BackgroundThe two quilts profiled in these pages are the product of the worst humanitarian crisis since World War 2. The embroidered squares were produced by twelve women in Jordan who were exposed to the full fury of war in Iraq, Syria and Palestine before deciding to seek refuge abroad. They brought with them memories of lost friends, destroyed homes and broken lives. This quilting project has allowed the women to describe this grim experience through embroidery, and in the process build deep friendships. The result is a powerful testament to the horror or war, but also the resilience of refugees. The quilting initiative was launched in early 2016 when The Advocacy Project formed a partnership with the Collateral Repair Project in Amman. CRP’s distinctive name is a rebuke to the fact that civilian casualties in war are often dismissed as “collateral damage,” and during several years of dedicated service CRP staff and volunteers in Amman have distributed relief supplies to thousands of refugees from conflict. The supplies include coats and fuel in the winter, fans in the summer, and food during Ramadan. CRP has also provided skills training for refugees, who are not allowed to work in the formal sector in Jordan. Several of CRP’s beneficiaries have formed a cooperative, the Hope Workshop, to produce embroidery and other handicrafts and in 2016 AP deployed an experienced Peace Fellow, Allyson Hawkins from the Fletcher School at Tufts University, to volunteer at the Workshop. We suggested that Workshop members could use embroidery to describe their journey from war and twelve responded. They formed a project team under the guidance of Shatha, who managed the Workshop at the time. Allyson described the process in her blogs, which make for a lively read. In one early blog she confessed that she felt unqualified to help, given that she did not have “an artistic bone in her body.” But the artists welcomed her advice and she was delighted to see how completely the Workshop members embraced the concept of advocacy quilting. As in past quilt projects, AP did not suggest themes – that was left to the artists. The Hope Workshop artists decided to depict the horror and violence of the Middle East wars, particularly Syria. Their squares show bombs falling on playgrounds, homes destroyed, and boats that are crowded with refugees. The fact that this is all portrayed though exquisite craftsmanship makes it more poignant. Allyson’s blogs also make it clear that the project was collaborative and brought the artists together, particularly in the earlier stages. This is another benefit from advocacy quilting. Allyson brought the squares back to the US in August 2016. They were then sent to a group of experienced quilters in Portsmouth, Rhode Island, who work within a guild (Quilters by the Sea). AP Board member Larry Ingeneri generously covered the cost of material. The quilters met at Larry’s home to decide on a design and assign the squares, and then then met regularly to produce two quilts. This was done by putting strips of fabric (known as sashing) around each bloc and attaching the blocks to backing. The two quilts were then sent to Allison Wilbur, a long-term AP partner and founder of Quilt for Change, to quilt within the squares and add more backing. Allison’s subtle patterns bring out the designs beautifully – some even seem to be floating. As in past quilt projects, the American quilters learned a great deal from working on this powerful material and we have captured some of their reactions in a short video. Ruth Sears, who led the quilting, sent a heartfelt note when it was over: “Thank you for this opportunity from my group of quilters, especially me. We were honored to find a way to highlight the beautiful work of these women. Each time we worked the conversation turned to their situation. Many thoughts and hopes of support for them.” AP and CRP will now turn to exhibiting the quilts and advancing their message. Sadly, the timing could not be more appropriate and we are offering the quilts to refugee support groups, particularly on university campuses, who are seeking to better understand what it means to be a refugee. These pages are made to help. Allyson, our Peace Fellow, wrote the profiles and took the photos. Her complete set of photos can be found on the CRP Flickr library. We have used the first names and photos of the artists with their permission. At some stage CRP and AP may offer one of these quilts for sale, and we will probably commission more embroidery from the Hope Workshop this summer. But for now our priority is to use this artwork to tell the story of what it means to be a refugee, and remind us all of the courage and skills that refugees bring to their new countries. The quilts are available to any advocate who shares our vision, particularly at universities. Contact us though the Collateral Repair Project or through AP. |
I Am a RefugeeThe women profiled on this page are refugees from brutal war in Iraq, Syria and Palestine. During the summer of 2016, they chose to tell their harrowing story through 25 embroidered squares which have been assembled into two quilts by quilters in the US and are now being exhibited in the US. On this page we present profiles of the artists. Their squares are described on the following two pages. The profiles were written by Allyson Hawkins, who served as a Peace Fellow at The Collateral Repair Project in 2016.
