The plan was good. The timing, not.

My husband and I’ve been talking about flying to England to visit family for some months now. Over the last few weeks, we’ve been checking for the best fares and ideal flight times. Deliberation and a tad of blasé-ness lost us a couple of better fares, so we finally did the deed last weekend.

The US and Israel attacked Iran that same weekend. Fleetingly, I thought about our reservation, a minuscule consideration in the current global state of affairs.

War/conflict is not good. Whatever the narratives by countries and parties, usually, with vested interests for creating wars, and justifying or not justifying them. It’s become alright to attack, capture and do whatever you want on sovereign soils, if you have the economic heft, military might and financial strength, and audacity. Lawlessness is reigning.  

War disrupts and destroys lives. People get injured, maimed, and killed. People who are powerless. People who didn’t have a say. People who might have had a say but their say or vote didn’t influence or sway the decision makers. No matter, it’s still the people who are caught in the crossfires of not their making.

Plus, the emotional and physical pain and turmoil of losing family members – fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, grandparents and grandchildren, and friends and their families. One death is one too many. I cannot say this enough. Every life is important regardless of the passport and name it carries. 

I wish there were no abusive autocratic regimes and administrations in the world. Wishful thinking, I know. To be clear, I don’t support any of the warring countries. To be honest, I’m not sure which one of them is less bad. Lies, propaganda, bombs, misiles, drones are still killing people.

The death toll in Iran has surpassed 1,000. ‘Civilians are bearing the brunt of these attacks, and the country is under fire from every direction. We know 300 children and adolescents have been hospitalised … with more than 6,000 [people] wounded[1]’. While, Iran’s retaliatory attacks have caused deaths across the region including in Bahrain, Kuwait, the UAE, and Iraq[2]. 

More deaths and human sufferings continue in the protracted wars in Ukraine and Gaza. There are also on-going active conflicts in Sudan, Ethiopia-Eritrea, Mali, Burkina Faso, and Venezuela. The International Committee of the Red Cross reported that humanitarian organizations are working in more than 100 armed conflicts globally. Hmm.

There is an apt Malay proverb, ‘Gajah sama gajah berlawan, pelanduk mati di tengah-tengah.’ The direct translation reads, ‘When elephants fight, the tiny mousedeer dies in the middle.’ 

Back home, I feel dissapointed when politicians, I’m disinclined to call them leaders, do not pass legislations or change policies that they vehemently promised they would during campaign trails, and when they were in the opposition. Political will changes when they are in government.

That said, I’m grateful to live in a peaceful and safe country. A privilege, I honestly don’t take for granted. I can live my life freely, without fear, violence, or conflict. Go where I want, when I want, within reason. I’ve a constant supply of food, water, power, Wifi connection and reliable transportation.

Yes, there are different beliefs and opinions, there are complaints and insults, and there are some protests, mostly organised. But, I can go to sleep at night, knowing I will wake up in the morning, despite my insomnia, to honking vehicles and people travelling to places of learning, work, and business. There’s stability and continuity. Comfortingly nice.

I still remember my mum’s stories of life during WW2 and the Japanese occupation. Her education came to an abrupt stop because schools were closed, and there were disruptions to public amenities. Food was scarce. Rice was a luxury while ubi kayu or cassava was her staple diet. Ironically, even in her latter life, she liked having it boiled or steamed and/or with coconut milk.

There were air raid sirens during which my mum and her family had to shelter. At night, they lit kerosene lamps, and used them frugally. There were deaths, disappearances, and large scale atrocities suffered by the local people. My mum shared some gory tales of decapitated heads placed at road junctions that was supposed to serve as lessons to the living. One of my mum’s relatives was taken away one night, never to be seen or heard from again. A scarry time.

All in all, tens of thousands of ordinary people, civilians died during the war. Via massacres, forced labour projects, starvation, malnutrition, and diseases. And, for what? What was achieved?

I can’t make sense of man-made wars. The deaths, devastations, and repercussions it causes. The years it takes to rebuild lives – emotional, psychological and physical. The irreversible environmental loss and damage. The money and resources it takes to redevelop property and infrastructure. And, the time and confidence it takes to restore financial and economic stability. 

Peace not war.