Working closely with conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV) survivors in Nepal has been one of the most difficult and eye-opening experiences of my life. It has been a reminder of the unfinished journey towards justice, even after more than two decades since the end of the 10-year-long armed conflict.

The conflict officially ended with the Comprehensive Peace Accord in 2006, bringing hope for peace, accountability and healing. Yet, for many survivors of conflict-related sexual violence, that promise remains untouched and unfinished. Their experiences continue to sit at the margins of the national dialogue and are usually unaddressed when we speak about conflict-affected communities in Nepal. Even after all these years, the survivors are living in an extremely dire situation. Many have never received any recognition from the government, and neither have their struggles and grievances been acknowledged. Their suffering is often met with silence. Regardless of the broader conversations about transitional justice, the struggles of CRSV survivors are often left behind, as if their lived experiences are too uncomfortable for society to confront.

Survivors of sexual violence continue to remain unnoticed in the systems of justice and care. Many have lived for years without any psychosocial support, without proper health facilities and without any medical services. In many cases, they have been compelled to survive on the edges of society, holding trauma that is both physical and deeply psychological. This continued silence has real consequences in their everyday life. The CRSV survivors still cannot openly share what happened to them. They cannot come forward and speak their realities in public spaces, even within their own communities, without fear of being stigmatised, judged or further isolated. The weight of shame is often unfairly imposed on them, compelling them into years, sometimes decades, of hiding and emotional isolation. For countless survivors, the silence imposed by society has been as painful as the violence itself.

It is usually difficult to understand why, after so many years, the voices of these women are still struggling to be heard. How long does justice take? And what does justice even mean if it continues to exclude those who suffered the most? Working with the survivors and witnessing their lived realities has transformed my understanding of justice and accountability. Their resilience in the face of decades of ignorance has taught me the power of listening, the importance of being seen, the urgency of challenging systems that continue to overlook their rights and realities, and the need to remain hopeful for justice. Their strength is unquestionable, but that should never be mistaken for justice. Survival is not the same as healing.

Survivors are always excluded from processes intended to deliver the truth, justice and reparations. For survivors, justice cannot be measured by policies and promises alone. Without recognition, reparations and psychosocial support, transitional justice risks becoming a fake promise rather than a process that genuinely changes lives and restores dignity.

Accountability is not an option; it should be a priority. It is high time to break the silence and challenge incomplete memories that continue to leave survivors’ experiences behind. The voices of conflict-related sexual violence survivors must not be treated as secondary to other conflict narratives. They must be regarded with utmost importance to fully understand their impact.

This is exactly why work on conflict-related sexual violence is not an option, but rather a fundamental to pursue justice, accountability and lasting peace. A society cannot claim to be peaceful and say the conflict has ended when the ones who have the deepest wounds have been excluded. It is about acknowledging a part of the conflict that has long been erased from public conversation and restoring dignity to those who were compelled to be silent. Two decades later, the question remains the same: How long should the CRSV survivors wait to be seen, to be believed, to be heard and to receive justice? Until that question is addressed, peace in Nepal will always remain incomplete.