We just want to sleep without waking up to the sound of bombs…
“She was just a little inexperienced, lost women, but now she knows where she is and where she’s going. That’s all one needs to live a happy, successful life.” —
Her Story
We wanted a change because we wanted our country to be better. We didn’t think of the violence that was coming. We were watching the news of the revolutions in Libya and Egypt but we didn’t know that there would be one in Syria as well. I was with the people’s protests, not with the killing. I was one of those who saw that peace is the solution.
I was born in Aleppo. I was a spoiled girl who — ironically — spent her life working and studying, who studied international law, but — ironically, again — knows nothing about politics. When the revolution started, I found myself involved secretly involved, secretly supporting the revolution and trying to help it. That’s what made my parents ground me at home for 4 months so I wouldn’t go out in riots. I still remember going to the living room, sitting on the sofa, and telling my dad “You’re a hypocrite!” because of the things he did. What I always thought about Bashar, is how he erased his humanity. What kind of a person kills babies? I mean, I may be able to understand killing men, but not babies, that’s sick!
I felt that I couldn’t stay silent, nor could I speak; I was between two fires; I was living two wars. But one day, I came across a hadith of our prophet’s about doing the right thing. It inspired me and motivated me, and so I kept doing what I thought was right. It wasn’t long until I felt very tired. I was on the brink of stopping. But then, somehow, I had a dream. I dreamt that the people who died were levitating to the heavens and crying out “Where’s our justice?” so I felt that — in a way or another — we had to go on. I went on to volunteering and helping the people even though I had to stop my studies and was unemployed.
One horrible memory I still have in mind and was an important part of my decision to leave Syria, was something that lasted a whole 30 minutes, and much more in our minds. One day, when I was going back home by bus, the bus was stopped and all we heard was gunfire. While being stuck in the crossfire, they shouted “Say Shahadah!” We knew it was our end. I got down on the floor, said the Shahadah, read Fatiha, and couldn’t think of anything else. You know, when you’re in a very tough, intense situation, you can’t think of anything; it’s impossible to think straight. And so, I didn’t think of calling anyone.
I was so terrified and I knew that I had to flee Syria. I moved to Gaziantep with my friend, but I didn’t find work, so I had to go back home. By that time, the only thing that changed, is that I was with an injured leg. Waking up to the sound of bombs at 7 AM every morning wasn’t much different, though. I tried everything; my cousins tried to get me out to Saudi Arabia, but Saudi Arabia requested a lot of money that I didn’t have. I had only one choice which was to go back to Gaziantep, and so I did, but this time with my sister. This time, though, I found a job with an Arabic radio station, and my sister was working as a translator online. Then, we moved to Antalya to find more opportunities, and I started working as a translator for the same company as my sister, but we faced a lot of obstacles and disturbances in Antalya. One time, the police approached us and directly told us: “Go to another state. we hate you here.”
Istanbul was the perfect next step for us. I worked in a lot of places. I worked in marketing, in an alternative medicine company, and currently doing some voice-over for ads, but still considered unemployed.
Recently, here in Istanbul, I’ve started re-discovering myself. Now I know I like writing articles and poetry and posting them online. My dream is to make the 2 films I’m working on. Even though I studied law, I feel like my mind revolves around movies. I’m currently working on a project of my own — a novel. Actually, my dream is to become the voice of those who don’t have a voice, of those who are persecuted but aren’t able to tell their stories. Because women here are very persecuted and exploited, either by their employers or by their own husbands. Here, I learned how to be strong, how to rely on myself, because people here, once they know you’re weak, will step on you and keep walking, Arabs or Turks. I discovered myself more.
Here, you feel alone. At some point I was suffering depression and it was all cured once I found out about “Meditation.” I started loving and believing in myself.
Nowadays, I see the pain and the people dying but I just change the channel because I can’t do anything for them. Because, I think, what’s the use of talking when there’s no doing?
If you could send a message to anyone, what would you say?
I just want to tell Turkish people that I love them and respect them. There are a lot of Arabs with Turkish heritage. We’ve shared a lot of things with them. Of course, there are some bad people, but there are also good ones! I hope that they see that we’re hardworking people who just want to be safe, who just want to sleep without waking up to the sound of bombs.
