The Economy of Francesco

Throughout the Summer School, one word kept coming up: fraternity. Luigino Bruni helped us create a space where fraternity was not merely seen as a nice idea, but as something capable of changing the way we understand the economy. This included exploring the uncomfortable stories of Cain and Abel and of Joseph and his brothers—stories marked by envy, favoritism, and conflict. The World Fraternity Report, presented by Paolo Santori and Tracey Freiberg as part of a broader project, led us to explore different ways of understanding fraternity: not simply as a feeling, but as something that can be observed through reciprocity, care, and inclusion. Fraternity means choosing to recognize that another person’s life matters just as much as our own. Sister Helen Alford took us even deeper into the relationship between fraternity, human dignity, and economic life. I thus began to see fraternity not simply as being kind, but as the recognition that our lives are interconnected.

And the conversations about St. Francis reminded us that sometimes the most powerful form of innovation is the courage to live differently. During our stay in Mettingen, I also had the opportunity to lead a spiritual reflection in front of the Mirror of Peace. I invited everyone to fold a simple paper boat as a symbol of the different journeys that had brought us to the same Summer School. As we looked at our boats, we reflected on their fragility and on how we, too, are more fragile than we are sometimes willing to admit. “We need one another” became part of our reflection before we transformed the boats into T-shirts. The boat represented our journey; the T-shirt became the message we chose to carry with us from that journey. It was a simple activity, but it left me with a question that has stayed with me: if brotherhood were something we could wear, what would we want it to say?

This connection became particularly tangible when we discussed technology and artificial intelligence. Henning Müller’s reflection on AI applied to agriculture made me think of the farmers I know in Africa. We can talk about smarter machines, more efficient production, and the future of food, but at the beginning of that chain there is a person. What happens when that farmer doesn’t have internet access, doesn’t have technology, or doesn’t even have the same opportunities to reach the market? For me, innovation can’t just mean moving forward faster. It must also mean ensuring that those who are already struggling aren’t left even further behind.

We also explored cities, entrepreneurship, and how communities are built. During the presentation on the Lok-Viertel and in our conversations in Osnabrück, I kept thinking about something very simple: who gets to imagine the future? Young people will inherit the cities, economies, and communities that are being designed today. We’ll live there, work there, and raise our families there. Being young shouldn’t mean being invisible. Sometimes, the youngest person in the room notices something that everyone else has stopped seeing.

The Fraternity Challenge took all of this from theory and turned it into something we could work on in practice. My group delved into the theme “From Reciprocity to Sustainable Prosperity: Strengthening Fraternal Economic Relationships in Indigenous Communities” — “From Reciprocity to Sustainable Prosperity: Strengthening Fraternal Economic Relationships in Indigenous Communities.” We were called upon to reflect concretely on how relationships based on trust and reciprocity could be transformed into commitments capable of truly supporting Indigenous communities. We explored ideas related to credit, community relationships, and ways to help people build sustainable prosperity together. I realized then that fraternity is not just something to talk about. It is something we must choose to put into practice.

I also began to understand fraternity through the people who are all too often left out of the conversation: the worker with a disability who cannot access a workplace; the young person whose idea is dismissed because of their age; the farmer whose work is essential, but whose share of the final value is small. These are not separate problems. They remind us that an economy is made up of human lives. If anyone is systematically left on the margins, then it is the system itself that has something to learn.

Being in Germany also made me realize that I don’t have to choose between being African and being part of a global conversation. I can find myself in an international room and still ask questions that come from Mozambique. I can listen more than I speak and still be present. I can learn from people like Luigino, Sister Helen, Tracey, Paolo, Henning, and Felix, and at the same time, bring my own experience to the table. I didn’t need to have the loudest voice in the room. Sometimes, being the youngest meant having the privilege of observing closely and discovering that there’s more than one way to contribute.

I left the Summer School with something I hope I’ll never lose: the feeling that there’s a place at that table for my generation, too. Fraternity doesn’t mean we’re all the same, the same age, from the same country, or have the same experience. It means refusing to believe that we can build the future on our own. I was the youngest person in the room, but I was also part of that room. And perhaps this is the image I’ll remember most of all: not a girl standing on the sidelines, waiting for her turn, but a girl sitting at the table, listening, learning, and slowly realizing that one day the future being discussed around her will become the future she’ll be called upon to build.