Our Homes Are Two Minutes from Each Other but a Peace Wall Makes It 20 Minutes

Our homes are two minutes – For Lily Brannon and Michelle Bradley, the physical distance between their homes in Belfast is a stark reminder of the city’s complex history. Without the barrier that separates their neighborhoods, the two friends would have been able to meet in just two minutes. But the peace wall on Springfield/Springmartin Road forces them to take a 20 to 30 minute walk, highlighting how segregation has shaped daily life for generations. Their friendship, built through a cross-community initiative, underscores the power of human connection in overcoming division.

The History of Peace Walls in Belfast

Peace walls, also known as peace lines, were constructed to divide areas of Belfast where nationalist Catholics and unionist Protestants lived side by side. These walls, which have been part of the city’s landscape for decades, were initially meant to reduce sectarian violence. Today, 39 remain, according to the Department of Justice, though some have been redesigned or scaled down since devolution in 2010. The walls are a symbol of the Troubles, the 30-year conflict that ended with the 1998 peace agreement, but they still serve as a daily reminder of the social divides that persist.

For Lily, 73, the wall represents a psychological barrier as much as a physical one. She was born before the Troubles began, so her early life was shaped by a society that had not yet been split by conflict. Michelle, 46, grew up during the height of the violence in the 1980s. Despite their different generational experiences, both women have found a way to bridge the gap through shared interests and a willingness to engage with the other side.

Cross-Community Engagement at Black Mountain Shared Space

Meeting through a cross-community project at the Black Mountain Shared Space in west Belfast, Lily and Michelle exemplify the kind of relationships the International Fund for Ireland (IFI) seeks to foster. Funded by the peace barriers programme, the initiative brings together residents from divided areas to collaborate on creative activities. These efforts aim to cultivate mutual understanding and reduce prejudice. “There was a bit of fear in me, but it was more the fear of the unknown—not a hatred,” Michelle recalled, reflecting on her initial hesitations.

“We were never taught to hate anybody, but there was a real fear. I think the fear was you thought they hated you before you met them,” Lily added, emphasizing how perception often precedes prejudice. Her words highlight the subtle but enduring impact of segregation, even as it creates opportunities for reconciliation.

The program’s activities, which often involve art and cultural projects, have helped ease tensions. Michelle, an Irish speaker, and Lily, who has learned a little of the language, share a bond that transcends their different backgrounds. Michelle’s involvement with the Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA), a group historically associated with Catholic communities, and Lily’s participation in the project have deepened their connection. “That’s something me and Lily are both into. We’re very creative people, so it kind of bonded us a bit,” Michelle explained, underscoring the role of shared passions in building trust.

Breaking Barriers Through Dialogue

While the peace walls have created physical separation, the project has also sparked meaningful conversations. “We’ve had to just learn how to listen to each other, understand each other, and still walk away with our own identity,” Lily said, acknowledging the challenges of navigating opposing viewpoints. These moments of critical engagement have been tense at times, yet they have also proven transformative. “We live either side of the peace wall and without the project and the funding from IFI, we would never have met,” Michelle remarked, her tone a mix of surprise and gratitude.

“So it’s crazy the fact that we would never have met, but now we would consider ourselves friends,” she continued, illustrating how structured programs can turn strangers into allies. The walls, once sources of division, have become catalysts for connection in some cases.

The IFI, established in 1986 by the British and Irish Governments, has played a vital role in funding such initiatives. Over the past 40 years, the organization has raised more than £780 million, including support from America, the European Union, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. Its peace barriers programme specifically targets projects that promote coexistence, like the one that brought Lily and Michelle together. “We seek to unearth quiet peacebuilders—individuals and organisations whose work in arts, culture, sport, and enterprise contributes to social cohesion,” said IFI chair Shona McCarthy, who highlighted the organisation’s ongoing commitment beyond its 40th anniversary.

The Broader Impact of Cross-Community Efforts

Michelle’s experience is not unique. Many residents in Belfast have found that shared interests can overcome years of distrust. The Black Mountain Shared Space, for instance, hosts events that allow people to engage in art, music, and sports, creating spaces where differences are acknowledged but not allowed to dominate. “The wall is a barrier, but the projects are bridges,” Lily noted, her voice carrying both nostalgia and hope.

For Lily, the project has been a revelation. “If we need anything done, Michelle will sort it out for us,” she said, her hand briefly clasping Michelle’s as a gesture of solidarity. This mutual support reflects the broader goal of cross-community programs: to build networks of collaboration that sustain peace long after the walls are built. The initiative has also enabled Lily to visit Michelle’s GAA club, a step that would have been unthinkable in a more segregated past.

Despite their progress, the peace walls remain a part of Belfast’s identity. The city’s 20 miles of such structures, built during the Troubles, were once symbols of division. Today, they are a testament to the resilience of communities that have found ways to coexist. “We’ve had to learn how to listen,” Michelle said, a sentiment that encapsulates the spirit of the project. As the IFI continues its work, Lily and Michelle’s story serves as a microcosm of the broader movement toward reconciliation in Northern Ireland.

While the walls may still stand, the friendships they help create offer a glimpse of a more unified future. For Lily and Michelle, the journey from suspicion to camaraderie has been transformative. Their experiences highlight how even in a divided city, the human desire for connection can lead to meaningful change. As the 40th anniversary of the IFI approaches, the organisation remains focused on nurturing these relationships, ensuring that the peace walls are not just physical structures but also reminders of the progress made through shared efforts.