When whole systems were erected for the sole purpose of repressing and silencing you, how do you recover your voice?

On far too many continents, in far too many remote villages, tumultuous townships and forgotten urban alleyways, whole generations have witnessed their pregnant daughters being raped as evening entertainment for armed men, have survived the terror of disappearances in the dead of the night, and have seen the charred bodies of their sons in bombed car carcasses.

Where can these communities turn for a silver lining of justice, a possibility to heal and recover, a sense that the future may be livable?

When the level of atrocities finally recedes, what great big tide can come to cleanse with salty waters the bruised bodies and tortured souls left as wrecks on the shores of history?

Truth be told. Reconciliation is hard. But the only thing harder than that, apparently, is a lifetime of bitterness and hatred, being eaten away with fantasies of revenge, and the unspeakable grief that secret crimes beget.