What two Kenyan taxi drivers told me on 5 minute drives

Driver 1 from the airport to the hotel

Good evening. Where are you from?
From South Africa.
How is South Africa?
Fairly good. We are eagerly awaiting the announcement of President Ramaphosa’s cabinet.
How is the security situation in South Africa?
There is a room for improvement. Some people don’t respect human life.
You should do what the Kenyan government has done.
What did they do?
They identified the criminal gangs and just finished them off.
What do you mean?
They just killed them. When people realise the government will kill them, they don’t do mischief.
I cannot agree that extra-judicial killings are a solution.
I tell you, this is the best solution.
Why don’t you arrest them, take them to court and punish those who are guilty?
There is a much quicker way: just finish them off. We don’t even know what happened to the bodies. I think they were thrown into a river.
So you think that is what we should do in South Africa?
Yes.
Eish! No, my brother, that is not the solution.
Enjoy your stay at the hotel.

Driver 2 from the hotel to the airport

Good morning sir. Where are you from?
From South Africa.
Really?
Yes, I’ve been living there for 276 years.
Are you really that old?
You know, we don’t live only since our birth. My genes have been in my ancestors, who came to South Africa in 1743 and I have genes from other African people as well.
So you are an African?
Yes, I am.
In Kenya you can become a citizen after having lived 10 years in the country.
That’s reassuring.
Where are you off to?
To South Sudan.
What is the difference between South Sudan and South Korea?
Well, South Sudan is your neighbour and South Korea is in Asia.
Is there anything good in South Sudan?
Of course! There are wonderful people in South Sudan.
Do any of them believe in peace?
The vast majority believe in peace, but there are a few who do not value human life.
So why is there so much fighting?
Most South Sudanese are not fighting.
Have a nice flight.
Thank you.

What I have learned from working with younger and older people

Young people under the age of thirty make up more than half of the world’s population. The quest to unleash the vast potential this generation holds starts with radically challenging belief systems we have held onto for a long time, the terminology we use, the quality of the shared spaces, and the processes we have held on to for dear life in the firm belief that they work. Here are some of the lessons I have learned.

Firstly, we learn more from young people than they learn from us.

For some reason older people think they can “teach” younger people about almost everything. Sadly, many young people reinforce this stereotype by believing that  leaders ought to be people who are more experienced and older. This mindset reflects a certain level of stuckness in an outdated dominant paradigm that has long outlived its shelf-life. Young people are not empty vessels and older people not necessarily the fountains of wisdom, who can legitimately claim an exclusive right to fill these so-called empty vessels and shape the minds of the younger generation through “training and capacity building” workshops.

People of my generation cannot pretend that we have all the answers to guide young people in a fast changing world. In my experience, young people are much smarter, have the ability to be more innovative and are far more resilient than what we tend to think or acknowledge. The wisdom and abundance to navigate and lead in the 21st century lie “in and between us” (Parker Palmer).

Secondly, creating a safe and uncomfortable space fosters genuine human interaction.

For the past thirty-six years I have worked in different capacities with a wide range of people in different countries. Whether I was the lead facilitator of UN Resident Coordinators retreats or co-facilitator of life-changing Unyoke retreats in South Sudan, we always sat in circles — not in classrooms settings. I came to accept that the initial resistance from lower level UN organizing staff who preferred a more formal setting (head table, protocol, podium, data-projector, etc.) had more to do with their own fears within a context of power than with the reality that, no matter your status, human beings value spaces where the “quality of presence” (Lederach) matters more than “ego-massages” or perceived personal safety zones.

Thirdly, we change not because we are told to think differently, but because we experience something differently.

It takes courage to disrupt existing terminology, current paradigms and longstanding practices. In my experience it is possible to be more creative, but it takes courage to break the chains of habits that alienate us from our common humanness. There is an abundance of “knowledge” out there in classrooms, on the internet and in the media. So why do we think that “telling people” what we think they ought to know is more important than holding a space for genuine interaction, such as having quality one-on-one and small group conversations, walking in nature, deep story-telling, listening, art, poetry, playing and having fun together, dancing, singing and eating together? These are ways of working that engage people’s brains, bodies and spirits fully and creatively. What makes us think that reading “bullet points” on slides are the most effective way of learning and discovery? Why are programs often packed to the rafters with superficial ways of engaging and participants kept busy with listening to “experts” from mornings to evenings? Why do we still talk about “training” and not about “mutual exploration” and “practice sessions”?

