Peace Is: A Story from South Sudan: “Peace Is the Sound of My Daughter Singing”

By Kezia Lenyiwa | Juba, South Sudan

My Story: “Peace Is the Sound of My Daughter Singing”

Peace, to me, is the sound of my daughter singing in the morning, her voice rising above the hum of generators and the distant echoes of uncertainty. It is the moment I boil water for tea and know that, at least for today, we are safe. It is the quiet strength of my neighbors who greet each other with warmth, even when their hearts are heavy.

But peace is not our daily reality. In my community in South Sudan, we live with the scars of conflict some visible, many hidden. I remember the day my cousin fled her home with only a plastic bag of clothes and her little one week old baby on her back. I remember the silence in our compound after a nearby shooting, when even the birds seemed to hold their breath. That silence was not peace. It was fear.

My turning point came in 2016, when I volunteered at a shelter for displaced women in the refugee comp in Uganda. I listened to stories of loss, of resilience, of survival. One woman, Mary, told me, “They took everything from me but not my voice.” That moment changed me. I realized peace is not just the absence of war. It is the presence of justice, of healing, of opportunity.

Women in South Sudan are not just victims of conflict, we are the backbone of recovery. We are the ones who rebuild homes, who mediate disputes, who teach children under trees when schools are closed. We are peacekeepers in our own right.

If I could speak to global leaders, I would say: listen to us. Fund our grassroots efforts. Protect our rights. Peace cannot be imposed from above, it must be nurtured from within.