Life is precious. Many adults have lived through enough ups and downs to realize this. I am 13, and I have already learned this lesson.
I was only five years old when I left my country because of war. I don’t want you to feel bad for me at all. In fact I am living a very nice life here in Ontario. I do, however, miss a life and culture that is part of my whole being. But I want you to look upon your life and be grateful for even the smallest things.
When you hear the word “Syria,” what do you think? War? Chaos? For me, Syria represents dynamic culture, family, and connection to who I am.
Like many people in Canada, most of our family was in a web of closeness. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, all lived within an hour or so. I can remember life before the war, and it was amazing. We lived in a multi-generational home where we all felt connected. We had similar daily routines and we felt comfortable sharing all aspects of our lives. We had a strong sense of community like Listowel. We all shared the same language and culture. We felt safe to walk freely because the community felt like one big family. When Ramadan, Eid, or Eid Nowruz happened, there was a sense of connection. To this day, I remember sleeping beside my grandparents, everyone being close together and our life was so simple but so happy.
But then the war hit; homes were being destroyed, people were being taken away, and many even died. I was young and I didn’t know much, but one thing was clear: things were changing and not for the better. We were all scared.
On Nov. 11, Canadians recognize the impact of war. We often think of world wars or others Canadians have fought in. I know war firsthand. I can remember being at my grandparents’ home when I heard a bomb nearby. I was terrified because I thought it was our home that got bombed. But luckily it wasn›t. We had no choice but to learn to live during conflict.
We moved to our grandparents’, whose home was further from the areas under siege. Our health was OK, but the news of everything that was happening was really hard. We took solace that we were still happy to be together.
However, as it became more clear that the war wasn’t ending and becoming larger, members of my extended family started to move to nearby countries such as Turkey, Iraq, Lebanon and many more. We stayed for a few years, and many aspects of our lives were great. Since my village was famous for its olives and olive oil, we would go pick olives from the olive trees together. I would wait for my Dad by the doorstep to come back from work. I loved living in the village with my grandparents and parents. But soon that would change.
My grandpa from my mom’s side came back from Turkey to Syria for a visit. He knew the situation was worse, and had experienced some home by moving. He wanted his daughter and grandchildren to be safe. Initially my dad refused. He wanted to stay with his parents, as he knew they would not leave (and ultimately didn’t). But he thought about our education and our future, and he thought life would be better for us in Turkey. Even though he had to leave his family and parents behind, he agreed.
He then left with my grandpa to Turkey. I wasn’t able to see my father for a couple of months because he needed to find income and a home. Time seemed to stop as our lives were on hold. My father finally contacted us and told us we could go to Turkey to see him.
The journey
We were so excited to see my father, and start a new life where I could seek education and feel safe. We packed our bags but weren’t able to pack a lot. My mom used the last of our money to buy us new clothes. It was time to leave.
However, the hardest part of my journey was upon us. To this day I still remember having to say goodbye to my grandparents. I cried the day before knowing what was about to happen. I remember being in the van about to leave as others were leaving with us. I looked through the window, and I waved goodbye. This was the last time I have seen my grandparents in person.
While this was sad, I was overjoyed to see my father again and make new memories and go to school. We left to the border and we were dropped off with many other people. My brother and I were so delighted to see my father again but soon that happiness would be gone.
We were running from excitement but then my mother said, “Calm down and walk slowly. They planted bombs in the ground and you might step on one.” Can you imagine a five year old knowing what a bomb is? My brother and I froze in our spots, waiting for my mother so we could walk with her. A Turkish soldier came upon us, took us to the border, and held us captive. We sat in the sun without water. The soldier disappeared. Maybe his shift has ended. Either way, luck was on our side. Another told us to get up and run to the Turkish side and there, a van was waiting for us.
After hours and hours of waiting, a soldier came up to us and he told us that there was a truck waiting for us and he told us to run, so we went as fast as we could. When I look back, I realize he likely saved our lives. We finally got to the truck and we got on and drove away. We finally got to Turkey but we were a far way away from my father.
We were picked up by my uncle, and we stayed in his home for about two days. We kept on going from uncle to uncle for about a week. We were finally put on a bus and left for Istanbul where my father was. I was finally able to see my father after four months. I don’t remember much about the moment. We had just gotten off the bus when my mom’s brother picked us up and took us to my dad. I cried and ran at him. I was overjoyed to finally see him.
Life in Turkey
Life in Turkey wasn’t as simple as we thought it would be. My uncle lived with us until he left for Sweden. During this time, my Dad had a hard time finding a job and when he did, he wasn’t making enough. So my mother also had to work, which was challenging because she needed to work part-time as we didn’t have anyone to take care of my brother and I. We moved in with my aunt and her family. There were eight of us in a two-bedroom apartment.
During this time, things were tense. We were in a new country with a different culture and language. While we were away from war, we didn’t always feel safe. This impacted so much of our life. For example, my Dad came home early one day and knocked on the door without telling us it was him. My brother and I were home alone and I knew it was my father, so I opened the door without asking who it was. I later got in trouble for that because he wanted us to be prepared if it were a kidnapper or someone else unsafe. We always were on guard.
Some of the people in our neighbourhood hated us because we were from Syria. My grandparents’ house was only two blocks away from us. There was one time my Dad left to go to my grandparents’ house. He then called my mom and told her he would be waiting for me and my brother at the first block and said we could walk there. We left our house and there was a group of teenage guys gathered around me and my brother. They were trying to beat us up. There were only two ways to run away, so I talked to my brother in Kurdish and told him to run the other way. We split up and went to a convenience store where the owner told the teenagers to leave.
We lived in the same home for two years until my grandpa told my father he could sign up to go somewhere better than our situation in Turkey. He signed up and we got accepted for a meeting.
The meeting was just us sitting in a room with the agent and telling him about us and our life. He later said he would call my Dad if we got accepted. A couple months later, my father got a call telling us that we got accepted to go to Canada and that we were to go to a hotel in a couple of days. I hadn’t even heard of the place.
A few months went by and we could move to Canada. We left our furniture with my aunt, and took two suitcases each. We had to leave some things behind. Every time we have moved, I have had to leave something behind. I still miss my doll, but what I miss most is my grandparents. When we left the hotel for the airport, that was the last time I saw them. That was six years ago.
Canada
Coming to Canada on the plane was easy because I slept the whole time. We arrived with anticipation. My Dad was the first in line to get our stuff checked and let out of the airport. However, when my Dad told them we were to go to Listowel, they didn’t believe my father and told him to go sit down. We stayed in that airport until midnight, during that time I slept on a chair with my Dad’s coat warming me.
Finally, someone asked my Dad if he was Muhammed, and he said yes. They said there was a group of around 40 people waiting for you and your family. We finally left the airport and the moment we went to get our luggage there were 40 people waiting for us – kids, adults and teens, everyone was waiting for us. I was surprised at how friendly and welcoming they were. I was also shy and nervous.
Life now
When we arrived in Listowel, a committee had arranged for a place for us to live. I started school five days after we arrived. I was excited to be able to go to school. It was my first time in school.
Our family now consists of my parents, two brothers and one sister. We like living in Canada and I love going to school. We have found a routine and rhythm to our life in Canada. We still miss our family, although my aunt’s family lives in Kitchener, and I do have a longing to return to my hometown where everyone there has the same culture and religion. It’s a mix of the joy we have in our lives now mixed with all we have given up.
After reading this, I hope you don’t feel bad for me. I am living a good life. But I want you to look upon your life and be grateful for even the smallest things.
You never know when change is going to happen.
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Hanife Ajjo is a student at North Perth Westfield Elementary School.