In my experience, people learn by discovering and doing. That requires a commitment to re-humanize and authenticate our processes and approaches. Our task is not to lull people into familiar spaces or a false sense of comfort. Our task is to make it sufficiently safe for discomfort that pushes people to “learn, unlearn and relearn” (Alvin Toffler).

Finally, inter-generational accompaniment requires a commitment to nurture and sustain relationships over the long term.

In my experience, this is achieved in the most sustainable ways through journeys of accompaniment. Accompaniment, in the musical sense of the word, means that the sole responsibility of the accompanier is to create the background music and space for the main instrumentalist to shine. The accompanier always supports, never dominates and never seeks the lime light and credit. He or she can only be a good accompanier when there is deep listening, attunement, and humility.

There is a reason why we are called human beings. We are humans who discover how to be with one another and make sense of what we experience.

Accompaniment starts with a commitment to walk together for as long as it takes, regardless of project timelines and budgetary constraints. Practicing a “discipline of being available” is crucial to reassuring one another that we are not alone. It is in walking together that we jointly explore our common path and face our shared emerging future step by step. No-one has the answers. “Traveller, there is no path. Paths are made by walking” (Antonio Machado).

The N.R.A. and the land of the alligators

One day a group of animal lovers lobbied for the right to keep alligators to protect their property against other people who had bigger alligators. 

It was illegal to keep alligators, although many people did so. The constitution of the country was amended to protect their right to own alligators. And so the animal lovers created an organisation called the National Reptile Association (NRA).

Being under no threat any more, the alligators multiplied in numbers. Some people had so many alligators that they could no longer feed them all. So the crocs escaped from their cages and disappeared into the swamps, rivers and dams.

Alligator owners were not worried, because they just made sure they had the biggest alligators in the neighbourhood.

Before long, the first attacks happened. Innocent people were attacked in their own homes. Crododiles are not good at distinguishing between friends and enemies. It was mostly the men’s alligators that attacked the wives and in some cases even the children.

When the first child got killed by a alligator, all hell broke loose. The media reported on the shocking attacks, but nobody blamed the alligators or their owners. They defended the second amendment to the constitution.

The NRA was very well organised at this stage and had a slick PR campaign in defence of the alligators. “Don’t touch our alligators. It’s not a alligator problem! We have a right to keep alligators to defend ourselves.”

They persuaded the government to remove all obstacles that could harm the alligator industry. The more alligators everyone had the safer the whole country would be, was the argument.

Alligator breeders made huge profits and became very, very rich. There was no restriction on who could own a alligator. Even a 12 year old could keep as many alligators as she wanted. 

Nobody could control the NRA and the alligators any longer. They became bigger and more aggressive. Brazen attacks became a daily reality — in homes, in nightclubs and public spaces. Their favourite feeding spots became schools and campuses. Scores of people died.

The students rose up, marched through the streets and shouted: Enough is enough!  But nobody heard. The lawmakers played golf. When asked for his comment, the President responded by sending more alligators to teachers to protect the rights of alligator owners.

Because it’s not a alligator problem, can’t you see?

Dialogue from the shadows

Dialogue that focuses on "issues out there" without at the same time exploring the "shadows in here" are at risk of staying at the level of intellectual gymnastics. We pride ourselves in being brilliant analysts and operate like prophets who see and expose all the wrongdoings of others. Nothing wrong with being a prophet in a skewed society, as long as we see ourselves as part of the problem. Again, as I've said so many times, it is much harder to honestly face ourselves and admit to the parts of ourselves that we criticize in others than to continue fighting as activists.

Richard Rohr says: "Human consciousness does not emerge at any depth except through struggling with our shadow. It is in facing our conflicts, criticisms, and contradictions that we grow. It is in the struggle with our shadow self, with failure, or with wounding that we break into higher levels of consciousness. People who learn to expose, name, and still thrive inside the contradictions are people I would call prophets."

While nobody in debates is likely to admit to their own debates, dialogue opens the possibilities for authentic conversations that traverse the canyons of our own brokenness so that we can all emerge with illuminated minds and stronger relationships. We are contradictions living in contradictions.

Don't rely on political parties to promote dialogue

An edited version of this article was published here. 

The ANC and DA are not serious about dialogue.

           

Chris Spies

2 April 2017

The failure of our leading political parties to take dialogue seriously is tragic and very, very dangerous.

