Life in a minefield
This is my first ever article. I am not a writer/blogger. I maintain a diary for things such as my to-do list and reminders, my goals, scribbling and sometimes, venting. It was last week that I found purpose to write in it.
Like any ordinary day, while scrolling on facebook, a video of a Syrian kid weeping about being bombed by an airplane caught my notice. I had already heard a lot about Syria, Palestine, Israel, bombings,chlorine-attacks but it all seemed so confusing. I was completely oblivious as to what the real matter was, where did all of this start and why. I would watch Focus on Africa on BBC World News and wonder, once the deathly route from Nigeria to Europe was crossed, their hardships were over forever.
I was curious to know what was on, dismissed the current state of affairs as too complicated and had been stalling reading about it but realised it was high time. I began watching more videos of these kids and one thing was pretty evident, they were all so mature. They knew all of the politics that was on, had witnessed countless deaths of the ones closest to them, friends they would play with, right before their eyes, that I wouldn’t be surprised if they were wiser than me.
At an age where my parents would take me to our terrace and whenever a plane passed by I excitedly bid it goodbye, these kids are horrified just by the sound of an approaching airplane. One day there is greenery all around your home, a lovely bed, godlike parents, access to education, so many ambitions and the next day you wake up to rubble, shattered dreams and you may have just been orphaned. Words can’t describe their misery, but could things be worse ?
Yes. You could expect a “safer” country to offer you shelter, to rekindle your faith in life. You hope for a better tomorrow and set off on the hardest journey ever, your last hope for survival. After being deceived by various sorts of smugglers on the last few pennies you had, you have made it to the city you placed all your bets on. Now you register into one of the camps, and start to fend for yourself and your babies. No one is least bothered of how exhausted and distraught you are. You are directed towards a building that is full of people like you but no more space left in there for you. Finally you are sharing a room with 3–4 other alike families or possibly living in a tent under horrible weather conditions, without a blanket or any proper sanitary. If you’re a woman, you are bound to being assaulted sexually. You have been ripped off of your everything and now it is your dignity that is being encroached upon.
Finally you have reached a point where you wish you were bombed rather than escaping your beloved country. Yes. It was now that I realised, nothing like being in the place where you grew up. We fail to acknowledge how lucky we are to have a place we call home, such pampering parents, an education, a future to look forward to. My heartfelt gratitude to the soldiers on our borders!
These refugees were happy people like you and me. They would never leave their beautiful country. Before the uprising in 2011, Syria was in magnificent shape and today even her tiniest leaf has no life.
All these migrants wish to go back someday, they hope things will get better and their country will flourish again but everyone is bothered about their own nation. We are all bound by man-made borders for our “safety”. No one pays heed anymore to this news because we have problems of our own or because we are not capable enough to digest so much suffering or maybe because there is nothing we can really do about it or it can even make things messier or for the mere reason that a much talked about gadget’s release date is more ‘relevant’ news. So does that mean we turn a deaf ear to it all and leave them to their fate ? One thing that deeply bothers me is that if we can’t help end this, why aid it. If we cannot open our country doors to shelter them, set up more camps that are livable, why deploy warships and prolong the bloodshed. Isn’t the damage done enough yet? Humanity remains just another word in the dictionary.
It is us because of whom these kids will never know the meaning of that word. We aren’t capable enough of showing them its power. In some way we are all contributing to them growing up with all this hatred. But remember! It’s just another day, for you and me, in paradise!
Also Watch : Abid Mahi Interviews Child from inside Syria.