From Displacement to Design

After winning the Young Climate Voice award following Cycle 02 of The World Around Young Climate Prize, Amara Nwuneli has emerged as one of the most galvanizing young voices for climate justice and community-led design. Her journey began in 2020, when her family was displaced by catastrophic flooding that affected more than 1.4 million people across Nigeria. Nwuneli began documenting the realities of climate change through her phone, transforming personal upheaval into a public call for collective action. And what began as storytelling quickly evolved into Preserve Our Roots, the organization she founded to advocate for environmental education, resilience, and access to nature. With friends, local artisans, and a network of young collaborators, Nwuneli went on to build a public park in an underserved Lagos community, offering a safe, green space where children and families could learn, gather, and simply breathe amid the pressures of urban life. Plans for more parks across the city are also now in the works.

On November 20, 2025, during a private screening at Soho House New York hosted by Deidrea Miller, Nwuneli joined The World Around executive director Beatrice Galilee to discuss how displacement shaped her climate awakening, why experiential access to nature is key to advocacy, and how mentorship through the Young Climate Prize helped her expand her work from one neighborhood park to multiple sites across Nigeria. Through film and conversation, Nwuneli shared a vision of climate action grounded not in abstraction but in joy, community, and the belief that every young person has the power to reshape their environment.

Beatrice Galilee: In the Young Climate Stories film, you mentioned a flood that happened in 2020 that began your climate journey as a young person. Can you tell us a little bit about the beginning of your Preserve Our Roots project?

Amara Nwuneli: I began my advocacy work in general when I was young because you see poverty all around you, and you live in it and experience all sorts of things. But climate advocacy became a big part of my life because you can’t fight for anything else if there’s no environment to live in.

I recognized this when we got displaced as a family. In 2020, we had major floods that displaced over 1.4 million people: not just us, but people all across Nigeria. Lagos had it even worse because our sewage systems don’t work well, so the roads were clogged. And Lagos is originally marshland, so water was coming up from the ground. Even if you rebuilt, you had to physically move because no land was usable in that area.

Even before that, you would see the effects of climate change but never identify it, like rising prices of food, because most crops get washed away. But experiencing it firsthand made me realize it’s not something you can ignore. It’s something you have to actively address or it will stop you from doing anything else. That was the experience that put me in this space.

BG: Joseph [Zeal-Henry, Nwuneli’s Mentor for the Young Climate Prize] said that you are talented at organizing. How did you literally start? Was it online? How did you mobilize people, and who were the kinds of people that responded to your call?

AN: Honestly, that was a big compliment from Mr. Joseph because sometimes when you are doing something, you don’t know the ramifications. You just do what you can.

Storytelling was the biggest part. I got a phone, and I recorded what happened. With social media nowadays, anything that happens to you, you record it, you put it in someone’s face, and you watch what happens. I used technology and social media and started posting weekly videos on Instagram.

From there, people saw the content and the persistence. It went from 10 likes to 30 to people actually wanting their stories told. They would reach out, saying: “This happened in my community. Can you talk about it?”

I also realized I couldn’t do everything on my own. I got my friends involved. We made short films together during quarantine and went out to show what was happening in communities. Sharing the vision made it louder. Once we recognized the need, and that people were hungry for someone to talk about these things, we set up a registered organization in 2020. I was 13 at that time.

We worked with the government, we set it up, and since then we have been working on the ground for the past five years. It’s been fun.

BG: Can you tell us about the beginning of the park that we saw in the video? How did you find that land, and how did you build that as a group of 15–16-year-olds?

AN: The idea came because I wanted a place to go, to learn, to be outside with my friends. But also because when we taught people about climate change, people didn’t care—you can’t fight for something you have never experienced. You can’t spend your whole life advocating for nature if you’ve never experienced the benefits of it. I didn’t need people to hug a tree; I just wanted them to see a tree and recognize how beautiful it is, to see how it improves your quality of life.

So we wanted to provide experiential education and also a space for people to simply be.

I shared that dream with random people all the time, asking, “What do you think about this idea?” But the process was hard because we were a young organization and land in Lagos is very contested. People don’t want to give up land because of its value.

We finally secured land with the local area government. They gave it to us, but then the person who approved it got ousted from power. We had already done the survey, begun the work on a much larger space, had rocks delivered, everything. Then we had to start afresh. It was frustrating.

We had a little bit of seed funding from an international organization because no one on the ground would support us unless the project was already done. So we decided instead of pursuing more public land, we’d go to a smaller community and build it there.

We went to my local community and partnered with a church foundation and a school that was being built. We supported their building project and built the park there. It became the only playground in that entire area: Ikota in Lagos.

We worked with local artisans. The actual building process took a fraction of the time compared to the first attempt. It was fun to start something and execute it quickly when people genuinely wanted to support us. 

“When you’ve had an idea and you start to execute it, you realize it’s not sustainable to keep doing it alone. You need people who have done this work and want to support it.”

BG: Tell us a little about the Young Climate Prize. Why did you apply, and how was your experience as part of the cohort?

