The guns have gone quiet, for now.
But the smoke from the last explosions still lingers. The black haze from F-16 bombings and heavy artillery fire hangs above our border villages, a cruel reminder of what we have endured. The echoes of gunfire may have faded, but in our hearts, the pain remains sharp. The memory, unshakable.
A ceasefire has been declared. Our soldiers are resting, some returning to base, others still watching the horizon. The displaced wait in pagodas, schools and open fields – tens of thousands of families hoping to return to what’s left of their homes.
But the grief is heavy. And the question that now echoes across Cambodia is not and should not be who fired first, but how do we make sure this never happens again? What have we learned? And more importantly: what must we do now?
Let us be honest with ourselves.
For years, many of us have turned our gaze westward, admiring the taller towers, smoother roads, brighter lights. We spoke of that one neighboring country as a model of progress, sometimes even as a mirror to measure our own shortcomings. We compared. We praised. We looked up.
But this war, however brief, has revealed a harder truth: no matter how much we respect others, they do not always respect us. In too many eyes, we are tolerated, not trusted. Smaller, not equal. Watched, but not heard.
Let this be the last time.
Let this be the last time our soldiers stand outnumbered, yet unshaken.
Let this be the last time our children stop learning because the sky turned to fire.
Let this be the last time mothers cradle their newborns in crowded shelters, wondering if the world even notices.
We ask for no pity. We demand no vengeance. But we say with quiet force: Never again will we be looked down upon.
From this day forward, let us love Cambodia not simply with words, but with work.
Let us rise, not in anger, but in unity. Like VannDa sings, let us rise to become more than what they expect, more than what we’ve been told we can be.
Let us stop waiting. And start building.
Let us believe that dignity begins in how we treat one another, and how we defend what is ours.
Let us educate, not just to pass, but to lead.
Protect, not only with weapons, but with wisdom.
Create, not just to consume, but to compete.
And remember, not to hold hatred, but so we never forget.
This is not about who they are.
It is about who we must become.
We are a people who have endured. Now we must transform.
Let our pain give us purpose.
Let our losses awaken our love, for this land, for one another, for our future.
We may be small, but we are not weak.
We may be humble, but we are not without worth.
And from this day forward, we will stand – not behind, not beneath, but beside any nation in the world.
Let this be our beginning.
Let the next sunrise shine on a Cambodia more united, more ready and more proud than ever before.
Meas Sopheak is a citizen of Cambodia and a doctoral student at Nagoya University.
