The Light of the Day and the Light of the Night

What if peacemaking isn't something that requires a platform, a title, or a grand gesture — but simply the willingness to look up from your own life and notice the person next to you?

That's the quiet wisdom at the heart of a recent conversation on the All Peacemakers Needed video series. Host Nell Rose Hill sat down with Lillunaher, a PhD student from Bangladesh, whose name literally means "the light of the day and the light of the night" — and whose approach to everyday peacemaking lives up to every syllable of it.

This is not a conversation about policy or politics. It's about a glass of water brought to a coughing classmate. About food shared with a neighbor who lost their job during COVID. About showing up for a friend going through a hard time, even when your own to-do list is overflowing. About what it means to carry the values of your upbringing into every new place you land.

Watch the full video interview below, then read on for the highlights.

A Name Worth Keeping

Before the conversation even turned to peacemaking, it began with something deeply personal: a name.

Lillunaher — that's her only name. No first name, no last name. Just Lillunaher. Growing up in Bangladesh, that was never a question. But arriving in the United States meant facing forms with two boxes to fill: first name, last name. Suddenly, her single name became a problem to be solved, split apart or doubled up to satisfy a system that didn't account for her.

"I think it's very important that we recognize our worth," she said. "I came from a very patriarchal society where it's very common to have the surname of our father or our husband. But why, as a woman, can't we just be ourselves? Why is my name not enough?"

It's a small moment, but it's a telling one. The same instinct that refuses to let a bureaucratic form erase her identity is the instinct that drives her peacemaking: the belief that every person, as they are, is enough — and deserves to be seen.

Peacemaking Starts at the Personal Level

When Nell asked Lillunaher what peacemaking means to her, her answer cut straight to the heart of it.

"When I hear the word peacemaking, for me it comes mostly from a personal level," she said. "It's something that comes from our position — what we can do as an individual. And it's not I versus you. For me it's mostly us versus the problem."

Us versus the problem. It's a reframe that changes everything. When the conflict isn't between people but around them — something to be solved together rather than won against each other — the entire dynamic shifts. Walls come down. Listening becomes possible. Solutions start to appear.

This is where Lillunaher's peacemaking begins: not in grand gestures, but in small, consistent, eyes-open presence.

The Glass of Water

One story from the conversation stayed with us long after the recording ended.

Lillunaher described a moment in a classroom back in Bangladesh — a highly structured, teacher-centered environment where students were expected to sit quietly, follow the rules, and not disrupt. A classmate started coughing. She needed water.

Lillunaher got up and got it for her.

It sounds simple. But in that setting, breaking from the expected behavior took something. It took noticing. It took caring more about the person than the rule. It took the courage — and it is a kind of courage — to let compassion override convention.

"You are in that moment," Lillunaher said. "You know what is going around you."

That attentiveness — that refusal to go through life on autopilot — shows up again and again in the way she moves through the world. During COVID, when neighbors lost jobs and couldn't put food on the table, she shared portions of her own food. When she sees someone elderly struggling to cross a road, she helps. When a friend is going through something hard, she calls first — not because someone told her to, but because she genuinely wants to know how they're doing.

"I want to be present as much as I can," she said simply.

Raised in Community, Shaped by Diversity

Where does this come from? Lunahar doesn't hesitate: it comes from how she grew up.

She was raised in a joint family — around 17 or 18 people under one roof. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, all living together, all caring for one another across generations. When her grandparents were sick and couldn't get up, she watched her parents feed them. When she was sick, her cousins and aunts took care of her.

"I grew up in an environment where all the people in that family cared for each other," she said. "I think that's the reason I feel this is the most important thing in life."

But it wasn't just family. Her neighborhood in Bangladesh was religiously and culturally diverse in ways that shaped her deeply. Lunahar is Muslim, but her neighbors were Hindu. During Eid, her Hindu neighbors came to her home and shared in the celebration. During Puja, she went to their home and shared sweets. No one made it complicated. Everyone just showed up for each other.

That spirit traveled with her to the United States. Her best friend here is Catholic. She went to church with her, curious and open. She was invited to Christmas. She said yes.

"It's very important right now in our world not to judge each other," she said. "Not to think that my culture or my view is the best thing. It's very important to try to understand the other side of the story."

Community Showed Up When She Needed It Most

Theory is easy. Practice is harder — especially when you're the one who needs help.

Lillunaher shared a moment of real vulnerability from her own experience. When she finished her master's program, her housing lease ended in mid-July, but she couldn't move to Boston for her PhD program until mid-August. A month gap. No housing. A real possibility of having nowhere to go.

She didn't end up homeless — because her community showed up.

An American friend took her in. A friend's family welcomed her. International students from Bangladesh, from Burkina Faso, from different countries and backgrounds — all opened their homes to her and her husband, no questions asked.

"All of them helped me," she said. "Even though they were from different cultures, different backgrounds, different religions."

The experience didn't just move her. It changed her. Now, when she sees another student facing a similar situation, she knows exactly what she wants to do.

"I want to step out and hold their hand. That's how it works."

And then she said something that might be the simplest, truest summary of what peacemaking actually is:

"Sometimes I think we make it really complex — like how to make peace. But sometimes it can be that simple."

Tips for Everyday Peacemakers

When asked directly how others can become better peacemakers, Lillunaher's advice flows naturally from everything she's already shared:

Look up. Notice the people around you. See who might need a glass of water, a listening ear, a meal, a phone call, or simply someone sitting next to them.

Listen more than you speak. You can't always change someone's circumstances. But you can be present. You can listen. Sometimes that's everything.

Approach difference with curiosity, not judgment. Every person you meet comes from a culture, a tradition, a story that shaped them. Get curious about it. Ask questions. Share your own. You'll almost always find more common ground than you expected.

Be patient. Intercultural understanding takes time. Peacemaking takes time. Give it the room it needs to grow.

Remember: it's us versus the problem. Not you versus me. Not my culture versus yours. All of us, together, against the things that divide us.

Be the light of the day and the light of the night.

Because All PEACEMAKERS ARE NEEDED.

The All Peacemakers Needed video series features conversations between everyday people exploring the practice of peacemaking. New episodes are released regularly.