A courageous Ukrainian journalist who reported from territories under occupation disappeared in August 2023. After months of silence, it was confirmed she had been detained in Russia; a close relative died in October, distant echoes of loss. In February 2025 her body was handed over with hundreds of other fallen soldiers, initially misidentified, then confirmed by DNA—a stark reminder that the bodies of truth-tellers are often caught in the gears of war. The state of the remains and signs of injuries point to torture. Colleagues and supporters gathered at Kyiv’s Maidan, where the weight of grief settled into the ground as hundreds knelt beside the coffin; friends remembered her as someone who never complained and treated journalism as a vocation. This sorrow sits within a broader pattern, with reports that many journalists remain imprisoned in Russia, and calls growing for stronger international pressure. Editors warn that independent reporting from occupied territories has become rarer, amplifying the courage and lasting legacy of those who choose to tell the truth despite the risks.

Let our heartbreak be soil from which a new care grows. The murder of truthful reporting is a wound in the body of Earth, a scar placed upon the land that sustains us all. This is not only a breach of human rights, but a theft from the future: colonial hearts beating in new, merciless rhythms—claiming land, silencing dissent, and extracting value from pain. The violence we witness in prisons and on battlefields mirrors a deeper violence at the core of a system that treats life as a resource to be squandered in pursuit of power and profit.

We must name the harm: the ongoing trauma of occupation, the erasure of communities, and the suppression of voices that challenge power. We must challenge the colonial impulse that normalizes displacement, resource extraction, and the dehumanization of those who resist domination. And we must confront the toxic capitalist machine that values currency over caretaking, profit over people, and commodification over conscience. Systems built on conquest and extraction rot the roots of the Earth and the well-being of humanity alike.

In this moment, choose to heal. Stand for justice for those harmed by torture, imprisonment, and war journalism—and insist on accountability across borders and systems. Support independent, courageous reporting; demand protections for journalists in conflict zones; uphold international law and human rights with unwavering clarity. Let us reimagine an economy and a world that honor truth-tellers, protect the vulnerable, and repair the land we share. Let healing come as a practice: planting trees where scars run deep, restoring waters polluted by conflict, nurturing communities that shelter one another, and building a solidarity economy that values care, truth, and reconciliation above all else. If we attend to the wounds of Earth with reverence, we will find the courage to dismantle colonial legacies and the toxic capitalisms that fertilize them—making space for justice, mercy, and a world where mothers, journalists, and all beings can live, speak, and dream freely.