Peace is not signed on the glossy paper of treaties. It is slowly woven into the flesh of people, where pain has left deep scars. It is born from the truth one finally dares to utter—even when it trembles, even when it disturbs. For there is no peace without memory.
The dead ask to be named, the living, to be heard. Forgiveness does not blossom on lies; it needs light, justice, and a breath of humanity.
Justice is not vengeance. It is the slow recognition that every life matters, that every tear deserves to be wiped, that every silenced voice must rise again.
It is the outstretched hand that does not deny wrongdoing, yet believes in man’s power to stand tall again . And then—only then—does peace become possible.
Not the peace of cemeteries, where all is silent, but the peace of awakened consciences, where the heart beats without fear, where the world learns to breathe together.
Truth is painful, yes, but it is truth that heals. It does not condemn—it frees. It makes peace no longer a fragile dream, but an inalienable human right, because it is built upon restored dignity.
BADIAGA SOULEYMANE SEIDY
