There’s been too many unnecessary tears. Too many doubts. But one thing is clear. There is no going back to terrorism. No going back to arms. The future will be made of conversation sans bullets and bombs, without unnecessary death and enforced misery.

This was the future apparent and unavoidable, the future that agonized child and parent, the future that involved dispensing death and bereavement. The future that is no longer future nor one to take eyes away from, in fear or horror or both.

Had things not ended when they did, this child would be clinging to someone for different reasons.  Who knows, this child might not have had anyone to cling to for all able adults were forcibly recruited for combat purposes.  Today there is comfort. Assurance. Yes, tinged with natural anxiety.  The future is not rosy, yet. 

It is said that sometimes when you’ve suffered loss after loss, there comes a moment that you run out of tears to weep.  Death ends it all.  Life, however, is forgiving. It yields.  There is a tomorrow that will change expressions.  This is what war-end enabled.

The steadfast gaze is a sign of hope, for it can now be directed at futures that can be realised: education, employment, getting married and raising a family.  Those were dreams not longer ago and ones whose realization was not contemplated.