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“I remember the tombstones in Iraq”
Suzanne came with her family to Jordan from Baghad in June 2015. Her daughter is sick, and Suzanne wanted to get her involved in some art-related activities, which she found at the Hope Workshop. Suzanne says before she joined the Workshop she was always home alone. She wanted something to do with her time and the Workshop has allowed her to be productive and use her embroidery skills. Embroidery also helps her to express her feelings. She has made many friends at the Workshop and treasures these new friendships. Suzanne’s first piece shows her daughter in a field picking wild flowers in Iraq, something that she loved to do before the war began. But there is a plane overhead and the loud noise scared the child. She still cries when she hears the sound of planes. Suzanne lost many family members, friends, and neighbors in the war and her second square recalls her home in Iraq. When she thinks of Iraq she remembers the nearby cemetery. The tombstones loom over her idyllic house. Suzanne says that spending time with other women refugees, learning new skills, and being a member of the Hope collective gives her hope. She also wants her kids to be involved in the community and learn new skills like English, Arabic, and Math, particularly as they cannot attend school in Jordan.
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“I studied engineering in Iraq and miss my tools”
Roa’a came from Baghdad to Jordan with her father, mother, and two sisters in May of 2013. Her mother, Dhamya, was attending Hope Workshop meetings and when Roa’a heard about the embroidery project, she decided to join in. “I didn’t know how to do embroidery,” she says, “but I knew I could learn.” Roa’a says that she has always been very shy but has gained confidence working on this project. “I became a leader and now I can help other women in the group to become leaders,” she says. Roa’a’s first square shows a woman surrounded by several other figures that represent society, culture, and religion, and the different types of pressure that they place on women. Roa’a says that women are not permitted to express their true feelings. She wanted to highlight this struggle, which is particularly acute for refugees in a new country and culture. Her second square shows Roa’a thinking about her engineering tools. Roa’a was studying engineering in Iraq when her family left and she had to say goodbye to her education. She thinks about this missed opportunity a lot because she is unable to pursue a university education in Jordan. Roa’a and her family are waiting to be re-settled in Australia where she hopes to complete her engineering studies. After learning embroidery, Roa’a hopes to master crochet and get more involved at the CRP community center through training. She feels more hope for the future, and can see herself accomplishing many things. This comes from inside, but she is happy to have found an environment in the Hope Workshop that will build her confidence and teach new skills.
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“I am proud of my faith. It has supported me as a refugee”
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“We left behind death, blood and danger in Iraq”
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“I had to leave my sister behind”
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“After the bombing, I saw I was in immediate danger”
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“Some people have drowned while trying to escape”
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“We heard terrifying stories of refugees drowning and of crime”
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“I have an engineering degree but cannot use it in Jordan”
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“Childhood in Iraq is dead”
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“A piece of my heart is still in Syria”
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“It’s hard to explain what the war did to me…”
Sena arrived in Jordan in 2014, with the remaining members of her family after her only son was tortured and killed by government military forces. Sena’s husband was also snatched off the street on his way from work one day. He was also tortured and imprisoned. She remembers crying all the time after her son died, she couldn’t eat or sleep. She was afraid to go out, so she had no choice but to stay at home and wait for her husband to return. After he was released, Sena decided to leave Syria. She moved from one place to the next, but she still remembers the sounds of gunfire, bombs and seeing dead bodies on the streets, “It’s hard to explain what the war did to me, psychologically. I was in a really bad place.” Before she joined the embroidery group six months ago, Sena was unhappy and depressed. She explains that she spent most of her time at home alone with nothing to do, but since joining Hope Workshop her mental health has improved, “[..]the group supports me, it gives me psychological support. I’m happy to meet new people, but now I see a big difference.” She has also developed her technique and drawing skills. Sena is talented in embroidery and learned to stitch from her mother and grandmother. She used to embroider on clothes and scarves for people back home in Syria. She says that stitching allows her to tell her story, and she is able to pour everything she feels into it. She chose to draw a prison in Syria reflecting on the pain of losing her son. Sena also explains that her life resembles a prison, “I feel like my life is a prison because I can’t go anyway. I can’t visit my son’s grave or be with the people I love. I feel like my life is a trap. I am trapped.” Sena’s second square is a map of the world with Syria at the center. She explains that even though she has lost everything, she hopes one day that she can return to a new Syria, ‘the sun is shining on Syria. The sun is a good sign because it means that there’s still hope,” she says
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“…I can put all my sorrow and pain into the square. It’s like the pain is leaving my body.”