When cadres are lining up in battle formations along the crack lines of constant contestation and competition, those in the shrinking middle retreat into their political and ideological corners. Political parties love it, because this is how they mobilise their supporters.

We are steadily descending into an abyss, step by step, judged by Friederich Glasl’s Nine Stages of Conflict Escalation:  tensions, moving beyond debate to humiliating actions, coalitions and loss of prestige, threats, limited attacks and destroying the enemy. We not only have a destructive conflict. The conflict has us and the cracks are getting wider by the day.

The glue that binds us together is our common humanity — our ability to rehumanise one another. We can only do that if we dare to step out of our corners into the uncomfortable safe spaces of genuine interaction where we listen to each other deeply enough to be changed by what we learn.

It seems as if the ANC and DA beg to differ.

In 2012 City Press published my article “Is the ANC serious about dialogue?” in which I said that ANC Policy Documents showed no signs that the party took dialogue seriously. How could we preach to the rest of the world that they should dialogue when we allow dialogue to slip out of our vocabulary and our practice?

The 2017 ANC discussion documents confirm my worst fears: There is zero interest in getting South Africans talking across the divides. Zilch. See for yourselves.

There is not a single mention of dialogue in the “Legislature and Governance”,  Organisational Renewal and Organisational Design, Economic Transformation and Strategy and Tactics of the ANC documents.

The International Relations document states that there is “no progress towards dialogue and a political solution for a two-state solution in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict”; that there is a need to “Strengthen North-South Dialogue”; and that the ANC need to assess “the ideological orientation and character of the various fraternal organisations and parties on the continent to identify those with political visions that are reconcilable with that of the ANC to determine the basis of party- to-party dialogue.”

The Peace and Stability document, which one expects would call for dialogue in South Africa, mentions dialogue only once under, wait for it, the “Correctional Services” heading. There is a “Victim–offender Mediation and Dialogue” programme with the aim of “placing victims
at the centre of its activities.”

So, I thought, surely the Social Transformation document would prove my scepticism wrong. At least everyone realises that social transformation is about weaving the fabric of a society that transforms itself because citizens converge towards common values and standards through ongoing multi-stakeholder dialogues, right? Social transformation happens because people understand why change and transformation are needed and are coming together to transform the root causes of inequality, injustice, racism, corruption, not true?

No, there is not even a hint that social transformation includes dialogue. The only reference to dialogue is in relation to the “outcomes of people’s dialogues through izimbizo and other stakeholder consultations” … [that formed] … the basis for the policy shift from “housing to human settlements development”.

A policy dialogue in 2014 is the only mention of dialogue in the Education, Health, Science and Technology document.

The title of Communications and the Battle of Ideas document already indicates that it’s all about winning the battle of ideas. If your purpose is to win, then there is no dialogue to think together, understand and explore.

And what about the media, which ought to be one of the prime platforms for dialogue?  No, all that is needed is “a debate about media transformation … [which] does not happen in a vacuum and must be located within the broader debate regarding dismantling of monopoly capital and radical economic transformation”. The media “has also played a part in trying to thwart ANC and its alliance partners initiatives to initiate radical transformation…The ANC must focus on breaking up such monopolies and on ensuring participation of black South Africans, and in particular Africans (my emphasis), in all sectors of the media and across the media value chain.”

The only ray of light is in the paragraph on “Fourth Industrial Revolution…that will impact on all aspects of the South African society” … [which will make] … it necessary that effective structures for ongoing dialogue on the challenges and opportunities take place between a range of stakeholders on a continuous basis”.

The DA fares even worse. Only two out of seventeen policy documents mention dialogue: three times in Arts, Culture and Heritage policy document and once in Labour Policy document.  Art is useful “to continue an open dialogue about our history and heritage” and “to facilitate dialogue between different cultures and people around the world” and the National Economic Development and Labour Council (NEDLAC) … was intended to be a forum for social dialogue, and the platform for consensus-building around mechanisms to promote social development and economic growth.” 

That is it. Nothing more. 

As a dialogue practitioner I am absolutely stunned.

How did both the ANC and the DA not notice that they consistently fail to use the language of dialogue, and to differentiate between dialogue, on the one hand, and consultations, debate, discussions and negotiations, on the other hand? Do they genuinely believe that talking only to themselves and shouting to their opponents will lead us anywhere?

There is simply nothing to suggest that the ANC and DA have a vision of a country that has dialogue as its first default response to problems. When there is no vision there is also not an understanding of what can go wrong if we don’t dialogue.

