.

When entering the home of Sama (37) in Zaatari refugee camp, Jordan, it is hard to believe one enters a steel framed prefab. Wooden shelves and a small table are artistically wrapped in blanket material to make them soft and appealing for the younger children in the family. Remnants of a scarf are fastened to the edges of the shelves—the cozy atmosphere inside the living quarters defies the bleak reality outside. Her neighbour, a talented calligraphist, painted the prefab next door with a colorful mural of lush landscapes, adding art, beauty, and dignity to a harsh life in a desert camp.

I fled from Dera, Syria, to Jordan two years ago with my husband, Ibrahim, and our five children. Upon arrival in Zaatari, I imposed strict rules on my children’s movements in the camp. I did not want the children to wander aimlessly and lose the discipline we taught them back in Syria. My husband and I highly value education and I wanted to maintain their academic standard by complementing their lessons in the camp’s school with home-schooling.

In Syria I stayed home with the children, my husband earned enough as an accountant. Here in Zaatari we need to make ends meet in any way we can. I am very grateful for my job as a volunteer for a humanitarian organization. My small incentive means the world to me. Originally my husband resisted looking for a job since we were expecting to return to Syria soon. Now he applied for a job as a guard at the school.

My 12-year-old daughter, Zeinab, enjoys attending school, going to the tented mosque, and helping me with housekeeping chores. We created a little garden outside our caravan. Eking out a meagre existence from the sandy ground helps to ensure good nutrition and provides a sense of home. Zeinab delights in watering the sprouting green of onions, radishes, arugula, coriander, and water cress. She is an ambitious student, loves to recite poetry, and thoroughly enjoys making dresses for her Barbie doll like all girls her age.

It is my 15-year-old son, Mohamed, who I worry about the most. He witnessed the death of his favorite uncle and severe violence in Dera. Depression set in when we arrived in Zaatari. Although he feels safe in the camp, his experiences haunt him and he remains homesick for Syria. Mohamed refuses to attend school and only comes alive when watching a Real Madrid football game. His inner light went out.

Sama's testimony was taken by Frauke Riller/UNHCR/2014. Read more stories on stories.unhcr.org.

Photos: UNHCR/J.Kohler/2014

Share your refugee story on Twitter to @diplocourier, #WorldRefugeeDay.

The views presented in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the views of any other organization.

a global affairs media network

www.diplomaticourier.com

Jordan: Sama’s Story

|
June 19, 2014

When entering the home of Sama (37) in Zaatari refugee camp, Jordan, it is hard to believe one enters a steel framed prefab. Wooden shelves and a small table are artistically wrapped in blanket material to make them soft and appealing for the younger children in the family. Remnants of a scarf are fastened to the edges of the shelves—the cozy atmosphere inside the living quarters defies the bleak reality outside. Her neighbour, a talented calligraphist, painted the prefab next door with a colorful mural of lush landscapes, adding art, beauty, and dignity to a harsh life in a desert camp.

I fled from Dera, Syria, to Jordan two years ago with my husband, Ibrahim, and our five children. Upon arrival in Zaatari, I imposed strict rules on my children’s movements in the camp. I did not want the children to wander aimlessly and lose the discipline we taught them back in Syria. My husband and I highly value education and I wanted to maintain their academic standard by complementing their lessons in the camp’s school with home-schooling.

In Syria I stayed home with the children, my husband earned enough as an accountant. Here in Zaatari we need to make ends meet in any way we can. I am very grateful for my job as a volunteer for a humanitarian organization. My small incentive means the world to me. Originally my husband resisted looking for a job since we were expecting to return to Syria soon. Now he applied for a job as a guard at the school.

My 12-year-old daughter, Zeinab, enjoys attending school, going to the tented mosque, and helping me with housekeeping chores. We created a little garden outside our caravan. Eking out a meagre existence from the sandy ground helps to ensure good nutrition and provides a sense of home. Zeinab delights in watering the sprouting green of onions, radishes, arugula, coriander, and water cress. She is an ambitious student, loves to recite poetry, and thoroughly enjoys making dresses for her Barbie doll like all girls her age.

It is my 15-year-old son, Mohamed, who I worry about the most. He witnessed the death of his favorite uncle and severe violence in Dera. Depression set in when we arrived in Zaatari. Although he feels safe in the camp, his experiences haunt him and he remains homesick for Syria. Mohamed refuses to attend school and only comes alive when watching a Real Madrid football game. His inner light went out.

Sama's testimony was taken by Frauke Riller/UNHCR/2014. Read more stories on stories.unhcr.org.

Photos: UNHCR/J.Kohler/2014

Share your refugee story on Twitter to @diplocourier, #WorldRefugeeDay.

The views presented in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the views of any other organization.