Asia’s smallest country and located in the Indian Ocean, the Maldives—made up of twenty-six atolls and almost 1,200 coral islands—often appears in tourist brochures and websites as a tropical island paradise, surrounded by aquamarine waters ideal for snorkeling and fishing. Its culture is deeply tied to the ocean, and it is home to a people proud to be Malvidian. Not surprisingly, tourism has become the country’s leading industry, overtaking fishing and boosting the Maldives’ Gross National Income to upper-middle-income levels by the late 2010s.

Behind this idyllic façade, however, lies a murkier and unpleasant truth. Rapid urbanization has led to ugly consequences. Plastic pollution has befouled the island chain’s crystalline waters, threatening the marine ecosystem, the economy, and the health of its residents. The threat exists on both land and sea. This waste is either burned or tossed into the ocean, producing harmful smoke and microplastics that damage and contaminate all forms of life ashore and underwater.

As a young girl growing up in the Maldives, Shaahina Ali was fortunate to have witnessed a far more benign and cared-for place to call home. “My memories of our beaches are of the finest white sand, full of natural shells, with many natural treasures for us to play with,” she recalls. “As a kid, I remember a fight we had for a plastic bottle find—it was so rare. Garbage or even fabric, tins, and plastic bags were not there. Plastic bags were treasured and reused, as they were not something available even in the shops.”

Today those treasures have become an environmental nightmare for Ali’s beloved Maldives. The lack of proper waste management has led to tons of waste, particularly plastic, being disposed of haphazardly. As a diver, photojournalist, and diving instructor herself, Ali often came literally face to face with the tides of trash clouding up the once-pristine waters of her islands, leaving behind swaths of dead fish and dying corals.

In 2015, deciding to fight back, Ali linked up with the NGO, Parley for the Oceans, to frame a comprehensive program to save the country’s waters from pollution and to turn plastic waste into a useful source of livelihood for the people. Today, as executive director of Parley Maldives, she oversees the implementation of their signature strategy: Avoid, Intercept, and Redesign (AIR) plastics for a better environment.

Working with volunteers and with local businesses and organizations, Parley undertakes massive cleanups, educational programs, and recycling ventures that have not only caught much of the physical waste but just as crucially intervened where it matters—in the minds of Maldivians and tourists who now recognize and avoid the problems plastic poses. With Ali, Parley has introduced plastic interception and collection sites in island communities and over seventy schools, leading over 700 collaborative cleanups along affected coastlines.

Ali is aware that much more has to be done both in and out of the water to ensure a cleaner and safer future for her country. She has worked with the government to address climate change, which to her, is Nature’s way of talking to us. “We can’t afford to address just one problem. We’ve got to take care of everything because everything is connected to the sea.” She has chosen to see the unusual characteristics of her country as an opportunity for change rather than a hindrance: “We are the perfect country to educate and showcase climate change and resilience as our country is made up of only 1% land; the other 99% is covered by sea.”

Ali saw crises where others saw coastline—mounting waste, and plastic quietly invading paradise. Quiet and unassuming, she sparked a marine movement rooted in community, science, and resolve. With every campaign, cleanup, and policy shift, she proved that protecting nature is not just environmental, especially with rising seas globally—it is existential.

“I go there to clean up with hope—hope that my grandchildren will see whales in the ocean in their lifetime as I did growing up.” It is a vision that drives Ali’s optimism and her passion for the seas. Asia’s smallest country may yet be its biggest anti-pollution champion.

In electing Shaahina Ali to receive the 2025 Ramon Magsaysay Award, the board of trustees recognizes her unwavering commitment to protecting the marine ecosystem of the Maldives with passion, vision, and inclusivity, ensuring that her work will be carried on by another generation of Maldivians in search of effective local solutions to global problems.

Thank you so much for this prestigious Award.

Being recognized for the work we have dedicated most of our lives truly encourages us to continue with even more hope and positivity.

I am deeply grateful to be listed among 356 amazing Ramon Magsaysay Awardees who continue to do good and make a difference in a world that needs it more now than ever.

I have always loved the ocean. Diving for me, has always been my passion.  Meeting the incredible life that thrives beneath the surface of our oceans,  or just drifting weightless in the blue is simply magical.  I was happy and content just being there. But one dive changed everything for me.

In 1998, the Maldives lost over 90 percent of the first 5 meters of its  reefs to El Niño. Witnessing this for the first time as it happened did not worry me in the beginning—I was fascinated.  The reefs tops were like a winter wonderland. A few months after the event I saw a lot of algae and the reef had no color and the fish slowly disappeared.  This was climate change that we were then talking and hearing about.  It was happening and many of us did not even realize it—let alone see it.  I did not understand it. 