The ANC and DA are just like political parties everywhere: They look as far as their political noses and focus only on the next elections.

President Jacob Zuma said the ANC, comes first — not the country — because without the ANC the people will be misled and will stay under perpetual oppression. Yes, uBaba, if the ANC is the saviour, why would you put the country first? If the ANC will rule until Jesus comes what is there to dialogue about?

It is clear that the ANC and DA, and most likely all parties in parliament, have no clue that dialogue is the “Art of thinking together,” as William Isaacs says:

”Dialogue … is about a shared inquiry, a way of thinking and reflecting together…” When we enter into “unwitting ‘argument’ mode’ … [we] … stand in a stagnated pond of our own predispositions and certainties and blindly defend what we have as necessary and unalterable.”

Standing blind and sinking deeper into in a stinking stagnated pond is killing us as a nation.

The failure to lead us on a path of dialogue is the surest way not to achieve radical economic transformation, because we are wasting tax payers money and ignoring a cheaper and more effective way of solving our problems.

We pay millions to investigate allegations of wrongdoing and waste taxpayers money to fight senseless and avoidable court cases but we fail to create a dialogue mechanism to help us work problems out amongst ourselves. We have fallen far behind Ghana and Kenya who created functioning institutional mechanisms to foster dialogue and mediate conflict.

It does not have to be like that. What should we as citizens do?

It is very clear that we cannot rely on politicians to lead us towards dialogue. The polarised political climate characterised by destructive parliamentary behaviour, internal factional battles, power struggles, allegations of corruption, state capture, and the tendency to inflict maximum insults and damage on political opponents make political leaders part of the problem — not the solution.

In 2012 Brigalia Bam wrote “Our young democracy is now entering into a phase where we can no longer ignore the value of dialogue. No longer can we rely on our struggle credentials and our past heroes. We need to become the heroes of today and tomorrow. Our legacy should not be sought in monuments for fallen heroes, but in a united nation that unlocks the potential of all its people, especially the youth.”

How do we unlock the potential of everyone?

Refuse to live in fear and do not become part of a faction. The middle ground is the most dangerous space, but we will have to occupy it and enlarge it. Make the circle wider. 

Refuse to be used as voting cattle that only count during election times. Your vote is not for sale. Do not believe anything people in power tell you. Find out for yourself. (One of my favourite quotes is “Never believe anything until it is officially denied.”)

We cannot afford to take the foot off the citizens’ action accelerator.  This is our country. We do it for the sake of our children and grandchildren.

Rehumanise one another. Listen, talk, engage, and seek first to understand and then to be understood. Make friends. Eat, pray, cry, laugh and dance together. Share what you have and be generous. 

We are, as Paul Hawken says, part of the immune system of this planet. We can transform stagnated ponds into running rivers.

Chris Spies is an independent conflict transformation and dialogue practitioner at Dynamic Stability. He is a Senior Fellow at the Institute for Justice and Reconciliation and facilitator of Unyoke Retreats for international and South African peacebuilders.

The real purpose of dialogue and mediation

Keynote address by Chris Spies to the National Conference on Peace and Justice through Mediation
Annapurna Hotel, Kathmandu
27 May 2016

Ladies and gentleman (all protocols observed),

It is a great honour to share a few thoughts about Peace and Justice through Mediation. I do so in a spirit of admiration for what Nepal has achieved over the last decade and still continues to achieve. I am also grateful for the invitation by The Asia Foundation (TAF) to share a few thoughts. TAF  has consistently worked with its local partner organisations to make mediation part of the DNA of this country.

TAF’s dedicated focus on the empowerment of local stakeholders to prevent, manage and resolve conflict at village, regional and national levels is an excellent example of how external and internal partners should work together. TAF understands. correctly, the importance of local peace initiatives in building a peaceful and cohesive Nepal. At a time when international actors seem to be less willing to support dialogue and mediation, TAF has increased its activities to help build a Community Mediation Society, Regional Dialogue Forums and teams of local mediators in many districts.

Let me also congratulate the government of Nepal for having embraced and supported the need for a structure and institutions for mediation.

In this keynote address I hope to challenge us to widen the scope of our understanding of what the purpose of melmilab / mediation and sambaad / dialogue is. 

The core argument that I am putting forward is that the real purpose of dialogue and mediation is to rehumanise and heal societies so that they are stronger together to build a fair, just, peaceful and cohesive society.

