Schoolgirl, 2010, Aleppo, Syria.

I am seven years old.

July 14, 2017

I’m Firas’ and Sibas’ daughter. I’m from Syria. I don’t remember anything from my life in Syria. Except, the rocking chair my mother used to swing me in for hours. She says she was trying to soothe me.


I left Syria when I was two years old. My father decided it was too dangerous for us in Syria , so we left for Amman, the capital of Jordan. My father organized a place for us to stay, it was a very basic place. He continued his way to Europe alone. He told me to be patient. He promised me we would soon be reunited. During all those years we sent each other pictures over phone.

I couldn’t attend school for years, it was too dangerous. My father wouldn’t allow it, he was frightened I would get kidnapped. I spent much time in my family.

I remember taking care of my little cousin, Amir. He was the doll and I was his mother. He likes to play with small cars, so do I. I liked to please him and play his games. And carry him around. I miss him.


Beginning of this year, the Luxembourgish government accepted my fathers family reunification request. Me, my mother, my grandmother and my two brothers could finally leave Amman after many long years of exile.

It was dark night when we started our trip in march. We took two planes and got lost in Paris Charles De Gaulle airport but we made it. When I saw my father at the airport,  I jumped into his arms.

I am attending a Luxembourgish school. I’m doing fine. Soon we will move in a house, a real house. Just of us.

All together.