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“I love to challenge myself and learn new things that I haven’t tried before in Iraq.”
Salma is a Christian from the city of Qaraqosh near Mosul, Iraq. She played on the national women’s football team for three years. She also played in Germany, but returned to Iraq to get married. She was studying to become a beautician when ISIS attacked her town forcing her family to flee to avoid persecution. She lived in Irbid for a short period of time before relocating to Jordan in 2015. She is a practicing Christian and attends church in Jordan with her family. She also spends her time there learning different craft skills, which she enjoys, “I love to challenge myself and learn new things that I haven’t tried before in Iraq.” In her free time, Salma make clothes for her newborn son. She embroiders on quilts and makes traditional Iraqi clothing. When she was just a child her mother gave her a piece of fabric and told her to embroidery, “she just gave me the fabric and told me to go stitch!” She uses traditional bright colours because it makes all the beautiful details of Iraqi stitch stand out. She founds the Jordanian stitch beautiful and hard, but is determined to perfect it, “I still want to learn about to make clean lines on the back of the stitch. I still can’t do that.” If she is resettled in Canada or Australia, she wants to get her beautician certification and open her own salon.
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“I feel like I lost myself taking care my family. I cannot live the life I want.”
Fatema is from Al Quds, Palestine and has lived in Jordan for nearly 20 years as a refugee. She had a good childhood, she always played outside and just enjoyed being a child, but she is now taking care of her family because they are all sick. She never had the opportunity to go to school, “I feel like I lost myself taking care my family. I cannot live the life I want.” Fatema suffers from depression and anxiety, but joined the embroidery group to take a break from taking care of her family, and make new friends. She also takes part in different activities at CRP, such as acupuncture. Fatema had no formal training and learned the Iraqi stitch from Huda, a trainer in the embroidery group.
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…she was threatened by ISIS for being a non-practising Muslim and not wearing a headscarf.
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“…they are my family away from home.”
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“I want to be legal person [resident] and not a refugee anymore.”
Noor was born and raised in Baghdad, Iraq. She worked as a nurse in a hospital, and her husband is a doctor. She loved her job and co-workers, “When they take photos they always send me a text message saying, ‘We wish you were here, we saved a space for you in the photo.” She stayed in Iraq during the war to take care of her sick father-in-law, and left when he died. Noor’s house was burned down and she was not allowed to return to Qaraqosh, so she left Iraq with her husband, “There was not future in Iraq. It was not safe for us anymore.” She came to CRP a year ago and joined the embroidery workshop last summer. She had no idea how to embroider, but learned it from one of the other members in the group. Noor hates being labelled as a refugee, and living like one in Jordan, “I want to be legal person [resident] and not a refugee anymore.” If she is given a chance she wants to work as a nurse again, but she also wants to own her own house and wants everyone she loves all in one place.
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“In Australia, they could go to school and be free.”
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“Notice us. Let us in. If we go back to Iraq, they’ll kill us.”
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“Anywhere that we could be accepted, we would have relatives that we don’t have here”
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“We went to Aqrah, we weren’t relaxed. We went to Irbil, we weren’t relaxed. We left to Amman and it’s the same thing.”
Jenan is from Mosul. She says everyone from there has the same story. They fled from Daesh on August 6th, 2014. The first thing they did when they left was go to Aqrah, Iraq in Kurdistan. Jenan has 8 children, 5 girls and 3 boys. She recounts that the children got bored in Aqrah. They were used to going out and socializing or going to church. They eventually moved to Irbil and the family knew everyone in the community, in the churches. Jenan and her family rented a house there and waited for Daesh to leave Mosul. She went back and saw her area and it was unlivable. Daesh had sacked and destroyed homes, so they went to Amman. She feels as though she can’t relax because she isn’t at home. She elaborates, “We went to Aqrah, we weren’t relaxed. We went to Irbil, we weren’t relaxed. We left to Amman and it’s the same thing.” There is no work and the rent is very high according to Jenan. When you don’t have a job, everything seems expensive she says. Jenan pleads, “We are asking God to make this easier on us, those who left before us, and those who left after us. We hope those who want to be resettled get resettled and those who want to return can return. I just want to repeat, we weren’t at ease there and we’re not at ease here.”