But first and foremost, let us reflect on the concept of melmilab. (I will explore the meaning of sambaad  later in this address.)

The UN Guidelines for Effective Mediation describe melmilab as “a process whereby a third party assists two or more parties, with their consent, to prevent, manage or resolve a conflict by helping them to develop mutually acceptable agreements.”

Each word in this working definition is loaded. It is a good definition, especially in the sense that it places the responsibility of the resolution of conflict in the hands of the affected stakeholders.  The principle of local ownership is key to mediation. It further underscores the fact that mediation is about the prevention of destructive and violent conflict. While it is true that mediation normally produces agreements, we should not make the mistake to think that the only purpose of mediation is to produce an agreement—a signed piece of paper. 

In South Africa there was no single comprehensive peace agreement, but a series of messy and turbulent small footsteps away from a traumatic and dehumanising apartheid past towards a just and peaceful society. The ultimate seal of a peaceful transition was the adoption of our Constitution two years after the first democratic elections.

We completed the transition. A new system replaced the monstrous apartheid system. But our transition did not heal the wounds. It also did not offer justice and redress to the victims of apartheid. Geoff Budlender uses the following metaphor: “It often seems to me that apartheid was like a building: the apartheid laws created a scaffolding for the building when it was being erected – but when the scaffolding was removed after 1994 through the repeal of the apartheid laws, of course the building did not fall down.”

Today, 22 years after the so-called “South African miracle”, the country is at a boiling point. The past is still very much with us. The unfinished business of our transition has come back to haunt us. We have not paid enough attention to the transformation of the system, our institutions and the redress of injustices of the past. South Africa is the second most unequal society in the world. The young people are angry because of the lack of transformation in the country. They are facing an uncertain future in a country that officially has a 27% unemployment rate and where the majority of the poor is black and in many respects still disadvantaged and whites continue to benefit from privilege. Racism is sadly growing like a cancer that destroys us from inside.

The problem with destructive conflict, such as South Africa’s apartheid system, or a violent revolution, or a civil war, is that it wounds, fragments, humiliates and dehumanises people. Martha Cabrera talks about “multiply wounded societies” and cites research that millions of dollars are wasted on empowerment programmes because people are in need of healing.  They cannot move on with their lives because of the unresolved past.

In South Africa  white people inflicted these wounds on black people because we saw them as “less than” us. We humiliated them, destroyed their dignity and treated them as inferior people. We physically and geographically separated ourselves from “the other”, making sure, of course that we, the whites, owned the land and economy. We even manipulated theology and the education system to justify the creation of a brutal system of oppression.

We believed our own myths and stereotypes and acted on the basis of fear for “the other”. We institutionalised violent oppression through acts of parliament and the used the full force of the state apparatus to execute unjust policies.

Afrikaans—my language—became the tool to oppress black people and we forced them to learn Afrikaans in schools. That is why the Soweto uprisings started in 1976.

The way we spoke about black people was violent. We called them “kaffirs” and “hotnots”, compared them to monkeys and made derogatory jokes about them. I personally heard white people say to me:
“The only good black man is a dead black man.”

In our workshop earlier this week Nepalis told stories of Dalits and lower caste people who were denied water because of their caste. Of course the victims felt humiliated and dehumanised. Their only power they had was to fight back with matches and lighters to burn down the crops of higher caste farmers.

Nepal has anti-discrimination laws in place, but these laws are fighting an uphill battle against centuries of norms and values in some Nepali societies.

Our capacity to inflict pain and suffering is mind boggling. Whether in Nepal or South Africa or elsewhere, all of us have the capacity to either destroy or rehumanise one another. I am ashamed of what happened in my name and will for the rest of my life try to understand the pain of those who suffered.

Two months ago, 26 years after this tragic episode in our history, I witnessed a black pastor broke down in tears as he told stories of how his team mates in a soccer team slit one another’s throats when the ANC-Inkatha Freedom Party conflict broke out in KwaZulu Natal in the early 90s. “Can you imagine”, he said, “friends killing one another. What for? For whom?”

The pain of the past is still with us. The problem with the past, say the Irish, is that it isn’t in the past. The scaffolding has fallen, but the building still stands. The past is here, now, and before us. We live between narratives of pain and hope for a better future. But this hope is often killed by humiliation and fear.

We create our past every day because we re-tell these stories to our children and grandchildren again and again. We memorialise fallen heroes and respect those who fought on our behalf.

