The Most Important Thing: Syrian Refugees

A very interesting, and arresting, series of portraits on the UNHCR’s Flickr phostream.

“What would you bring with you if you had to flee your home and escape to another country? More than 750,000 Syrians have been forced to ponder this question before making the dangerous flight to neighbouring Jordan, Lebanon, Turkey or Iraq.

This is the second part of an ongoing project that asks refugees from different parts of the world, “What is the most important thing you brought from home?” The first instalment focused on refugees fleeing from Sudan to South Sudan, who openly carried pots, water containers and other objects to sustain them along the road.

By contrast, people seeking sanctuary from the conflict in Syria must typically conceal their intentions by appearing as though they are out for a family stroll or a Sunday drive as they make their way towards the border. Thus they carry little more than keys, pieces of paper, phones and bracelets – things that can be worn or concealed in pockets. Some Syrians bring a symbol of their religious faith; others clutch a reminder of home, or of happier times.”

 

Alia © UNHCR

Alia*, 24, poses for a portrait in Domiz refugee camp in the Kurdistan Region of Iraq on 15 November 2012. Alia was living with her family in Daraa, Syria, when fighting forced them to flee their home four months before this photograph was taken.

As the fighting drew closer, she recalls, “It was terrifying because I’m not able to help myself.” Confined to a wheelchair and blind in both eyes, Alia says she was terrified by what was happening around her. “At the beginning of the fighting, my family decided to stay because we thought it would be over soon. But as it went on, I was scared that they might run away and leave me at home alone.”

Although she never cared for television, Alia began to follow the news programs closely as the fighting intensified, because it helped her make sense of the things she heard, but couldn’t see, going on around her. “Men in uniforms came and killed our cow. They fought outside our house and there were many dead soldiers. I cried and cried, scared because I had to call my family even to know what was happening.”

Alia says the only important thing that she brought with her “is my soul, nothing more – nothing material.” When asked about her wheelchair, she seemed surprised, saying that she considers it an extension of her body, not an object. “I am happy. I am happy to be safe, to be here with my family,” she says.