refuge ➳

🏳️

All of that had happened decades ago, but the memories of the pain and agony of it all still has not subsided, and it never will. Now, I am in another country, far away from where I was born and bought up. I am safe, in terms of security. But I will never be safe from the nightmares that creep up on me every night, the ones which send shudders up my spine and makes my entire body throb with pain.

Losing my parents, as much as it would sound shocking, was not the only horrifying thing that had happened to me; that was only the beginning of the worst. I do not wish to recount any of them, but every now and then, the front pages of some of the newspapers are filled with terror-filled accounts and gory illustrations, reminding me that the troubles have not ceased. There are reports of murder, rape, death and insanity, accompanied with pictures of crowded bodies in tattered clothes and gaunt faces in small, over-burdened boats. Once, the front page depicted a lifeless child, not more than two, washed ashore from a capsized boat, just like the one I had once been in.

There are arguments every single day, regarding the crisis of the accommodation of this sudden influx of people, robbed of their hopes, their dreams, their lives. Some are in favour of us, others are not.

But this story, the one you are reading right now, is not just the story of my life.

It is not just the story of my family

It is not just the story of my country.

It is the story of an entire race.

The refugees.

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