So here are the questions we are facing: How do you mediate the pain of the past? What do you do with wounds, with humiliation, with memories, with destroyed aspirations, with economic futures being destroyed and people condemned to an existence of daily struggles in poverty? How do you make sense of the senseless deaths of children and breadwinners? How do you work for justice and healing? By jailing all the culprits? Will a truth and reconciliation process bring reconciliation if it only focuses on transitional justice? Is melmilab the answer? Sambaad?

Nepal puts a high prize on mediation. You have a mediation council and legislation to refer disputes to mediation. Working with Nepali mediators in TAF programmes has left me in no doubt that an 82% success rate in mediating 27000+ disputes with the assistance of over 7000 volunteer mediators is a fantastic achievement.

In many communities and VDCs mediation is now the preferred choice of response to conflict. That is really something to celebrate.

When I asked these mediators what inspired them to become involved in mediation, many of them—especially lawyers—said that what attracted them to mediation was the fact that they believed that while courts pronounced on who is right and wrong, the justice system could not heal the relationships or repair the damage of the injustices. Witnessing first hand how disputants got relief by reaching their own agreements was proof that mediation really work.

In theory everybody in Nepal has access to justice, but in practice that access is unequal.

This is where sambaad (dialogue) comes in. What do we mean by sambaad?  Sambaad, to my knowledge, is not a word that was frequently used in Nepal. People spoke of barta (negotiations) or bad bibaad (debate). Sambaad is “a voluntary and safe process of genuine interaction through which human beings listen to each other deeply enough to be changed by what they learn. This change happens because people develop joint understanding, shift their relationships and commit to taking joint action.”

The purpose in sambaad is not so much to reach an agreement. The purpose is to enquire, to understand better. We rehumanise one another and restore one another’s dignity by listening to one another. We are not so much interested in establishing who is right or wrong, but in what we need others to understand about our journeys and views.

Sambaad is part of the mediation process, but goes before and beyond the formal structure of mediation. If sambaad could become the default response to conflict, mediation may in many cases not even be necessary. Sambaad is not always the only answer, but it is the way to bring healing, peace and justice to wounded people and societies.

Dialogue spaces are completely different from mediation and negotiation spaces. In dialogue the emphasis is on understanding one another—seeing the world through the eyes of the other.
If you know that I understand what you want me to understand, our relationship may shift from a competitive one to a collaborative one. We can shift from “you” and “I” to “we”. It is not so much about “it” (the issue), but about “us” and how “we live together as citizens/villagers/families” in our common space with a common purpose.

In Africa we have the principle of Ubuntu: “A person is a person through other persons”. Put differently, “I am because you are.” We are interconnected. If you suffer, I suffer; your pain is my pain. If your dreams are realised I am celebrating with you. If you are hungry I cannot sleep well. If you are thirsty I need to share my water with you.

If our approaches to building peace through dialogue, mediation, facilitation, and negotiation fail to rehumanise and re-member our dismembered and fragmented societies; or fail to inspire and strengthen people to transform their own conflicts in future, those spaces were wasted. (I am using the word space not so much in the sense of a physical space, but a process and a structure where people feel safe enough to engage with integrity, honesty and a willingness to listen.)

John Paul Lederach, a long time friend of Nepal, talks about “mediative spaces”. Mediative spaces don’t fall from the air. They have to be carefully designed, nurtured and promoted. There is a saying that those who work for peace must be as well prepared as those who fight a war. Everybody in Nepal, from government, civil society and economic actors have an opportunity to design an imaginative infrastructure for lasting and genuine peace and justice.

At a time when Nepal is facing potentially devastating conflicts as it implements federalism and the new constitution, my plea to this conference is to do the unimaginable. Nelson Mandela said: "Time and time again conflicts are resolved through ways that were unimaginable at the start."

Dream about a Nepal that has sambaad in its DNA. Dream about a society that is inclusive and re-membered. Dream about institutions that focus on healing, restoration and rehumanisation at national, state, regional and community levels. Dream about peace with justice instead of peace at the cost of justice. Dream about a future where mediation and court cases are only needed in exceptional circumstances because people who are in the habit of sambaad prevent the escalation of destructive conflict. Dream about young people who use the energy of conflict to build a bright future. Dream about your grandchildren who, in 20 years from now, honour you for your contribution to leave behind a prosperous, equal, just and peaceful society.

If you can dream it, you can design it. If you can design it, you can build it. All it takes is imagination, political will and commitment. It is possible.

Thank you.