War, genocide, and the mission of a generation

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OPINION

By Jackline Kiconco

The Mo Ibrahim Foundation reports that about 60% of Africa’s population is younger than 25, and more than a third is between 15-34 years old, which is a powerful demographic with unmatched potential. Yet, many are born into countries scarred by civil wars, coups, displacement, and genocide.

From the Tigray conflict in Ethiopia to unrest in the Sahel, the headlines rarely reflect what these crises mean for the youth who live them, shattered childhoods, interrupted education, and stolen futures. But these same youth are also rising with hope, resilience, and a bold sense of responsibility.

In the eyes of 22-year-old Amina from Sudan, war has no politics but only pain. She has watched her brother vanish into conflict, her mother flee from gunfire, and her dreams of becoming a doctor drown beneath the smoke of violence. Across the continent, millions of young people like Amina stand at the edge of a crossroads between the trauma of history and the mission of their generation.

For many, war is no longer a story from history books. It is inherited. In Uganda, the trauma of events like the Kasese killings of 2016, where over 100 lives, many of them young, were lost in a violent standoff, still echoes through communities. Survivors and children of victims still struggle with unanswered questions, unhealed wounds, and a lingering fear that justice may never come.

In Rwanda, a generation of youth is the children of genocide survivors. In South Sudan, many grew up in refugee camps, stateless and silent. Their stories are not just personal; they are political, historical, and deeply human, and yet, they persist. They build peace clubs, mobilise communities, and dare to speak truth in places where silence once reigned. This generation does not want to inherit hate; they want to break the cycle.

The other path demands leadership, healing, and collective courage. The mission of this generation is not only to remember the horrors of genocide and war but to transform them into fuel for change. Reparations, reconciliation, and reconstruction are no longer optional; they are urgent.

This is not just about politics or diplomacy, it’s about humanity. It’s about a Congolese teenager building a school in a displacement camp. A Somali girl is starting a tech company after escaping terror. A Libyan youth rebuilding hope after loss. African youth must lead not as victims, but as visionaries. We need spaces that prioritise their voices. We need governments and institutions that trust them, fund them, and follow their lead. We need a continental mission rooted in truth, memory, justice, and unity.

As the world watches Africa, its youth are asking: what future will we choose? Because this generation, the generation of Amina, of peace builders and poets, of refugees and reformers, is not waiting. They are already marching forward. At the crossroads of conflict and hope, they are choosing mission over fear.