Brummies have adopted the sense that we live in a shit-hole, but in terms of green space, culture and community, it’s unrivalled. It’s a calm and happy place; my heart rate drops when I get off the train from London. I say, kind of with tongue in cheek, but not that far in my cheek, that it’s the best city in the world.

What I want to do this morning is share with you a couple of stories and talk about a different Africa. Already this morning there were some allusions to the Africa that you hear about all the time: the Africa of HIV/AIDS, the Africa of malaria, the Africa of poverty, the Africa of conflict, and the Africa of disasters. While it is true that those things are going on, there's an Africa that you don't hear about very much. And sometimes I'm puzzled, and I ask myself why. This is the Africa that is changing, that Chris alluded to. This is the Africa of opportunity. This is the Africa where people want to take charge of their own futures and their own destinies.

If I advocate cautious optimism it is not because I do not have faith in the future but because I do not want to encourage blind faith.

Under the stress of the event, we felt, the soldiers' true nature would reveal itself, and we would be able to tell who would be a good leader and who would not. But the trouble was that, in fact, we could not tell. Every month or so we had a "statistics day," during which we would get feedback from the officer-training school, indicating the accuracy of our ratings of candidates' potential. The story was always the same: our ability to predict performance at the school was negligible. But the next day, there would be another batch of candidates to be taken to the obstacle field, where we would face them with the wall and see their true natures revealed. I was so impressed by the complete lack of connection between the statistical information and the compelling experience of insight that I coined a term for it: "the illusion of validity."

Los diferentes trabajos en los que he estado, después de mi graduación, han sido de 100 y 120 horas a la semana, especialmente empezando con Nubank. Básicamente vivía en el lugar de trabajo. Empezamos la compañía en una casa de dos pisos. Mi cofundador vivía en el segundo piso. Yo básicamente dormía en el primer piso, o pasaba muchas noches en el primer piso. No salimos de esa casa por seis o 12 meses porque trabajábamos como locos.

Queremos crear un ambiente familiar en donde no todo sea fácil, en donde no todo les caiga del cielo, sino que puedan construir su propio camino y tengan ese sentido de desesperación y esa hambre. Eso significa también que todo ese dinero no se les va a dejar a ellos. Se les dará muchísimo amor, como les damos, y muchas oportunidades de educación y de desarrollo, pero todo ese dinero no es para ellos.

Vicky, qué pregunta más difícil (risas). Voy a hablarle de los casos que nos han inspirado, como Charles Feeney, cofundador de los Duty Free Shop en los aeropuertos. Él hizo eso en los años ochenta. Se volvió uno de los hombres más ricos del mundo cuando vendió su compañía e inmediatamente se dedicó a la filantropía y gastó todo su dinero en metas sociales.

I think a lot of that first wave of entrepreneurship was missing the product of localization, and they weren't really asking the question, "What are the big, impactful products or problems that we got to solve locally, and forget about the U.S. or forget about Europe?"

¿Es la tecnología, el machine learning y la inteligencia artificial? Sí, es verdad, pero al final la diferencia es que hacemos algo que mi mamá me decía cuando era chiquito: "Tratemos a los demás como nos gustaría que nos traten a nosotros".

The simplicity and yet profoundness of the above logic leads us to conclude that for us the most natural and truthful path is to invest this wealth until "our last check bounces", as one of our personal heroes, Chuck Feeney, likes to say.