Blog Post

Through The Eyes Of A Syrian Refugee

Please, please, make it stop. Not the blood dripping down my face, but the screams of my mama. Make it stop. Not the suffocation as the boulder gets heavier against my chest, but the fear and helplessness in my mother’s eyes as she looks into the abyss- my baby sister’s lifeless eyes.Why us? Why now? It was just yesterday that I was making a necklace from broken glass and coloured plastic I had gathered from the side of the local supermarket. I wanted to give my sister a necklace for her birthday. I wanted to get her something better with the $5 I got from selling my pet pigeon of 3 years, but my mama was drinking puddle water again, after we finished the good water that was supposed to last the entire week; I couldn’t help it, I was so thirsty. I could feel the saddness and guilt my mama put on herself, since we couldn’t afford the basic day to day things. She would have never wanted me to spend my pocket money on water. I wish I could help, but it’s so hard to find a job around here.Plus, I am too young. If I was lucky, the local supermarket would give us some leftover bread, which used to save us a lot of money. Because my mama sows people’s clothes and on some days no one would come by.


I still enjoyed my life. My friends and I always make up games with whatever was around: rocks, cardboard, glass. I loved my pet pigeon too. My friends and I would try to find bird nests and try to make them our pets. We never had the riches, it was a simple life- one I was grateful for.
So what did I do to deserve this? We never hurt anyone. Why did Bashar Al-Assad drop bombs on our small town, what did my family ever do to him?
Oh, some of the neighbours are helping me out of this wreckage now. What is going through mama’s mind right now? How will she cope, how will I cope? My baby sister is gone. How will mama be able to afford all this? We don’t have money for food, let alone medicine…
“GO GO GO” I hear a man scream. We were all shoved into a van and before I knew it, I was on a little boat. Where are we going? At least mama is here too. After a few hours, the tides gets too strong, our little boat can’t handle it. I’m underwater. Mama help, Mama where are you?

 

 

 

 

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