What price do we pay?

The photograph, above, was taken early this morning, outside my home in the Luxembourg Ardennes. It’s a peaceful place. It is also a refuge for families of migrants from Syria, Ethiopia, the DRC, the Philippines and other places of struggle and conflict. It is the home to a some French, German and Belgians whose countries border this small landlocked country, together with this one Guyanese and a hundred plus Luxembourgers.

However, eight decades ago, inhabitants in this tranquil countryside were gripped by fear, hunger and division. Whole families fled their homes in this and nearby villages, hid in these fields and forests and in makeshift underground bunkers. The farmland was overgrown and neighbours were wary of each other and their alliances. Much of the Western World, including the USA, rallied together at this attempt of erasure in WWII and later poured resources into rebuilding Europe. 

At the same time, colonised countries of the Caribbean were all involved in the war effort; sending sugar, meat, dried goods, socks and scarves knitted under the tropical heat, to those in need thousands of miles away in places where few of us now are welcome. Women and children, the old and the sick were on the verge of starvation, here in Europe. Soldiers from nations, still under colonial rule, in the Caribbean, Africa, Asia and the Far East were all involved in supporting this struggle for peace and later in rebuilding towns, cities and countries. Now, 80 years on, in June 2025, we are not facing ‘history repeating itself’ but a newer and much more dangerous world. 

This patch of land is what I see each morning. A small place in which birds move freely each day, where the deer hide from us humans, where millions of insects live their lives in community, where rain falls, sun shines and grass grows. This is the peace that lives outside my home, whilst inside I rage. This is a peace unattainable to those in Gaza; this attempt to erase all memory, all past, every photograph, every item of clothing, every building, every home, every possible idea that there is a nation; a people who exist. Those in South Sudan, Syria, the Ukraine, the DRC, Niger, Iran, Myanmar, Yemen, Ethiopia and Haiti continue to augment the UN figure of 305 million individuals in urgent need. 

Sadly, wars are not only about the people, their homes, schools, hospitals and grave yards. Moreover, they are about power, economic control of resources and a deep belief in the superiority of one group over another. What emotions are we now composting in our children and grandchildren? What price are we willing to pay for peace? What will be the long-term price that we will all pay? The United Nations has called this ‘A World on Fire’ but what we are witnessing will become a legacy that will span generations.

Our words, our actions, our art, our music, across the world, continues to let leaders know that there is no way forward without peace. Seun Kuti offered a short message, this month, to the young people in Europe who clamour for peace. 

As June comes to a close, I leave you with the words of Omar El Akkad, (and title of his book). El Akkad is an author and journalist, born in Egypt, spent his early years in Qatar and moved to Canada as a teenager. He now lives with his own family in the United States. 

“One day, when it’s safe, when there’s no personal downside to calling a thing what it is, when it’s too late to hold anyone accountable, everyone will have always been against this” Omar El Akkad, 2025