Then  I had the opportunity to volunteer with the Marine Research Centre as a diver on a reef monitoring trip to evaluate the status of our coral reefs. This experience—working closely with a team of marine biologists—became a turning point in my life.

A simple explanation from the science world in a way I understand, made me realize that corals, or rather the tiny polyps that build them, cannot survive even with a small change in ocean temperature. That lesson changed the way I saw the ocean forever. I began to understand how these tiny organisms that creates something so complex and beautiful was so fragile and vulnerable and could so easily become victims of climate change— it happened and was going to happen more frequently if we do not do something.  It was happening and was going to happen without many of us ever realizing the deep, symbiotic connection between the ocean and all life, including our own.   

How the impact on corals from raising ocean temperature and pollution and other factors could tumble the whole structure that builds the Maldives, that sustains  us and that provide our food in just a few days was a lot for a younger me. It was a moment.

It was that  moment that made me very determined to actually focus more in inspiring  a generation of young Maldivians who would rise to work together and do everything possible to protect our home and our oceans. We had a number of  dive professionals we trained in our dive school to volunteers with us in taking teachers, students and many communities to see what a reef is and how amazing and beautiful it is.  Many for the first time, and once you see that magical world, it becomes easier for them to understand its symbiotic connection and  fragility.

This Award reminds me that every small effort matters.  My hope is to inspire more people to connect more deeply with nature—not just through pictures or words, but through real exposure, emotions and conscious actions.  I hope that we can help us live in balance and give other life forms an equal chance to exist.

This recognition is not mine alone. It belongs to the communities that I work with.  My amazing team in Parley Maldives , who work tirelessly to protect our oceans;  to Parley Global team  who have always been there for us—for the Maldives; to all individuals who truly believe in the work we do; to all NGO’s and collaborators who supports us in many ways than one; and to my friends, who have joined and participated in my beliefs even if it was inconvenient.

I will not be who I am without my family who have always loved, supported and encouraged me to be me.  To my husband and partner who has given more than 34 years of his life in the Maldives, being my partner and  training many outstanding local diving professionals—thank you.

Finally, I want to express my heartfelt appreciation to the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation team, for their kindness and warm hospitality.  My companions and I feel so loved and spoilt.  Thank you for everything.

Thank you once again for this great honor, and for believing in the work we do.

I dedicate this Award to all Maldivians who are, right now, feeling hopeless about what is happening in our ocean space. We need to stay unwavering in our belief and our purpose, picking our battles and moving  forward with more conviction than ever.  Ocean is our life—for the oceans.

Poverty and the suffering that comes with it are difficult enough. But for billions of people around the world—and certainly millions in the Philippines—being poor has not only meant material privations, but also the loss of pride and dignity, access to justice, social services, and too often, the loss of hope and a sense of being human.

For one Manila-based, religious-missionary priest of the Societas Verbi Divini (SVD), helping the poor involves much more than providing food, clothing, and shelter. It means recognizing their human dignity—even through such simple means as giving them a bath, a surprisingly restorative and quintessentially Christian gesture. That respect extends to the departed whose families are too poor to give them a proper burial.

Flaviano Antonio L. Villanueva or simply “Father Flavie” belongs to that breed of socially committed clergy for whom godliness is to be found not in the halls of influence and wealth but in the streets, among the poorest and the most forgotten. Nursing the physically and spiritually afflicted back into the mainstream of society has become his life’s work.

In 2015, he founded the Arnold Janssen Kalinga Center in Manila to provide “dignified care and service” to indigent and powerless citizens, serving thousands of marginalized Filipinos. These beneficiaries are people of all ages and backgrounds, including those who may have engaged in drugs and petty crimes. He believes they deserve a second chance at leading decent lives, regardless of their past. Kalinga works to recreate the poor’s self-image, reclaim their self-respect, and restore their self-worth.

In a remarkable twist of fate, their redemption and renewal are Villanueva’s own, for he himself was once a self-confessed drug user since age 14 until he turned around in 1995, volunteering as a lay missionary in Bicol. In 1998 he entered the seminary and was ordained a priest in 2006. Today, Villanueva draws on that incredible transformation to prove that even the most wayward and destitute can find redemption and renewal.

