, “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho with me. Whenever I wanted to run away from reality, I read it. 

A young Syrian refugee in Turkey builds a new life by developing skills

The exam system in Syria is like this: you don't sit for only one exam. Every subject has a different exam date, for instance math one day, biology the next day, and history another day. Exams continue for 18 days. They are all written, so you really need to concentrate.

The math exam was the one I was most worried about but also most fond of.  My desk was next to the window, which was broken and glass was scattered all over it.

I told the invigilator and he said, “I don't care, you can either sit the exam or leave”.

I said OK.  I took my T-shirt off and cleaned off the table, and then I started writing. I got a high mark for that exam so I know I have the knowledge.

Morshed is a big fan of books, they mean a lot to him. They helped him all the way from Syria to Turkey, acting as his best friends in both good and bad times. 

My family started to ask about where I would study. I decided to go to Turkey.

On August 18, 2014, at two in the afternoon sharp, my mother and I passed through the border gate into Turkey. It was a Monday. I will never forget it. She enrolled me in courses. We arranged a dormitory for me and she went back to Syria after 18 days. 

My family did not want to leave Syria. Leaving Syria behind or going to different cities is not possible for them, even though they have had difficult times. I think my father and mother are like two olive trees; they cannot survive if you uproot them. 

Morshed reads Turkish newspapers to learn the language. He speaks fluent Turkish and has developed a passion for Turkish literature. 

I was on my own and I settled into life in the Turkish city of Mersin. I was super excited. There were so many things that I wanted to learn but I didn’t speak Turkish. So, I worked really hard to learn the language – watching cartoons helped. 

I totally concentrated on the courses, like math, geometry and others for the university entrance exam. During those six months, even though I only took a few Turkish courses,  I learned to speak Turkish by practicing it with others and reading literature. 

Then I started taking the exams and I got great marks. Once the results were announced, I realised what I wanted. I mean, I turned towards the most loyal thing to me, the soil.  

When I was a kid, I used to build houses out of soil, stone and water. I was constantly  building one, then two, and even three storey-houses. 

My gut told me that I should study architecture so that’s what I enrolled in. 

My gut told me that I should study architecture so that’s what I enrolled in. I told my parents that I wanted to be an architect. They did not object to it much because they knew that I would do it. 

Actually, with the family, we realized that being physically together is not absolutely necessary. I love dreaming and I am quite good at it. Therefore, when I miss them I close my eyes, I just remember a past joyful event then I can live that moment again. It is sometimes nice but upsetting at the same time.

I got into Karadeniz Technical University.  Some students yelled “Syrian” at me. In fact, I am neither proud of where I am from nor I am not proud because I do not think that it is something to be proud of. It is a total coincidence that I was born there. I have spent most of my mature years in Turkey. I have a feeling of belonging here. I want to give something in return to this country.

Morshed Ali now feels at home in Istanbul.

After graduation, I had to move to a big city immediately. I moved to Ankara for the first time. I carefully prepared a portfolio. 

It took me almost a month - I prepared it by considering every detail of my architectural portfolio as well as my CV. During that period, I was trying to improve myself by attending different programmes.

The pandemic started in early 2020. Just when I started job applications, the job opportunities decreased. I had studied architecture and I wanted to turn an education I loved into a profession. 

Since I could not find a job in Ankara, I decided to take my chances in Istanbul. The very day I arrived in Istanbul, a close friend of mine sent me the link to an ILO Work-Based Learning Programme called İŞMEP. Thanks to this ILO programme, I started working as an architect at a consultancy company, Tuana Projects.

As a Syrian, it is very difficult to have a formal job and to access social security. However, thanks to the İŞMEP programme, I started working under formal conditions. We also received various trainings and it was very useful for me.

Now formally employed as an architect, Morshed is working hard to build his career and challenge any constraints put before him.

In my new job as an architect, I have worked on many projects abroad, especially in Middle Eastern countries - whether it is three-dimensional modelling visualization, planning or design. 

There were, for example, mosque and school design projects, village designs, as well as shelter projects. What I want to focus on most is shelter projects. Because the biggest need of people, is for their accommodation to be completely solid.

So I am very focused on function, I have focused more on function than design.

Morshed has learned the art of Turkish coffee fortune telling and has become quite good at it. During a break at work, he reads the coffee grounds in his colleague’s cup.

Of course, there were many moments when I was desperate during my job search, such as when COVID-19 happened. There are so many things in the world that can bring us down but, what really matters is to find positive things among all this chaos.

I always worked through my sadness by drawing something, distracting myself, or by reading books that inspire me. 

There are so many things in the world that can bring us down but what really matters is to find positive things among all this chaos.

Of all the Turkish writers, I love Sabahattin Ali the most. He might even be my No. 1. One of his books touched me very much. Its name is "The Devil Inside Us” (İçimizdeki Şeytan). 

The character of Ömer impressed me very deeply. There is a saying in the book that I'll never forget.  I say it every day, every time I am down: "There is no devil in us! We are weak inside, we have a lack of will".

So rather than despair I thought how can I do my best to find a job? 

I took part in programmes, improved my language and I tried to improve my English further as well, which is also a new language for me. I even started to learn French a little bit. I like to improve myself constantly. 

Good things eventually happen somehow when you believe in them.

Morshed Ali, 24 arrived in Turkey seven years ago after fleeing the war in Syria. He had to learn a new language and adapt to life in a foreign country. Yet he overcame the odds and graduated as an architect four years later.

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