It was the middle of June when I was last in Syria. I was visiting an Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camp in North East Syria called Sera Kaniye (Serikane). It was mid-day, the sun was directly on top of us. The heat was intense. I remember my mouth was constantly dry and not having any water at hand made the situation harder. It made me realise the difficulties that all these people go through for months at a time, every year, because of the high scarcity of water. What doesn’t help is that the winds have been picking up every week for the past month. Due to the overgrazing and desertification, overuse of river water and more dams being built in Turkey, the rich land of North East Syria has become a dried up desert. The sandstorms are becoming more frequent every year and getting caught in one is inevitable. That is what happened to us.

I was visiting a new section of the camp. This was my first time visiting the overfill section. The camp administration had made a poor attempt to shelter the newly arrived IDPs. They had fled conflict because the Turkish military continued their bombing operations to create a buffer zone along the whole northern border of Syria. The tents were flimsy, almost crumpling under their own weight. The wind was making anything that wasn’t fixed down flap around and crack like a ring masters whip. The dust picked up until we were only able to see a couple of meters in front of us, sand clinging to every surface, including the inside of my mouth, eyes, ears and nose. It was hard to breathe. It’s no surprise that people are having respiratory problems within Syria. I started to walk towards the car to seek shelter until my colleague called my name. We were invited to shelter in a family’s tent whilst we waited for the storm to blow over. That is where I met Ali Ahmad Aid and his family. Fortunately for us, Ali Ahmad Aid - known as Ahmad - arrived at the camp a month ago;their tent was well equipped to shelter us from the bad weather. Ahmad’s wife, Rosah, made us tea as small talk started to flow. Ahmad realised we were probably going to be with him for a while. So, he turned to me and said, “whilst we wait for the storm to blow over, I have a story to tell…”

It was the 21st of December 2021. The worst day of my life was about to take place and I had no idea it was going to happen. It was around 4:30pm, I remember it clear as day. My family and I were all at home sheltering from the cold, miserable weather that was taking place outside. My wife, Rosah, and my eldest daughter, Jury, were preparing dinner for the whole family. I was with my youngest children, Ahmad and Judy, in the living room. That is when our house got hit. I wasn’t sure if we were hit by artillery or a drone rocket. All I know is that the explosion ripped through our home like a hot knife through butter. Brick, wood, glass and metal fragments shot around the house like bullets out of a machine gun. It was impossible to protect yourself. Every single one of us got injuredby the blast. To me, the explosion lasted for a couple of minutes, everything ran in slow motion. In reality, it only lasted a couple of seconds. The only thing that ran through my head before the smoke and dust settled was if my family was ok. Everyone was screaming, not knowing what happened. One minute you are living your normal life, the next you are flung across the room covered in blood and dust.

When the explosion happened, I was hugging my two youngest children. My whole back was peppered with small puncture wounds from the flying debris. I like to think that my love and affection was the reason why my kids are alive to this day. They both didn’t come out unscathed though. Ahmad and Judy sustained injuries in their legs and arms due to shrapnel. My wife, Rosah, and my eldest daughter, Jury, had suffered more serious injuries. Rosah had shrapnel in her thigh and another piece lodged below her eye socket, narrowly missing her eye. Jury had shrapnel embedded in her liver. Because of her age, the doctors have said they are unable to remove the chunk of metal out of her, they have to wait until she has fully grown until they can extract it. The removal can cause more damage than leaving it in. Jury has to visit the hospital every 10 days for check-ups until she is able to have an operation.

I was so disorientated once the dust settled, I gathered the children with Rosah and we rushed out of the house, our faces and clothes painted with blood and dust. I knew we had to get out of the area quickly, so we ran as fast as we were able to, still unaware of who or what hit us. We fled through the fields under twilight to the next village. Thankfully, the residents heard what had happened and helped us take refuge in one of their houses. They phoned an ambulance and contacted my father about what had happened to us. I knew my dad was going to tell my mother and sister about the situation and that they were also going to rush over to our aid. They are old and needed help locating the house. I was able to walk and so I set off to locate my parents and sister.

By this time, it was completely dark, so it was difficult to follow the dirt track that led to my parents’ village. That’s when I witnessed a large explosion in front of me, only a couple hundred meters away. I ran over to see what had been hit and if anyone needed help. The area was dimly lit by the smouldering embers on the ground and the smoke had a warm orange glow to it. That was when I could see someone limping towards me, it was my father. He told me that my mother and sister had been hit. I ran towards the crater the missile left behind. I remember the taste of metal and the smell of burnt dirt and cooked meat. It was then I saw the horrors that laid in front of me. My mother and sister were in pieces and there was nothing I could do. Pumped full of adrenaline and shock, I ran back to my father. Unable to gather my thoughts and my hands shaking with disbelief I helped my father to the house that we were taking refuge in. I sat there in silence whilst chaos grew all around me. I realised I just witnessed a Turkish drone murder my beloved mother and sister.

I don’t know how long it was until the ambulance picked us up and took us to the nearest hospital for treatment. Along the way I told the paramedic that my mother and sister were killed in the field close to where we were picked up. He said that he will send another ambulance to collect the bodies. Later on that night we were all reunited at the same hospital, mourning for the loss of my mother and sister. The misery continued a couple of days later. We held a funeral for my mother and sister back at the village, but the deformation of bombs never left us alone. We had to quickly lay them both to rest due to artillery hitting close to where we were.

Because of the ever-growing conflict along the border and the possibility of Turkey invading again, I made the decision to uproot my family and live in an area that was not being disputed. We are safe now from the bombs, but once again we have to fight for our lives, trying to gather enough water and food for the week just to survive during the summer. I am unable to provide for my family now due to the injuries I have sustained. Work has been very difficult for me. I used to carry cotton, but I am unable to do any laborious work as I still have shrapnel inside me. I can’t pay for rent within the city anymore, that is why we had to move into the camp… 

 Ahmad and his family sustained many injuries from the blast. It has scarred the family not just physically but also mentally. Like many men, women and children who have suffered similar circumstances, these people still carry on with life, carrying the burden of loss and sorrow on their shoulders whilst tackling new challenges every day. I later discovered that Ahmad and his family were sent to a hospital clinic Partners Relief & Development helped extend with a new emergency ward and elevator in Derabasiyah. This is one of the reasons why we do what we do. We go beyond the lines of where large-scale NGOs are unable to reach. When we travel around the country we meet many people, like Ahmad, from other areas that have been touched by the loving and empathetic care of the Partners Relief &Development community.