A personal reflection on the true cost of war

In 1994, a war broke out in northern Ghana between the Konkomba and Nanumba tribes – a conflict that began, unbelievably, over a guinea fowl. What started as a simple disagreement escalated into a brutal ethnic conflict that claimed between 2,000 and 15,000 lives and displaced over 200,000 people.

My father, a young police officer stationed in the conflict zone, narrowly escaped death several times. Every time he recounts those moments, he says the same thing: ‘I thank God for sparing my life’. He lived, and so I was born. But it still haunts me. A single bullet in a different direction and I wouldn’t be here. My sisters would be fatherless, and my mum, a widow.

I do not deny that security services have a duty to defend their nations when necessary. Aristotle, in “Politics,” argued that a good citizen is the one who stands ready to fight for the common good. But citizens deserve the right to live for their countries – not die needlessly for them.

Can war ever be justified?

There are moments in history where war or violence was seen as the only available option: the anti-colonial struggles in Africa, the American Revolution, the Indian Independence Movement and the American Civil War. In such cases, violence was often a last resort, forced upon oppressed people with no other path to justice.

Realist thinkers like John Mearsheimer argue that security is the primary motivation of states, and insecurity, a major cause of war. From this perspective, it seems war can be justified when a nation or its people are defending themselves against an armed attack or an imminent threat.

But when human lives are sacrificed for political gain, economic profit or the egos of leaders under the guise of territorial integrity, war loses its moral grounding. While politicians puff out their chests on television and weapon manufacturers rake in billions, it is ordinary people who pay the price.

The true toll of modern conflict

As of 12 June 2025, Russia is estimated to have lost over 1,000,000 troops in the ongoing war against Ukraine. The UN Human Rights Office (OHCHR) has also recorded at least 13,341 civilian deaths in Ukraine since the conflict began. Entire towns have been erased, yet President Putin and President Zelensky – though the latter continues to engage in active diplomacy and tirelessly seeks international support – remain physically distant from the front lines, delivering speeches while families search through rubble for their loved ones.

In the Israeli-Gaza war, over 61,709 Palestinians, including at least 17,400 children, and more than 1,139 Israelis have lost their lives. The devastation is unimaginable, yet the leaders of both sides are protected by bunkers and guarded estates.

On the 13 June 2025, Israel launched attacks on Iran’s nuclear and military infrastructure, killing top generals and scientists. In retaliation, Iran fired waves of ballistic missiles, resulting in the deaths of at least two people and injuries to 19 others. The U.S. also intervened, dropping 30,000-pound bunker-buster bombs on Iranian underground nuclear facilities – a move that prompted Iran to fire missiles at a US base in Qatar.

President Trump on June 25 2025, announced that Israel and Iran had reached a ceasefire agreement and referred to the war as the ‘Twelve Day War’. Hours later however, the truce was broken – increasingly like likelihood of a renewed war that could result in the deaths of thousands of innocent people.

Why must civilians or armed forces carry the heaviest burden of decisions they never made?

The dangerous normalisation of war

We’ve become far too comfortable watching war unfold as though it were some global sport – picking sides, debating, placing blame, cheering or condemning from a distance. In the process, we forget the human cost.

What happened to preventive diplomacy? To backchannels, mediators and international frameworks designed to stop war before it starts?

Reflecting on my MPP studies, I’m reminded of Professor Janina Dill’s lecture on global security, in which she noted that ‘while international law is imperfect, it remains our best instrument to pursue global security and safeguard lives’. Sustainable peace depends not on reactive military responses but on strengthening negotiation, coalition-building and integrity in governance.

Powerful nations must stop selling arms to countries with active human rights abuses or ongoing wars. Transparency and enforcement of international arms embargoes must become non-negotiable.

It is long overdue that we reform the UN Security Council so that veto power cannot be used to block interventions, especially in cases of genocide or widespread casualties.

If none of these measures are achievable and world leaders believe war is the only option, then they must lead from the front instead of sending others to fight and die in their name. War isn’t inevitable. It’s a choice. And it’s time we stop making it.

I am alive today because my father survived when so many others didn’t – and that truth humbles me. Because for every one of me, there are millions who never got the chance.

Children who never grew up. Mothers who never made it home. Fathers who died nameless in wars they didn’t start. And that is why we must never again deprive anyone of that chance.

If I was spared, then maybe this piece can be my offering – a way of remembering those who never had the privilege to tell their stories. A plea to the world to let peace be the legacy we fight for.

Because war shouldn’t be it – not now, not ever again.