Turning Point !

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The days pass, but I think, all of us know these graceful, gorgeous days are short-lived. On the other hand, the awful, dreadful days are so long. Similar to the storming day!

A few weeks before that day, my mom born my sister. The sister that I dreamed of, The sister that I wanted to tell her everything about me, the sister that I wanted to share everything with her, she’ll be my friend, we’ll play together and sleep together. My life would begin with the birth of sister. Eventually this sister came, but she came in the wrong time, time of death. Despite those circumstance we were cheerful for this new life that came to our house. Unfortunately these gorgeous day was short-lived.

12-5-2011 was the storming, I call it storming day because it was like storm, it was gloomy deadly day.

Hundred of army troops stormed Daraa, with tanks and different kinds of weapons. Initially we didn’t know anything, we just heard a sounds of shooting. But later on, they began searching the houses for the men who involved in the protests. Moreover they were stealing money, gold, jewelry and every valuable things. Also they were burning cars and motorcycles, because they think these materials help the protesters to escape from them.

It was horrible day, in my house we got ready. First we open the door for them because if it was closed they’ll break it down. Second me and my mom wore long black clothes for lack their attention to avoid raping. Then we hid my father motorcycle under so many blankets. Finally we hid under the stairs of our home, so we’re not killed in a random bullet.

How much is it hard to sit and wait for your death, even you’re unable to protect yourself or your family! How much is it difficult and painful to hear your neighbor screaming and you cannot do anything other than crying! How deadly is it a moment to hear a dog bark because of beating him mercilessly!

Finally! a sound coming from the door side. Someone was saying ” Peace, mercy and blessing of god”, this is how Muslims greet each other and we use it to make the other side comfortable and reassure. Consequently my mother went out the stairs to¬†adjoining them so they don’t flip the house upside down searching for things we already hide it. They were two guys with arms and small bombs and so many of them out surrounding the house. One of them looked under the stairs and he saw me holding my little sister and my brothers beside me, so he told us to come out, we just did what he’s asking for, even no other choice for us to do. He looked so deeply for us and his eyes were filled by tears!

WOW! The goodness of people won’t end, his eyes so honest, he hates violence, he hates injustice, he hate what he’s doing! Maybe he’s constrained to do that. That what I was thinking of.

Suddenly! while he was pertending searching his friend called him “hey there’s motorcycle” . They wanted to burn it. If they burn it, so they’ve burned my father’s feet. We tried to give them appeasement ( money ), but they refused. They took it out and destroy it first by hammer and then sprayed with gasoline and turn the fire on it . It was bitterness moment. This day is the longest day of my life, I’ll never forget it. Because of my great loss. I lost my hair :( It was the worst thing.

Every girl admire her hair, I had an alluring black hair like the darkness of the sky after the midnight and it was so long. I lost my hair because of the fear, the fear was about to kill me. I believed that the fear could kill us in several ways. For that reason we shouldn’t be afraid of anything. We are in Syria, where there’s no cure for simple diseases, therefore, my mother used herbs to grow my hair again, but it was growing slowly and that was killing me in every single minute in my life.

The awful stuff kept going in my life, in every Syrian life, until a transitional phase happened … Not only to me, but to the most of Syrians.

4 Comments

  • Love your story it’s a little long but I enjoyed reading it , the little details made me feel like I was there and the story is really sad but I love how you described your life and other people’s life and your country keep up with the writing your post are really nice.

  • Sajeda, every post that you publish, you make me know more about what happened in Syria, and keep going. Be a kid, and live in Syria, is the worst thing, and I can say it, because of you. Because you share all the things that you have gone trough. I think that there is more things that you need to share, and more people can know what happen. And lost your hair is the worst thing ever. And one thing more, in your last post, you talk about you came a cancer patient, but without cancer. Did you refer to this? To lost your hair, I think that is that.
    I hope that you have more to share, I love know about what happen in other countries.

  • My heart breaks for you and all those living in Syria and other war torn areas. Thank you for sharing your life with us so we can better understand what is happening.

  • Oh, Sajeda, I can’t begin to imagine how terrified you must have been as you hid with those awful noises all around you. I can’t even stand how you said that you and your mom put on black clothes to try to avoid being raped. It was beautiful when you described how the one man looked at you and your siblings with some compassion, but that moment of hope just made the part where they burned your motorcycle even worse! The contrast of how much you loved your beautiful hair with the pain of losing it from your grief was incredibly moving.

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