Villanueva also led the effort to locate the bodies of victims of the government’s “war on drugs” where thousands of Filipinos were summarily executed. Adding more pain to this injustice was the inability of the dead’s impoverished families to secure permanent graves for them. Addressing their plight, Villanueva mobilized resources to provide funds for the exhumation of the bodies for their cremation and inurnment, and relocation to a proper resting place. Dambana ng Paghilom (Shrine of Healing) is the first memorial columbarium in the country for victims of the drug war, where both the living and wounded souls can find respite and healing. Villanueva’s Paghilom program has not only brought comfort to widows and orphans, but has also allowed them to continue leading productive lives. “I felt a strong affinity with the widows,” Villanueva says. “They had lost their family’s breadwinner, and were desperate. The Center’s Paghilom program welcomed them, providing dignified, holistic care encompassing emotional and spiritual restoration.”

Expectedly, Villanueva’s prophetic and activist ministry attracted critical attention from authorities, and in 2020, he and ten other citizens, including another Catholic priest, were accused of sedition—a charge that was dropped in 2023, although the death threats never stopped. These experiences left Villanueva even more resolved to seek justice for the poor. Here again, he emphasizes that justice extends beyond the legal realm. “Justice can take many forms—among them, the recovery of one’s self-confidence, and forgiving oneself.”

Beyond preaching, Villanueva employed his management skills to undertake a needs analysis of his constituency—and he realized that the poor needed not just food but dignity. Following the late Pope Francis’ example, he initiated showers for the homeless as both a literal and symbolic act of cleansing, to prepare them for a fresh start in life. He had them pledge that “As I have been cared for, so shall I care for others with joy,” expanding the circle of Christian charity even further.

When lives were reduced to statistics, he stepped up, with his heart on his sleeve, offering not merely shelter and food to the marginalized but a sense of worth, and human connection long denied. With deep compassion and quiet defiance, he created spaces to rebuild what were unjustly erased by healing the broken, leading home the abandoned, and rekindling hope when it seemed all but lost.

In electing Fr. Flaviano Antonio L. Villanueva to receive the 2025 Ramon Magsaysay Award, the board of trustees recognizes his lifelong mission to uphold the dignity of the poor and the oppressed, daily proving with unwavering faith that by serving the least of their brethren, all are restored.

Good evening.

To the Board of Trustees of the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation, to my fellow awardees, to my SVD family, and to everyone who believes that faith and justice can walk hand in hand—maraming salamat po.

When I first learned of this award, I simply grew quiet—and I realized, this honor was never about me, but about the many lives and hands that gave it meaning: the homeless man and woman who asked not for food but for dignity, the mother who searched for her son taken by violence, and the volunteers who show up each day with open hearts.

This honor belongs to them.

And so tonight, I receive this Award not as a prize, but as a voice for those who are often silenced.

For the countless voiceless victims of the war on drugs—at least eighty of whom are here with us today.

For the thousands of homeless still wandering the streets, seeking not only a meal, but a little mercy—those whose karitons have been kicked aside by power, and crushed under indifference.

And I receive it, too, for the countless defenders of human and environmental rights, who keep speaking the truth, even when truth demands everything of them.

Because when injustice persists, silence wounds the soul.

To stop the bleeding we need to start the healing.

To start the healing, we should continue asking the difficult questions:

• How many were truly killed?
• How come the perpetrators and killers are still at large?
• Who are the real people responsible of having blood in their hands?

I STRONGLY propose and support the creation of an EJK TRUTH COMMISSION.

Ano na ba ang ating sigaw?

Sobra na. Tama na. Ikulong na!

But behind these cries is not anger alone—it is love, wounded yet still alive. Behind this work is a story—one I proudly tell.

There was a time when I, too, was lost—a young man once touched by darkness, until mercy found me.

That encounter with mercy changed everything.

It restored in me the will to live, the courage to love again. From my own brokenness, I learned that healing is never one-sided—for in redeeming others, I, too, am redeemed.

Out of that grace was born a calling—and from that calling, the Arnold Janssen Kalinga Center—where maligo becomes a sacrament, a meal becomes communion, and every act of care becomes a prayer.

In each bath becomes a sacrament, each shared meal becomes a communion, we reclaim not just the body, but the dignity that poverty tries to steal.

Ang Kalinga—hindi lang ito pangalan ng proyekto.

It stands for Kain, Aral, Ligo, ng Ayos— Eat, Learn, Bathe, to Live Anew.

Simple words that remind us: the Gospel is not only preached from pulpits, but lived out in basins of water, shared rice, and listening hearts.

It is here where the poor re-create their self-image, reclaim their self-respect, and restore their self-worth.