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“God willing, we will get accepted.”
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Laylah hopes to resettle and continue working with children with disabilities.
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Jowhara loved teaching.
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“If I had the chance I would work…”
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“It was the scariest thing in my life.”
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“I want to live a stable and a safe life.”
Daniela: “I’m from Mosul, in Iraq. I came to Jordan with my two boys and my husband. It has been over a year. The rest of family traveled to other places, so we are all separated. We left Mosul because Isis got into the city. We faced them for a while, but they harassed us so much to the point of physical violence. We became tired in Iraq and decided to come to Jordan, it was time. There was nothing for us in Iraq. It was difficult to bear the sadness and injustice. We came to Jordan because it was safe and stable for refugees to come here. I have been here for three years. I love Jordan. If people start to talk ill about Jordan in front of me, I never accept it. But we don’t have means to make a living. Now my family wants to travel. We have been rejected multiple times. It has been hard and we are tired. I just hope my voice is able to reach people because there are no opportunities or options for us to return to Iraq. My home and the things that I used to call home in Iraq were destroyed. There is nothing to return to. I wish to live in a place that has stability, where people are apologetic and sympathetic to other people, a place where my children can go to school, and where I can build a loving home. The only thing we need help right now is to be able to travel, the rest will be up to us. We are not asking for anything else, we are asking for the opportunity to create a life for ourselves. I’m really happy I got to participate in Hope Workshop because working with embroidery gave me a hope that I didn’t have before, I had my hope renewed. I was a science teacher in Iraq, so I really love to work. I’m happy that I got to meet all the ladies and to work with the people here. For the future, I hope Iraq will be safe, that we are able to travel and that my kids are able to go to school. I want to live a stable and a safe life.”
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“God willing, I will see Baghdad again.”
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“We are all just people.”
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“My hope is that I reach my goals.”
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“The only thing I want is to arrive to a place and to have a house”
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“It has been eleven years since I saw my brother.”
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“I want to go to a place with rules. In Iraq there were no rules.”
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“My hope is that we get stability to settle down and to see my kids in the school and university”
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“My house is gone. All of my memories are gone. All of my memories of my children are gone.”
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“The United Nations has given us asylum in the US”
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“I was a secretary for a dentist, my husband had a grocery store.”
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“Before there were big houses, and now, nothing.”
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“The important thing is to be with my family.”
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“I want stability. To see a future for my daughter”
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“I wish we could gather people together, a reunification…”
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“I feel helpless.”
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Assad Brought Bombs, Not Peace: This design, by Nafiza, argues that many refugees feel betrayed by Syria’s president Bashar al-Assad who told his people that he would build peace in Syria. The square shows a dove carrying a branch. Instead of peace the dove is bringing war: bombs hang from the branch of a tree and carry the letters “TNT.”
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So Sad – Two Words Sum It All Up: The artist of this square chose to remain anonymous. Her square shows a young refugee thinking back to his time in Iraq and carries the poignant message – “So Sad!”
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The Dove of Peace Has No Place in Iraq: This design by Ikhlas shows a dove of peace that is blocked and broken by a black wall. The dove represents human rights and the wall represents the lack of humanity in Iraq. Injustice and violence prevent the dove from doing its work, says Ikhlas.
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Thinking of Home in Iraq, by an artist who wished to stay anonymous.
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We were terrified that they (ISIS) would come back for us, so we hid and didn’t leave the house, but after a few days hiding from them, they attacked us. They threatened my family and warned us that if we didn’t leave they would come back and kill us. We left because we had no choice.
