When the war started in Syria, Samira was a child who saw the world as a land of goodness, which she created in games, and imagined that bad guys only appeared in fairy tales. How can a child imagine the dirty deeds, violent tendencies, traps set by men with evil spirits, and understand the world of the wicked? But, unfortunately, wars have stripped children of their innocence and burdened them with responsibilities that are too heavy for an adult to bear.
Samira witnessed the devastating effects of war and felt more helpless than ever before realizing that real life was not as clear-cut as in games. In the fairy tales her grandmother read, the winners were always the good ones, but in the concrete world, the bad guys could also gain power. As a matter of fact, in the face of the murderers who surrounded the whole world and her country, the good ones were silent and the hands of the bad ones got longer. Samira now started to build her plays on the liberation of oppressed people.
Samira had lost most of her relatives in the war, her friends, cousins, aunts and uncles had perished under the ruins of the bombed houses. When the family decided to migrate to Turkey in order to protect their two children, she was deeply saddened. It would not be easy to leave her garden where she met the sun, her home where she met with love, her toys and friends. Samira had already begun to feel the loneliness of being abroad. But the father was determined, saying that your survival is much more important.
Father Nezar gathered what he had in his hand and joined a caravan and reached Turkey by passing through the roads where dangers were rife. Nezar felt a heavy burden on his shoulders and took refuge with a relative who had come here before with his children. Samira was content to stay in the same house with a familiar family, but felt very lonely in a country where she did not speak the language. Her grandmother used to say that Turks are our brothers, but the attitudes she encountered in the neighborhood and at school hurt her a lot and made her even more lonely. She was thinking… I wonder if the people here changed after the death of her grandmother, and she was trying to understand why she was excluded.
Children have a secret language that they agree with. Samira knew this language and when she went down to the garden of the house they lived in, she felt close to the children she met and wanted to play together, but their mothers prevented this. Samira could not understand why she was not loved by mothers and was feeling guilty. If she had not faced these racist attitudes, she might have been able to overcome the problems brought by foreignness more easily, but it was not possible, the hateful glances on her innocent face were penetrating her inner world like an arrow and injuring her.
At the age of 18, Samira married a young man who came from Syria as a refugee and became a mother at an early age, and now her son Mohamad was included in her ordeal. During the pandemic, the landlord doubled the rent, her husband, who worked in clothing, was fired, and the family tried to hold on to life with the support of philanthropists who helped them. Samira was subjected to heavy insults by those who looked at her with anger, and with each blow she received, she became a little more withdrawn into solitude. How could she explain her hurt and longing to the fascists who then shouted insults and said to return to your country?
There were roads that smelled of longing, of course, Samira would like to walk in the streets where her childhood was left unfinished, visit the graves of her loved ones, join the people who speak the same language and have the same feelings as her, and continue her life here, of course, but were the opportunities suitable for this?
When Samira met those who targeted them on the street, on the street, on social media and shouted "Let the Syrians go", the conflicts between her childhood and her friends would come to life in her dreams. At that time, the children would come together and there would be a disagreement during the game, the strongest of the group would beat the others and say get out of here, and disperse all the children. However, children did not feel grudge and hatred like adults, they would come together soon and continue the game as if nothing had happened. Samira likened the attitude of people who looked at them with hatred and shouted the slogan "Let the Syrians go" at every opportunity to the situation of a mischievous child who has not yet been educated, has not matured, and has not learned how to share, and she was silent in the face of the reactions displayed. Because the mischievous child who expelled her friends from the game environment in her childhood was likely to be disciplined, but the probability of changing fascist mentalities was very low. Samira could see that.
Samira had lived through the harsh conditions of the war, but the fascist attacks she was exposed to in the country she lived in as a refugee were much more severe than that… She was afraid, if she took care of her clothes, the neighbors in the apartment would immediately point out and say, look, they live in luxury. smelled, they were said to be unscrupulous, and they were followed step by step, booed. According to the fascists, these people were Bedouins who smelt of sweat, were poor, uncultured, and had no manners, and should have gone back. To them, it didn't matter what dangers awaited these people wherever they went, it was their internal problem.
Samira was a 25-year-old young woman and she could not feel safe in our country where she left her childhood unfinished, she was afraid, she was afraid of everything, she could not keep close distance with her neighbors, she avoided eye contact with people when she went out, and when she was booed, she bowed her head and retreated into solitude like a guilty child. Semira knew that she was not loved, wanted and seen as worthless in the society she lived in, and when she was alone with herself, she asked: Why am I being punished? Samira had realized that the wicked enjoyed crushing the weak, and she knew that this could not be stopped. But thankfully, there were good people all over the world who had a little conscience, and that was the only thing that made him feel comfortable in his hometown.