This article was first published by CSPSS. Peace Connect was hosted by Peace Direct, which runs Peace Insight. This is not a sponsored post, and Natalia's reflections have not been altered or shaped by our team.

A transformative encounter

From October 13th to 17th, I had the privilege of gathering in Nairobi, Kenya, with nearly 600 peacebuilders from more than 90 countries, most of them from the Global South. For me, this was a transformative experience – personally, professionally, and organisationally. Words fall short to express my gratitude to Peace Direct for organising this event, and to the Civil Society Platform for Peacebuilding and Statebuilding (CSPPS) for selecting me to represent the network in this major international space.

Day 1: A blow to our collective awareness

According to the International Crisis Group, this is the most dangerous moment in 30 years to work on peace and security. Violence continues to escalate, impunity keeps expanding, and multilateralism is in crisis. CIVICUS reminds us that only 3.6% of countries have a truly open civic space.

But data – no matter how harsh – does not hurt as much as the stories behind it.

From the very first day, we found ourselves sharing a deep, silenced pain: wars, forced recruitment, structural violence, gender-based violence, harm against children and young people, emotional wounds, ruptures, silence. Stories that no statistic could ever contain.

That day, I couldn’t stop crying. I stepped out for a while, sat in silence, and listened to the internal tsunami of helplessness, rage, and grief… until slowly, it shifted into something else: admiration, hope, gratitude.

By the end of the day, I realised that it wasn’t just my pain – it was our collective pain, connecting us beyond any border.

Day 2: Self-care as a political act

Peace Direct designed the event with a core principle: caring for those who care for others.

That day, I accepted the invitation to disconnect – truly disconnect – from work, from my phone, from expectations.

In that emotionally safe space, I felt the exhaustion of years without pause. Since founding LATIR in 2017, I haven’t taken a vacation. Wherever I travel, I remain connected to everything happening in Colombia.

Three reflections shaped that day:

  • our exhaustion is sometimes invisible even to ourselves;
  • we must stop individualising and pathologising discomforts that are structural, or normal reactions to abnormal situations;
  • and wellbeing must be addressed on three levels: micro (individual), meso (close relationships), and macro (systems and institutions).

That day, I breathed again.

Day 3: Networks that hold us and give meaning

With a lighter heart, I used the third day to deepen my connection with the network that brought me to Nairobi: CSPPS.

I had the honour of visiting the family of Hibo Yassin, an extraordinary woman who dedicated her life to justice and peace, and who passed away in June. Although I never met her in person, I could feel her legacy in that encounter filled with love and memory.

Hibo is still present.

We continue naming her.

Day 4: Key learnings

That day, I understood two essential things:

First: Peace is lived and measured through everyday life.

Communities define what it means to live in peace, how peace looks and feels, what breaks it and what sustains it. The questions matter. Local answers matter even more.

Second: storytelling is political action.

Stories mobilise hearts, shorten distances, and turn the abstract into something real.

That is why the session co-led by CSPPS and UNOYLocalizing the YPS Agenda – was so powerful: it allowed us to see the Agenda through real testimonies of young people building peace in conflict-affected yet hopeful territories.

Day 5: Returning home

On the last day, I chose to accompany Colombian colleagues in the panel Transformative Memory: a Path Toward a Culture of Peace, facilitated by Redepaz.

I returned to my roots and recognised the enormous legacy of Colombian communities in memory processes, resilience, art, and cultural transformation.

We are leaders.

We are resilient.

We choose to tell another story.

What I take with me

This encounter allowed me to return to questions I had buried under daily urgency. I came back reconnecting with my work and with the responsibility – and the right – to take care of myself. I came back honouring the diverse ways of building peace, and strengthening alliances that are already beginning to flourish.

Peace is not built at the speed of our desire, but at the speed of history.

And history is slow.

But every daily decision leaves a mark. Every gesture matters.

Every shared story transforms.