Peace is rarely a singular event marked by the stroke of a pen on a treaty. Instead, it is a grueling, incremental, and often generational process that unfolds in the shadows of systemic stress and limited resources. It is an everyday labor that requires persistence long after the cameras of international media have moved on. Because peacebuilding is inherently a long-term endeavor, its success depends entirely on the inclusion of those who will inherit the future. Today, a new generation of young women is stepping into this vacuum, asserting that lasting stability is impossible without their leadership. From the war-torn streets of Yemen to the divided communities of Cyprus and the Indigenous territories of Colombia, these women are proving that the architecture of global security must be rebuilt upon three essential pillars: inclusive participation, radical dialogue, and the fundamental right to safety.
The first pillar, participation, is often the most difficult to secure in regions where traditional hierarchies remain entrenched. For Olla Alsakkaf, a 30-year-old activist from Yemen, the pursuit of peace was never a choice; it was a necessity born of survival. Living through a civil war that transformed her home city into a battlefield, Alsakkaf found herself positioned between the warring factions and the civilians caught in the crossfire. Her early years were spent volunteering in local conflict mediation, a role that exposed her to the brutal reality of how the climate crisis and armed conflict intersect to disenfranchise the most vulnerable.
Despite the fact that women and youth bear a disproportionate burden during times of crisis, they are systematically excluded from the rooms where decisions are made. Alsakkaf points out that barriers to participation are not just political; they are structural and environmental. In Yemen, the absence of reliable electricity and stable internet connections creates a digital divide that silences activists. This was punctuated by a poignant moment in 2020 when Alsakkaf was invited to address the United Nations Security Council. As she prepared to speak to the world’s most powerful leaders about the struggles of Yemeni youth, her internet connection failed, effectively severing her voice at the very moment it was finally being sought.
Beyond technology, social taboos further stifle progress. In many communities, discussing issues such as period poverty, domestic violence, or the gendered impact of climate change is seen as a violation of cultural norms. Women who dare to speak publicly about resource scarcity—particularly water, which is a primary driver of conflict in arid regions—often face online harassment or the threat of arrest. Alsakkaf argues that this exclusion is a strategic error. In the Yemeni context, women manage the intricacies of the household and local resource distribution; they understand the granular details of survival that high-level negotiators often overlook. By failing to treat young women as partners, the international community misses out on the innovative, tech-savvy solutions that the younger generation brings to the table.
The second pillar of lasting peace is dialogue—a process that goes beyond mere conversation to reach the level of human connection. This is the focus of Elene Gureshidze, a 22-year-old from Georgia who recently participated in the SheLeads: Upcoming Leaders Programme in Cyprus. While walking through North Nicosia, Gureshidze encountered a piece of street art that resonated deeply with her: “My ancestors have self-harmed for generations.” The message served as a stark reminder of the cyclical nature of conflict and the psychological scars that pass from parent to child.
Gureshidze’s work involves bringing together young women from communities divided by decades of ethnic and political strife. In these settings, the weight of history often makes communication feel impossible. During one UN Women workshop, the atmosphere was initially thick with tension; the participants shared no common ground other than a working knowledge of English and a vague desire for peace. Recognizing that formal political debate often reinforces divisions, Gureshidze turned to an unconventional tool: play. She organized a padel match, carefully mixing the teams so that no one was playing alongside their own "side."
The results were transformative. The simple act of chasing a ball and engaging in lighthearted competition broke the ice, replacing suspicion with shared laughter. This "playful diplomacy" created the psychological safety necessary for the raw, difficult conversations that followed. The women began to discuss displacement, prejudice, and the painful question of whether their communities could ever truly coexist. For Gureshidze, the lesson was clear: the objective of dialogue is not necessarily to reach a consensus or an immediate political agreement. Rather, the goal is to build trust and transform "the other" into a peer. By designing board games that challenge cultural stereotypes and fostering cross-community interactions, she is working to ensure that the next generation does not repeat the "self-harm" of their ancestors.
However, neither participation nor dialogue can flourish without the third pillar: safety. In many parts of the world, leadership is a high-risk endeavor, particularly for those who exist at the intersection of marginalized identities. Nil Bailarín, a 29-year-old from the Antioquia region of Colombia, understands this reality with chilling clarity. “We don’t want to be made famous after we are dead,” she says, reflecting on the high rate of assassinations among community leaders in her country. “We want to be heard before.”
Bailarín, a trans Indigenous woman, describes her journey as one of "resistance and pride." Growing up in a region scarred by Colombia’s long-standing internal conflict, she witnessed the immense pressure placed on "cuerpos y espíritus diversos" (diverse bodies and spirits) to conform or disappear. She recalls the trauma of seeing Indigenous trans girls forced to cut their hair and erase their identities, alongside the pervasive shadow of domestic violence. These injustices fueled her mission to protect women and gender-diverse individuals from the threats of kidnapping, killing, and systemic erasure.
In 2022, Bailarín made history by becoming Colombia’s first trans Indigenous governor. Today, she works with the ProDefensoras programme—a joint initiative between the Indigenous Organization of Antioquia and UN Women, supported by the government of Norway. Her approach to peacebuilding is grounded in tangible, community-level security. She has worked to bring internet access to remote territories so that students can pursue their education without having to walk for hours through dangerous, conflict-prone areas. She has also helped establish an ecotourism association to provide local women with economic independence, which is a vital component of personal safety.
For Bailarín, peace is not an abstract concept; it is tied to the territory, to the preservation of culture, and to the right to dream of a future. Her leadership serves as a beacon for young people who have long been told that their voices do not matter. By creating safe spaces for women defenders from diverse ethnic backgrounds to gather and organize, she is ensuring that the peace process in Colombia is truly inclusive of those who have historically been left on the margins.
The stories of Olla, Elene, and Nil illustrate a fundamental shift in the global peacebuilding landscape. These young women are not waiting for an invitation to the negotiating table; they are building their own tables in their communities. They are demonstrating that peace is not merely the absence of war, but the presence of justice, the opportunity for dialogue, and the guarantee of physical and digital security.
As UN Women prepares to launch the second phase of the Young Women Peacebuilders Initiative, the international community is beginning to recognize that these "essential ingredients" are not optional. Supporting young women peacebuilders is not just a matter of equity—it is a matter of efficacy. When young women lead, they bring innovative perspectives to climate security, use technology to bypass traditional gatekeepers, and utilize empathy to bridge generational divides. The work of these three women serves as a call to action for Member States and global partners to invest in the leadership of young women, ensuring they have the resources and protection necessary to turn the dream of lasting, sustainable peace into a reality.