AN: The Young Climate Prize was a great experience, especially because of the online-hybrid model. Everyone could join from anywhere. When your Wi-Fi wasn’t working, you could watch offline. We had group chats, shared resources, and so much community support.

I applied because when you have an idea and fight to execute it, you realize it’s not sustainable to keep doing it alone. You need people who have done this work and want to support it.

We have been able to scale to three new parks now, in larger areas, not through schools but external public spaces. We wouldn’t have been able to do that without mentorship from people in many countries. That’s what I sought out, and the program definitely helped.

BG: Can you share a bit about your conversations with Joseph? Joseph Zeal-Henry was your mentor. He works with the Mayor of London, he’s an urbanist and planner, and he works deeply with communities. How did those first conversations go, and what did you learn from him?

AN: He’s a really funny person. He’s young, and he understands the—well, not the burden of a dream—but the frustration of how long it takes to implement a project. He helped put things in perspective. I wanted things done in two weeks. I thought, “If something is good for the community, why do I need to convince someone to let me do it for free?” He helped me understand stakeholders, what they need, and where compromise might be necessary. He also helped me set up a formal board of directors, people who understood the frameworks of building something.

Even if you work with a private company, you still need government permission. And you can’t start an NGO if you’re under 18, so I needed a parent organization. He helped me understand why everything took so long. That helped us build a model we could expand to other local governments. Now we have partnered with different states across Nigeria.

And when I was angry, he would say, “You’re fine. Keep doing your thing.” 

BG: What do you think he learned from you?

AN: How am I supposed to answer that? (Laughs) I don’t know.

He learned about the differences between countries, the rules in place, and had to connect me with people on the ground in Nigeria. He learned how ideas easy to implement elsewhere are harder in Nigeria, even simple things like transferring money require intermediary banks. The process is slow when you are international.

BG: I think he was inspired. Seeing someone at 14 mobilizing in Lagos and getting real things done was eye-opening for him and for many mentors. It showed the importance of intergenerational conversations. Teenagers have meaningful insight, and they must be incorporated into how cities and societies plan for the future. Give yourself credit for that.

You are now at university in Chicago. What are some of your goals for the coming years?

AN: We are working on more public–private partnerships back home, setting them up and figuring out how to institutionalize greenery in our cities. From 2025 onward, West Africa is entering a period of fast-paced development and innovation, and we want to integrate sustainability into that growth.

Another goal is storytelling. I grew up in the performing arts, and I’m passionate about amplifying what’s happening on the ground. While I design projects and coordinate building at a large scale, I also know these things are already happening, like Mohamed’s recreational spaces built from scrap. I want to bring these people together and give them a platform, showing that sustainable design is something they can pursue.

I want to create the next Grand Central Park—but sustainable—and bring it to Lagos. If you’re ever around, let me know. I’ll give you a private tour.

BG: If there's one thing you want the audience to take away tonight, what would it be?

AN: I have had amazing conversations this evening. Everyone here has their own passions—film, ballet, sports, architecture, retirement, anything. There's always something you can do, and whatever you choose will have an impact, positive or negative, whether you like it or not.

You have the chance to live your life for good. It might feel like pressure, like you have to change your lifestyle, but every smile you give someone, every connection you make, every choice to volunteer or reach out, that changes someone’s life. People are struggling right now, friends back home, people everywhere who don’t have the opportunity to be in fancy places like Soho House. Just think about them sometimes. Not all the time; I don’t want you to be stressed, but recognize your potential to change the world.

BG: You are incredibly articulate and kind. Where did that come from? Talk to us about your family, your parents. 

AN: My mom works in advocacy, more in agriculture. She started a spice company when she was younger and now works in food security. I always followed her around selling spices.

I think we are a product of the people we meet. I’ve met amazing people and learned from them. If someone doesn’t like the way you talk or if you make a mistake, no one genuinely cares. If they do care, you can fix it next time. We are all just learning. My future self will be proud of who I am now, so why not be proud now?

Audience Member: Amara, do you have advice for high school or middle school students?

AN: I have seen a lot of kids chasing résumés and planning their lives 10 years in advance. Even though people keep asking me what I want to do, I would say: try everything. Don’t do things because they seem “best” or “successful.”

Everything changes. You don’t want to look back and think you missed out on childhood.

Don’t be afraid to try and learn. Don’t feel like you have to fit a perfect model of a person. That person will come organically. If you force it, you’ll become someone you don’t feel connected to.

It sounds very Pinterest and not real, but it’s a saying for a reason: just be yourself.

The World Around presents Young Climate Stories

A 4Hawk Production

Made possible by MillerKnoll

Young Climate Stories is a documentary series that follows the young people at the forefront of climate action. Each short film in the series centers a different participant from the second cycle of the Young Climate Prize, exploring how the next generation is working to build a livable, equitable, and sustainable future. Alongside their mentors, these young innovators bring into focus the urgency of the climate crisis and share how they are using their voices, ideas, and designs to reimagine what's possible for communities and the planet.