Through the years, I have walked with the forgotten—the homeless, the addicted, the families left behind by the drug war. I have seen mothers carry grief heavier than any cross, and yet whisper, “Salamat pa rin, Panginoon.”

I have witnessed how forgiveness can bloom where fear once ruled, and how God hides in those the world refuses to see.

Through Paghilom, we have seen how healing begins where justice once failed—among widows, orphans, and those told they no longer matter. When mercy embraces their sorrow, it becomes the justice that restores what violence has taken.

There were times when truth became dangerous, when mercy was mistaken for rebellion, and compassion was branded as defiance. But each time, I remembered what I tell our volunteers: “Hindi tayo tinawag para maging ligtas; tinawag tayo para maging tapat.”

We are not called to be safe—we are called to be faithful.

And when you walk with the wounded, you let their pain touch your own. But in those wounds, we meet Christ again—not in statues, but in the living, the broken, the brave.

And so I have learned that greatness of spirit is not about power or prestige, but about choosing—again and again—faith over despair, compassion over indifference, truth over fear, and always, Christ above all else.

Because hope is what the poor have taught me. They have shown me that dignity can rise even from the streets, that kindness is stronger than cruelty, and that love—when lived—is the only revolution that lasts.

A special message to the young who are listening: You may not all wear collars or habits, but each of you carries a calling.

Look around you—someone’s hunger, someone’s grief, someone’s silence—that is your altar.

You do not need permission to be kind; only the courage to begin.

Hindi tayo tinawag upang mamuno, kundi upang makibahagi.

We are not called to rule, but to accompany.

I dedicate this Award to those whose names may never appear on plaques or in the news—the families of the slain, the poor who still dream, the volunteers who choose compassion over comfort, and my fellow missionaries who believe that the Church must carry the scent of its people.

And to those who still doubt that goodness can win—look again. Every act of care, every moment of courage, is proof that light still breaks through.

Dilexi Te —“I have loved you.”

These are not just words from Scripture; they are the heartbeat of our vocation.

It is love that moves the hands that wash tired feet, love that opens the arms that keep embracing the rejected, and love that strengthens the hearts that keep believing that mercy will always be stronger than fear.

The Ramon Magsaysay Award is not an ending, but a sending—not a medal to display, but a mission to renew.

A call to keep washing the tired feet of our nation, to keep rekindling hope where it was buried, so that by serving the least of our brethren—we may all be restored.

Muli, Maraming  maraming salamat po.

Maglakad po tayo sa liwanag—magkasama!

India is one of the world’s largest and most powerful countries, in terms of its population, economy, and political importance. Since its independence in the past century, it has achieved massive strides in its technological and economic growth. It is now the world’s fourth-largest economy on the strength of its exports, services sector, and domestic consumption.

India’s story shows both challenges and hope. The visible signs of India’s new affluence belie many profound inequalities in its society—notably in incomes and educational opportunities. Despite the overall surge in growth, equality remains out of reach for many rural and tribal girls, who have been the most neglected for lack of adequate education. In Rajasthan, India’s largest state, girls have the highest illiteracy rate.

This disparity has had a deep detrimental impact on Indian society, where illiterate girls are forced to marry early, have children, and work—while culturally privileged males go to school. Given their limited horizons, only a lifetime of penury and servitude awaits most of these women.

In 2005, a young graduate of the London School of Economics then working in San Francisco, United States of America, decided to return home to India to take on this challenge. After two years of studying the problem, Safeena Husain established the Foundation to Educate Girls Globally (FEGG) or “Educate Girls,” a non-profit organization dedicated to mobilizing community and government resources for girls’ education in rural and educationally disadvantaged areas of India.

Starting out in Rajasthan, Educate Girls identified the neediest communities in terms of girls’ education, brought unschooled or out-of-school girls into the classroom, and worked to keep them there until they were able to acquire credentials for higher education and gainful employment. 2015 was a year of innovative collaborations. It launched the world’s first Development Impact Bond (DIB) in education, aimed at tying financial aid to achieved outcomes.

The results were dramatic. What began with fifty pilot village schools reached over 30,000 villages across India’s most underserved regions, involving over two million girls, with a retention rate of over 90%. Organized into Team Balika (Team for the Girl Child), local volunteers went door-to-door to identify out-of-school girls, address parents’ concerns, and help with documentation. At the end of the DIB project in 2018, Educate Girls had surpassed its total learning targets by 160% and its total enrollment target by 116%.

