Omar Aziz

June 2, 2021

Refugees at home

Dear Dua and Mustaffa,

I watched your story today. I learnt about your survival. I feel inspired to hear about your bravery and how you have managed to live over the last five years. I am sorry you are a refugee and how you are having to leave for another place. I wish that someday you can call a place your home.

I am 33 years older than you and thousands of miles away. I live with my wife and two children - Sajid is 8 and Sahir is 6. We live in a concrete home. We are away in a different city in the country, not in our native town. I brought my children here to keep them away from the political unrest of my hometown. 

I have much to be grateful for. I hope someday I can meet the two of you. And my children can be your friends. I hope that someday you make friends with us, and you know that there are people reading about you, thinking of you, sending prayers in their own way. 

When your parents were planning a family, I am sure they were not expecting you to live in the world we are in today. In their absence, remember that you are not alone. That you are being seen, and heard, and understood. 

At this point, my care would not reach you. Perhaps, not even these words. But I can only hope that the world is a better place when you are older: that you are not constantly running - that your children are not brutally orphaned. It is my sincere prayer that those in positions to make a difference can see the world from where you stand - just a glimpse, for once. It would then be my hope that, at that moment, through that glance, they would realise how little the peace in this world is about power, war, nation, religion, territory- and how it is surely about love and compassion. 

In this continuum, where I think we don't really die, someday the difference will be understood. You will grow to be loving & compassionate that we seek to meet. 

Be well. Love from your extended family.