Hardly a day goes past that you don’t see a post on social media from some group or other that begins with 'On this day' or something similar recording the anniversary of the death of someone in the Troubles.

It’s a constant reminder of the violent loss of life, across the years, across age groups, across all areas and across all sections of the community.

It’s often said that the victims are forgotten; I don’t think that’s necessarily true.

They’re not forgotten, it’s more that the shame of society is not knowing what to do about victims and survivors, or how to handle the legacy of conflict. We haven’t managed to agree or implement a process which is a victims-centred approach.

Reminders of victims and survivors are constantly there, and so they should be.

Even in the last few days, for example, I read about the experiences of two men who were born in Ireland in the 1930s whose very different lives were grievously impacted by the Troubles.

One is still living, one died some years ago. Just two people among many thousands of victims and survivors of decades of bloodshed and violence.

Jim Dixon, born in Clones, Co. Monaghan is 86 now; this week he went into hospital to have his 47th operation for injuries he received in the Enniskillen bomb of 1987 when the wall of the Reading Rooms collapsed on him causing facial damage which changed his appearance for ever. 34 years on, he lives in constant pain, so the phrase “our past is our present” applies to him as much as anybody.

Speaking to the Sunday Independent at the weekend, Jim is still demanding answers about what the British Government knew about the IRA bombing.

This week also, we were reminded of another man of the same generation, this time born in the north, in Portaferry in fact.

But Father Hugh Mullan would never make it to old age, cut down at 38 as he kneeled over a wounded man praying. Father Mullan, a good man described as a peacemaker, was one of the 10 victims of the British Army in the Ballymurphy massacre in August 1971. Others included a mother of eight children and a former World War Two veteran back home in Belfast.

The focus, rightly so, has been on the heart-rending stories of the Ballymurphy families this week, and their 50-year battle which has resulted in the vindication that their loved ones were completely innocent and not gunmen and gunwomen as they were smeared at the time.

We’ve all watched and read the accounts of these families and their long struggle for recognition of the innocence of those killed. The reaction has been universally supportive. Well almost.

What has been a little disconcerting is the slow or low-key response by many within Unionism. To her credit, Arlene Foster led the way with empathy for the families, and her line “grief is grief” was particularly appropriate.

It seems at times that many interests still see violent deaths through the prism of one side or the other.

Yet, the sanctity of life should see us embrace a common humanity that values all life and acknowledges that every single loss of life diminishes us all as a civilised people. That should be a starting point in any consideration of the past, and in building a future which ensures such levels of inhumanity never happen again.

But by some sick twist of fate, on the day that the Ballymurphy families were vindicated and even a former head of the British Army described the episode as shameful, the British Government was confirming plans to proceed with what is an amnesty in all but name.

Surely nobody is in any doubt that the main motive for this Government’s new legacy strategy is to protect British soldiers from prosecution and to cover up the British establishment’s role in the “dirty war” here.

I’ve heard that in certain constituencies in England, at MPs surgeries a common request from voters is to protect veterans from prosecution. So no wonder MPs see looking after “our boys” as a vote winner.

And while the broadcasters in England did their job in covering the Ballymurphy inquests, it’s significant that the coverage in English daily newspapers the day afterwards was scant. Think about that.

A Coroner in a British court ruled that the Army had killed 10 innocent people on the streets of a UK city, and it doesn’t make the front pages of English newspapers.

So, in the context of this Government’s motivation, its plans for a renewed legacy process cannot succeed, not least as it is also a unilateral announcement with no consultation with parties here, with the Irish Government, with victims and survivors groups, or indeed any stakeholders in the very place where it will apply.

Notwithstanding all this, though, it has to be said that the issue of legacy must be addressed.

It is rightly said that we cannot go on the way we are going. Any process which leaves the onus on families such as the Ballymurphy folk to fight for 50 years to get acknowledgement of their hurt and recognition of the truth is flawed.

Other families on all sides may take inspiration from the clear focus of the Ballymurphy families and the strategy of their legal teams, but there must be a better way. The Government’s plan to ban prosecutions of killings pre-1998 and to introduce a truth recovery process just isn’t it.

It goes against the principle of justice to simply shut down a legal avenue to a victim seeking redress. And that is in the context of most people accepting that the chances of people appearing in court is low and diminishing further as time goes on.

While the idea of drawing a line and moving on may seem attractive to some, particularly younger people with no recollection of those dark days, I think it simply would not work.

Also, as regards a South African style truth and reconciliation commission, an equivalent process here would be difficult.

In South Africa, there was a whole new dispensation in a new country. Here, the dispute over identity and constitutional arrangements which caused the conflict are still very much in existence; in fact, it would seem that we have moved from physical battles to a battle of which narrative wins.

In that context, would we really expect republicans, loyalists and state forces to come forward and reveal everything; even if they were guaranteed immunity from prosecution, I’m not sure there would be enough trust in the information given.

And, of course, we are such a small community so imagine the repercussions for families and friends who have to live close by to people who have come forward and admitted committing violence upon them in the past.

I realise this week’s column raises the issue of dealing with the legacy of the past and I basically knock back a number of suggestions at dealing with it. I don’t have the answers, but I certainly don’t think a British Government going on a solo run with the selfishness of protecting its own interests is the answer either.

At some point, there will have to be a process in which information recovery is central and people of goodwill will come together to ensure the proper acknowledgement of the awful hurt caused to so many people.

I often refer to the need for a shared society, and part of that is a shared acknowledgement of the pain of the legacy of the past.