Issues Under Fire: Getting to Know A Syrian Refugee
As dramatic events play out on the streets of central Paris and beyond, endless uneventful days drag on without notice in Syrian refugee camps. Sprinkled among the few pockets of humanity left in the region, the camps literally litter the landscapes of Turkey, Jordan and Lebanon providing just enough food and shelter to disguise one hopelessly demeaning day from another. And refugee families past their time inventing ways to survive those endless hopelessly demeaning days.
Cut off from the world, a once proud educated and independent people have been reduced to squalor and handouts. With no control over their fate, refugees live in limbo while the world wonders what to do with them. If you dare to understand what its like to be responsible for a family of four living such an existence, I invite you to spend some time in the world of Mahdi.
Mahdi is a 42 old electrical engineer with a degree in philosophy and aspirations to see the world, especially America. When Syria's peaceful protest of 2011 devolved into an all out civil war by 2012, Mahdi scolded himself to no end for not seeing the end of his country before it was too late. Like many others, Mahdi was convinced the worst would pass and Syrians would come to their senses, a deal would be struck, a ceasefire would be reached and reconciliation would lead to rebuilding the nation.
Mahdi is a strong man, but Mahdi is no fighter. When asked to take up arms and pick a side, Mahdi was conflicted. It was neighbor against neighbor. It was families against families. And it quickly became every man for himself. Mahdi had only one loyalty and that was to his wife and children. The night his father Mohammed was killed by a sniper in Homs, Mahdi told Fatima, his wife of 17 years to awaken 14 year old Hassan and 7 year old Amira and prep them for travel. It was late, the kids were tired and Mahdi was scared.
They drove into the hot desert night with a few other families desperate enough to risk running into government forces checking for insurgents or worse, enterprising gangsters taking advantage of the chaos. Armed with light weapons and provisions for a week, maybe nine days if properly rationed, Madhi and his family made it to one of the last U.N.H.C.R. transit shelters brave enough to remain before ISIS became a household word.
Once processed and placed on a list of refugees, Mahdi and his family felt an uneasy relief. They were transported by a caravan of trucks until they reached an encampment well within Jordan's border. The first few nights weren't so bad, but when their own food and water supplies ran out and they were now dependent on what the camp could provide, Mahdi and his wife Fatima began to worry and wonder how long they'd be trapped there.
It was 2013 when Mahdi's daughter Amira, now nine became ill. Kidney problems was the diagnosis. Dialysis treatments are not only expensive in a war zone, but they are non-existent in a war zone. Amira never saw her 10th birthday. Mahdi, Fatima and Hassan were devastated. No matter what happens going forward, Mahdi and his family would never be the same.
Bottom line: After two years in the camp and the death of Amira, Mahdi could no longer promise Fatima everything would be okay someday. Mahdi could no longer face Hassan without seeing the reflection of his failures in the young man's eyes. Mahdi now realized, he may never be able to do what every man must do. As a Syrian refugee, Mahdi knew he couldn't feed or protect his family and he knew his son Hassan knew it too. Podcast below!

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