The circle is small but tense. We are sitting under a tree in a village in Unity State, South Sudan. Men, women, and youth lean forward on low stools. Some carry anger in their voices as they speak of cattle taken in raids. Others speak quietly about children forced into early marriages. A young man stands to confess he fears retaliation for a revenge killing.
In moments like this, my role is not to lecture or impose. It is to listen, to ask questions, to remind the group that within their own customs and traditions lie paths to peace. I have learned that people want solutions to come from themselves. My job is to create the space where that feels possible. By the end of that day, nothing dramatic had shifted. No handshake sealed a deal. But the room felt lighter. Neighbours who had stopped speaking to each other had looked one another in the eye. And for me, that was enough to keep going.