It was basically torture, but I wouldn’t cry, just for my dad…
The seed of hope in her is inspiring and luminous. She could lift the whole world with her love and care. A true hero.” — Ahmed Alhassan
Her Story:
At some point in my life, my whole family was scattered all over the globe. Then, it was only my dad and I, again…but at least I knew where my family was.
My story starts before everything happened — when Syria full of peace. I was living in the warmth of my family and we were living life to the most. Best things, best clothes, best schools, best everything, enjoying our ungrateful lifestyle. Our family was in a good status, we were to comfortable to go out in riots. Then everything in Syria started going downhill. We still weren’t in the worst situation but it started to change. There were many missiles falling to where we were living but thank god nothing had happened to us.
Things started to change after my sister got a scholarship to study in Turkey. My mother went after she did and it was only my father and I. I was sixteen at the time, and I had to work. I taught English and French, but I didn’t feel this is what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Until I started my university in Damascus, it was me and my father living together.
In Damascus, I stayed at my uncle’s, and Damascus became my second home. I had the best years of my education there. I got news news of a missile falling on our building in Aleppo. I was so worried, because it was only dad at home. Hopefully, my dad wasn’t at home when the missile dropped. It was our neighbor’s’ house that was burnt to the ground.
My dad had to make space for them to live, and so he decided to come here to Damascus. All of the furniture holding my childhood memories being sold at low, petty prices. It’s something hard to experience, but you know, people are dying after all! These things don’t matter. They are just things.
After experiencing our share of the war, my father and I decided to leave the country, even though it was a painful decision to take. We headed out from Damascus towards Termanin planning to go from there to the Turkish borders. On the 25-hour, horrifying and tiring way, our baggage was repeatedly and thoroughly searched with some of our clothes stolen, and we were asked to pay at every each check point. At some point along the way, I simply told my dad “Let them have whatever they want,” just for us to arrive safely. We eventually arrived in Termanin with almost nothing left.
We made our way to across the Turkish borders. It was truly the most distressing trip of my life. It was torture. During the trip, I held back my tears not to cry, for that would have stressed my dad. We already had enough on our plate, we didn’t need more stress.
Now, my dad, mom and I are in Istanbul, while my sister is in London, and my other sister in Vienna. I loved Aleppo and its people, but I feel like I belong to Damascus more. I’m currently earning my living and my parents’. Both of my sisters are married and living on their own. I worked as an English teacher, also worked in various real estate companies. Now, I am financially comfortable, but this is not the end of it. I still have my ambitions and dreams. I love arts, and I don’t want to just get this paper — this diploma. I want more than that, I want to study it because I love it, not for something else. Art is the thing that allowed me to go through all this time without being psychologically tired. I draw, it’s the way through which I express myself. I’m still planning to get into a university, other than the two that already rejected me for being myself — Syrian. I want to practice art. And if I found someone to build a future and get married with, I wouldn’t say no.
Damascus is where I’d prefer to go back. My father feels he left something back at Aleppo, but my mom says she found herself here. What we went through was the worse, I don’t think there is something I can’t overcome. I have my art and my life.
