I was just a kid then. Born in the outskirts of Damascus, I was unaware of the doings surrounding us. Our 5-membered family almost had everything. Dad was solvent and it wasn't the most important thing. Rather we needed safety amidst all these genocides. That's why before me and my sister was born we moved on to a safer area.
But things started to get worse when a group of extremist identified the area. By that time I was a 2nd grader and started to absorb the environment within myself. I remember people flocking beyond the border over to Jordan. We almost packed everything for the next day migration. Migrating to an unknown culture, with an unknown identity. Since we needed sufficient food items to make it to the other side, which may take 2-3 days, mom dad and my elder sister went to a nearby store for essentials. And i don't want to remember the next moments.
Half dozen of missiles flew over and penetrated through the buildings including that store, killing 50 and leaving more 100 injured. Grandma rushed me to the hospital without telling me a single thing. All i saw was three bodies covered with a white piece of cloth and she was weeping infront of them. That scenario made me realize that I just witnessed the capsizing moment of my life.
Grandma broke down and as a result our fleeing away got cancelled. But still she took care of me like every mom does. And most importantly she provided me safety but without any formal studies, although I learned my language and writings from her. Two years went by amidst all these fear. Fear of being blown away, fear of being brushfired. Food supply got hindered. And condition got worse for the residents. And all those made my grandma bedded. At one point I had to make arrangements for lunch or dinner.
One gloomy noon, those extremists took control of the area and started to raid every house. Everyone's being warned by then. But granny couldn't even get down from her bed, let alone running away for life. And when they raided the house next to us, those firings pierced my ear and I knew I had no other option other than leaving the last surviving member of my family to get killed. I looked at her face and saw something I never saw before; a heavenly smile. I left through the exit door, and somehow I managed to join a migrant group and left my dead family members, the dead city behind for the refugee camp.
It's been almost two decades and I was selected among top 5 refugees who are willing to complete their studies. Currently the Chief Convener of Human Rights Association. And now sitting on a well-cushioned sofa, I realize that I am just an orphan with every possible worldly materials.
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