I believe in peace. Growing up I would always see my father on the computer. His head would be slightly tilted down and he would have a serious expression on his face. He was listening to the Somali BBC, listening to his own hope of a country united, a country presently shattered into fragments. To me it was easy; it was easy to believe that Somalia would never get better, that there would always be anarchy and bloodshed. But for my dad, everyday was a day closer to peace.
I felt at peace at twilight. When I was in Kenya, I would wake up everyday early in the mornings and walk through the streets. Walking in the streets early in the morning toward the sun coming up was beautiful. It was just me, and the multihued sky. In its purple, blues, pink and reds, no painting would ever justify it. The silence and suspense of time was what made me feel peace. It was as though there was only silence and beauty and what I felt was peaceful.
I believe in peace because of the conditions my parents and many other people had to deal with. I believe in peace because with peace there is happiness. Peace isn’t just stopping bloodshed, it’s the feeling you have when you sit on a hillside and look at the open field, and it’s the song that makes you want to dance till sunrise and the raindrops that hit your nose. Peace is security, happiness, content. Peace is something that everyone should attain and be able to maintain.
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