Poetry of Finance

Imagine a space where ideas don’t just circulate—they ignite. Where young leaders engage directly with policymakers, and spoken word poetry distills economic injustice into powerful words that move people to act.

It may sound like fiction, but this was the Engine Room Financing the Future Pitstop that took place on February 20, 2025. This wasn’t an ordinary event. It was strategic, timed ahead of the Fourth International Conference on Financing for Development (FFD4), confronting one of the most pressing injustices of our time: the inequitable global financial system.

Bringing together over four hundred participants, this Pitstop aimed to influence key decision-makers and mobilize collective advocacy for a fairer financial future. The whole vibe throughout the pitstop was electric—think TED’s thought-provoking insights, Davos’ high-level influence, and Burning Man’s spirit of innovation, all fused into one intergenerational, interactive dialogue.

But it wasn’t just talk. The discussions were weighty—conversations about debt crises, underfunded education, and financial systems rigged against young nations. But numbers only go so far.

That’s when the poetry took center stage.

The Poet Behind the Words

Her name is Alhanislam, a Nigerian award-winning spoken word artist born in Borno State—a region shaped by both resilience and inequality. When invited to perform at the Pitstop, she did not hesitate.

“This issue is very important to me, and you don’t have to compensate me. I speak for those who live this every day—especially young women like me from young countries, whose stories are too often left out of global conversations. I want to bring those stories in – and help change the system that silences them”.

For Alhanislam, spoken word isn’t just poetry – it’s resistance. A way to stir hearts, confront injustice, and demand change. And when she performed, she wasn’t just speaking her truth – she was continuing a legacy.

Across history, poetry has been a tool of resistance – challenging economic injustice and exposing the systems that sustain it. From Harlem to Lagos, poets like Langston Hughes, Wole Soyinka, and generations of West African griots have used rhythm and verse to make inequality visible and hold power to account.

Today, artists like Alhanislam are carrying that legacy forward – transforming complex global issues—like debt, inequality, and exploitation – into urgent, emotional narratives that demand action.

When Poetry Became Protest

And at the Engine Room Pitstop, that’s exactly what she did. She confronted the false promise of youth as an advantage, exposing how being a "young country" often means being sentenced to inherited debt and economic struggle.

They call them young countries,

as if youth is a privilege and not a sentence.

In many of these nations, the majority of the population is under 30. Young countries aren’t just a figure of speech—they are a statistical and social reality.

Fifty to eighty percent of our people are under 30.

Fifty to eighty percent of tomorrow,

waiting for a future that was mortgaged yesterday.

That line reframed youth not as a promise or a privilege, but as a ticking clock—a generation standing in line for opportunities already stolen.

This line struck at the heart of the global economic illusion—that potential and ambition can compensate for systemic inequality. She dismantled the myth of resilience as a solution, arguing that strength alone cannot fix a system deliberately designed to hold young nations back:

As if being rich in spirit can pay the price of shackled economies.

As if resilience alone can build bridges when the river of inequality runs deep.

Her words challenged the audience to see beyond statistics, framing economic injustice as a lived reality, not an abstract policy issue or a topic for white papers and panel discussions. She made it clear—that this is not about fixing a broken system; it’s about recognizing that the system was built to benefit a few at the expense of many.

They tell us the system is broken. No. It was built this way.

She exposed how aid and debt relief, often framed as generosity, can serve to maintain control.

Designed in boardrooms where our names are statistics, where our futures are footnotes.

Wealthier nations extend one hand in aid while tightening the noose with the other.

This image cut through the political rhetoric of economic development, revealing how financial systems perpetuate dependency rather than empowerment. But Alhanislam’s poem was not just an indictment—it was a demand for a new system. Instead of pleading, she claimed agency, rejecting the idea that young nations must wait for salvation.

We are the continents of revolution. We are the architects of possibility.

We do not beg. We build.

Her words shifted the conversation from victimhood to power. She wasn’t just pointing out the problem – she was calling for solutions. A world where financing is not a leash, but a lifeline. A world where the young people and young countries do not inherit debt, but dignity.

And as the Engine Room event concluded, her voice left a difficult policy question for global leaders and young changemakers.

How do we reshape the system so it serves us all, not just a few?

That question wasn’t just rhetorical. It was a call to leaders in power and to all of us. Because if we’re serious about justice, we can’t just stop at listening.

We have to act.