Beyond enrolling young girls, Educate Girls also launched Pragati, an open-schooling program that allows young women aged 15-29 to complete their education and avail themselves of lifelong opportunities. Its initial cohort of 300 learners has grown to over 31,500 learners.

Through its programs, it waged war on two fronts: the societal and systemic. Societal barriers kept girls at home, performing domestic chores as sisters, wives, and mothers. Systemic barriers limited the funds and resources required to improve girls’ access to education. Hovering above these was the patriarchal mindset—that needed to be challenged and proven wrong.

“Girls’ education is the closest thing we have to a silver bullet to solve some of the world’s most difficult problems,” says Husain. “It is one of the best investments a country can make, impacting nine of the seventeen Sustainable Development Goals, including health, nutrition, and employment.

“Educate Girls remains committed to breaking the cycle of illiteracy and poverty for girls. By scaling our programs, deepening government partnerships, and embedding community-led solutions, we strive to create a brighter, more equitable future—one girl at a time,” she adds.

Educate Girls entered communities where girls and women were expected to stay in the shadows—and made them visible. By working within the system, they were able to change it, transforming schools into spaces of possibility. They challenged tradition, shifted mindsets, and showed that education is not a privilege, but a right that reshapes and rebuilds lives. It is enabling the women of India to take their rightful place in their own country, and the world.

In electing the Foundation to Educate Girls Globally to receive the 2025 Ramon Magsaysay Award, the board of trustees recognizes its commitment to addressing cultural stereotyping through the education of girls and young women, liberating them from the bondage of illiteracy and infusing them with skills, courage, and agency to achieve their full human potential.

(Delivered by Safeena Husain, founder of the Foundation to Educate Girls Globally)

I started Educate Girls in my home with a computer screen in front of me and my infant daughter on my lap. Eighteen years later, to be the first Indian organization to receive the Ramon Magsaysay Award is historic, humbling and completely unbelievable. 

While I planted the seed for this organization, it has been nurtured over the last decades by many, many hands.

This win is dedicated to the hard work of the Educate Girls’ current and past team members, and especially our field coordinators, who go door to door to find every single girl who is not going to school. They do it when it rains or even when the temperature hits 45 degrees centigrade. They climb mountains and cross rivers just to make sure every single home is visited and no girl is left behind. It is because of their hard work that this mission has expanded from just a few villages when we began to more than 30,000 today.

This win is dedicated to the 55,000 youth, our Team Balika volunteers, who have worked with us since inception to bring over 2 million girls back to school. They inspire us daily with their motto, “Mera Gaon, Meri Samasya, aur Main hi Samadhan,” which means “My village, my problem, and I am the solution.”

This win is dedicated to over 3,000 Preraks, our mentors, who work with adolescent girls and young women who cannot go back to formal school. They help them learn in village-based learning camps, sometimes set up in their own homes to ensure that girls can complete their secondary education. They go above and beyond the call of duty to support girls, sometimes babysitting their children, or even grazing their goats so that girls don’t miss their exams. Their hard work has ensured that over 30,000 girls are getting a second chance at education and a second chance at a future.

This win is dedicated to parents, community members, teachers, headmasters and countless others who stand up for our girls and provide day-to-day support for our programs and for our team members.

This win is dedicated to our Board, our supporters, our partners in the government and civil society. Thank you for placing your trust and faith in us. Your support provides us with the much-needed fuel to propel this mission forward.

This win is for our girls who inspire us daily with their courage, grit and resilience. For girls who cook, clean, tend to cattle, look after siblings and then study late into the night to build a brighter future for themselves, their families and their country. This award sheds light on their struggles and the numerous challenges they face.

Over the years, we have met hundreds of out-of-school girls, called “Antimbala,” or “the last girl.” They were named Antimbala because everyone hoped that they would be the last girls to be born.

So, today, in honor of Antimbala, we at Educate Girls pledge to 10X10. We commit to reaching 10 million learners over the next 10 years, working to ensure that no girl is denied a quality education.

Because when a girl is educated, magic happens! Education opens up opportunities, opportunities give her choices, and choices give her a voice and agency to help her reach her full potential.

Also, we only have to do it once. Because when she is educated, she is twice as likely to educate her children and break the cycle of illiteracy and poverty forever.

Finally, I want to thank my husband and my children for making my mission their mission and for standing behind me all these years. I want to thank my father, who is watching from above, and my mother, who is here today. Nothing can happen without the blessings of our elders.

Our deepest gratitude to the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation for this incredible recognition. You have energized us and given us a tailwind to help carry our mission forward, in India and beyond.

I am Safeena Husain, and I Educate Girls

Thank you.