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My second drawing represents a beautiful church. ISIS bombed and damaged the church. This caused me a lot of grief and pain because I loved it. It was such a beautiful church. |
This is what Syria looks like in the building with plants, flowers, and trees. I want the stability and happiness back again. This is what I hope for my children and family. |
This drawing reflects the most terrifying event that happened in during the month of Muharram in southern Iraq. It is a religious ritual where people wear black clothes for forty days. They all beat their heads and even their children until they bleed. I feared for my children so we stayed at home. |
I will never forget the day my house caught on fire. I remember dropping to my knees screaming and crying and there was nothing I could do but watch it burn to the ground.
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This drawing represents my pain and suffering in Iraq. A group of soldiers entered my house carrying weapons, and threatened my husband in front of my children. |
It reflects my town (Qaraqosh) burning–there were some many houses burning. In this drawing, I am holding my bag ready to leave with a broken heart and tears in my eyes.
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This is a portrait of someone killed by a member of ISIS. It is an image of a woman I know back in Iraq who tried to protect her son from being kidnapped and tortured from ISIS, but couldn’t.
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My first drawing represents ISIS slaying an innocent person and he thought he achieved something, and this made me feel sick and caused me a lot of pain to watch.
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This is a memory I have of Syria–the car explosion, burning buildings, and a lot of blood on the streets. It was the last memory I had before we were forced to leave. I remember the sirens, bombings, and gunfire outside my home. It still gives me nightmares thinking about it. I don’t think I can forget what I have seen.
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I drew a picture of the day ISIS attacked my hometown of Mosul in Northern Iraq. I was in the hospital at the time when a rocket killed a woman and her two children. It was this event that forced my family to flee from our town to Jordan.
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When I was forced to leave Iraq. I had to leave my daughter behind because she couldn’t come with me, and now I am afraid that I will never get the chance to see her again.
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My second story is about psychological and sexual violence women faced in Iraq, and the way men dominate and control women in our society.
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I was forced into an arranged marriage when I was only a child, and I had a miscarriage. I didn’t get a chance to go to school with other children my age. I had to work and support my family including my parents. |
This is an image of children being killed outside a school in my neighbourhood in Syria. Some of the children were killed missiles outside schools. I remember seeing blood and bodies on the ground. |
This is an image of my husband and I, we are Sabians. One day we found an ‘X’ mark on our door, which meant that we were targets for ISIS. |
It represents the events that happened to me when I was waiting for a taxi to take me to work, and suddenly another car stopped and there was a man inside. He was wearing a long black dress and had a long beard. He asked me to come with him.
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My husband and son were tortured and imprisoned in Syria, but it also expresses how I feel right now. I feel trapped because I can’t go anywhere, or do anything. I would stay at home and cry every day in the dark. |
My dream for the future is to live in a big house with my family and children playing outside without any problems.
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My image is of my family and my love for my family, and the hope that one day we can all be together to plant olive trees in Palestine.
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This is what Syria look like in the building with plants, flowers, and trees. I want the stability and happiness back again. This is what I hope for my children and family. |
This picture is Iraq ‘bleeding’ because of the bad things happening there, but I have no worries because there are two Angels always there to protect me. |
This is my church in my hometown where I grew up. I drew this church because I miss it and I want to go back and pray inside it again. |
I dream of returning to my country and getting married.
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I drew of an image of myself praying in front of the Darfash symbol because praying is the only that gives me strength and patience. |
This is drawing of my church in Iraq. I felt brave and free when I went to pray. It is the only thing I have left that no one can take away from me. |
This drawing represents ‘Virgin Mary’ and I am on my knees praying, asking her for peace in the world especially in my town (Qaraqosh) |
My second drawing is of my family in Iraq. This is a story of my kind and warm mother cooking and playing with her children surrounding her. |
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When I remember my hometown, I think about the times with my sister, shopping and enjoying our time together in the house we lived in with our family. We didn’t have much water and electricity the electricity would cut off from time to time. We bought the candles so I can teach my skills and work from home.
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My second story is about my hope and dream that a divided Iraq will be reunited one day. All of us are equal and the same. She drew the Iraqi and Kurdistan flag together to show we have one homeland.
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It’s Sabian wedding and the shaykh baptizes the bride in the river. We were wearing a traditional white dress. |
I am kneeling and praying to God to accept my prayer. |
My dream is to go back to Syria. I imagine myself standing in the middle of the airport in Damascus holding my bags and feeling a wave of emotions in my heart, like I am home and that I never left. |