You can’t hide the sun.
You can’t hide the moon.
And no matter how deep the shadow, you can’t hide the truth forever.
In the wake of conflict, when bullets pause and soldiers return to rain-soaked camps, a different kind of war begins: the war over what happened, over who was right and over what the world should believe.
We have seen this unfold clearly in recent days. While guns were lowered, narratives were raised. Some voices grew louder, not to calm the region, but to tilt the truth. Major international media outlets – those we once trusted to illuminate the facts – seemed to cast only one light, often leaving our side in the dark. Stories were told from one vantage point. Headlines were framed to fit one perspective. And in those silences, where balance was missing, distortions flourished.
But we do not blame them.
We blame ourselves if we stop telling our story.
Because the truth – like the sun, like the moon – has a way of rising. Eventually, inevitably, it will be seen.
We saw this clearly at the border. Under a flag of friendliness, Cambodian soldiers were called forward with waves and smiles. There was even a proposal to take group photos. What followed was not peace, but a trap, a forced detention. What began as a gesture of reconciliation became a tool of humiliation.
But we remain calm. And we remain kind.
Because kindness is our nature, not our weakness. Yet even in kindness, we must be vigilant, for we cannot afford to fall into another trap, or any further dirty trick.
What we learn from this moment is not to harden our hearts or blame our soldiers, but to open our eyes, wide and unblinking. We must not let our goodwill become someone else’s weapon. We must not confuse hospitality with surrender. In peace, as in war, vigilance matters.
Meanwhile, across screens and timelines, a digital crossfire erupted. Users from both sides lashed out online. But the truth is not built on insults. It is not shaped by trending hashtags. It is revealed in the quiet work of those who choose clarity over chaos, facts over falsehood, and consistency over convenient excuses.
So let us stay firm, not frantic.
Let us respond, not react.
Let us speak, not shout.
Our truth does not need to be exaggerated. It only needs to be told.
This is where our institutions, our journalists, our youth must rise. Not with louder voices, but with stronger facts, deeper ethics and quiet compassion. We must document. We must clarify. We must continue. Even when ignored. Even when misrepresented.
We do not aim to silence others.
But we will not let ourselves be silenced, nor bullied.
The sun rises without permission. So does the truth. And when it comes, it doesn’t ask who is ready. It simply shines.
So, to those who mislead, distort, deny, or even bully, you may hold the microphone today. But you will not hold the truth forever.
Let us walk forward with dignity. Let us stand by our soldiers, not only at the border, but in the battle for facts and justice. Let us be the nation that speaks with honesty, defends with integrity, and never forgets who we are.
Because in the end, no shadow or nation is strong enough to bury the truth.
Not the sun.
Not the moon.
Not the truth.
Ever.
Meas Sopheak is a citizen of Cambodia and a doctoral student at Nagoya University. The views and opinions expressed are his own.
