Bridging Voices

When we pay close attention, we notice that everyday life itself holds examples of harmony within diversity. These examples are around us – either very close, or perhaps distant, but in any case, there are many of them, reproduced and reappeared in numerous ways and cycles. The examples of social diversity and the harmonious acceptance of human differences are created by us. Sometimes we do it rationally, sometimes we are guided by our hearts and instincts. Either way, we create them when we don't shy away from befriending people who are different from us; when we don't judge or ostracize someone for the decisions they make.

 This text is about those who live like this and cannot live otherwise. It’s important to know that they are right beside us, because when we think of minorities and social diversity, we are not always reminded of harmonious experiences. On the contrary, negative information often comes to mind: cases of discrimination, rejection, fear, and alienation, as reality is also burdened with such stories. Research confirms this. Year after year, the situation seems not to change. The 2024 report from the Public Defender’s Office also states that "...the spread of stereotypes and stigmas hinders the real process of achieving equality…"

 … In this text, you will meet Liova and Shorena, whose friendship nothing could prevent – neither stereotypes, nor preconceived notions, caution, or even differing.

Story #1

"Some parents do not want their children to interact with people with disabilities," says Liova, who moved to Tbilisi from Batumi a few years ago. He shares a story about his friend, Shorena, who believes that every individual carries great diversity within themselves. "Just because they do not say it out loud does not mean they do not feel it. Just as we have our struggles and emotions, so does everyone else," Shorena explains her perspective on disabilities and differences.

Liova lived in Batumi, where he clearly felt that "there was a space between myselfand others," a space that made him feel unsafe. After moving to Tbilisi, he found his community in a school for the visually impaired.

He recalls that, at first, when he took his first independent steps on the streets, he was afraid, but he did not give in to fear. Over time, he learned to "move forward with this fear, and eventually, it diminished."

"There is only one school for the visually impaired in Tbilisi, no others," Liova says, fondly remembering his time there. "We had so much fun. Even blind children played hide-and-seek... I felt at home, among my own."

Liova left Batumi after coming out about his sexual identity, which created even greater barriers in his relationships with old friends and family members. That is why school Tbilisi, new friends that he made there, playing music, and later engaging himself in painting became essential (almost survival) motifs to his life. These elements, over time, gave him the confidence that he could live independently.

He knows that without Shorena, this journey would have been even harder. Shorena was genuinely interested in who Liova was, what he thought, and what he felt. She also realized that their friendship could positively change them both, and they both wanted that.

"I believe that people influence one another. For a long time, I had certain thoughts, but then I realized that we are afraid for the wrong reasons, that we run away unnecessarily," Shorena says, adding that Liova's confidence brings a sense of calm to her, as she is Liova’s close friend and confidant.

 "I want diversity to be seen as an ordinary part of society," Liova says.

Shorena managed to be Liova’s friend rather than his guardian. Theirs is a relationship of equals.

Story #2

This story comes from the highlands of Ajara. It is not in the past—it is happening now. It is about people—members of the same family—who, beyond religious dogmas, set examples of understanding and respect for one another.

Welcome to the village of Tsabliani in the Skhalta Gorge, where Natia lives with her large family.

"I was 14 when I said I wanted to be baptized. My family accepted it as a normal thing. They stood by me. There was no obstacle, no one saying, ‘No, you cannot be baptized, you cannot be a Christian,’" Natia recalls. Her family is traditionally Muslim.

In Tsabliani, most residents are Muslim, as is the case in many highland villages of Ajara. Natia’s family includes an elderly matriarch, Grandma Maguli, who also accepted her granddaughter’s religious transition with understanding, explaining it simply: "Things change."

"Some in our family remained Muslim, while others leaned toward Christianity... Friendship and love are easy," says Grandma Maguli.

"When you love someone, you love them as they are. We grew up with this idea," adds Natia’s aunt Maia. In their home, both the Quran and the Bible have a place. They celebrate both Easter and Bayram.

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The three generations of women in this family show that nothing is more precious than being together, maintaining family unity, and cherishing their homeland, where even a small watermill in the stream that runs down nearby their house seems to wash away rigid dogmas and fears.

Story #3

Now, meet Iasha and Zura from the village of Hokami in Javakheti.

"This man is Muslim, and I am Christian, but in both sorrow and joy, we are together," they introduce each other, standing in an open field, joking and describing characteristics of one another. Watching them, the most striking thing is not their words but how intently they listen to each other and how close they seem in that vast space.

In Hokami, Iasha and Zura live alongside Georgians, Armenians and Muslims.

"My son got engaged to a Muslim girl. A Muslim boy got engaged to a Christian girl and their relationship is harmonious," says Iasha.

The village has both a mosque and an Orthodox church. They celebrate each other’s religious holidays together. "God is one, but prayers are different. We all serve the same God," says Zura.

Iasha adds, "If only people across Georgia could live together as we do in our village," because he knows that coexisting with ethnic and religious minorities is often problematic. One of the main barriers is the lack of a common language.

…

These three stories, collected from different parts of Georgia, continue today. They are small fragments of the ongoing reality in which people accept and respect one another.

In truth, all it takes is careful observation, and you will find similar stories elsewhere—stories proving that people with diverse backgrounds build connections effortlessly, showing interest in one another and breaking cultural taboos to unblock the path to understanding.

The more you listen to such people, the clearer it becomes that their simple life choices transform their surroundings and communities. 

For them, tolerance is not an imposed value or a source of self-righteousness — it is a necessary tool for navigating life. A community that chooses empathy over conflict ultimately contributes to a healthier society.

So, we leave you with an idea for a simple experiment: Try to recall relationships in your own life that are based on openness and mutual respect. Because we have found them, we know you will too.

Author: Tamar Kvinikadze

The Bridging Voices campaign is produced by Indigo in partnership with UNDP and Norway.