In a hellish flash , the heart of our city was crumbled into a thousand pieces , the city we were nurtured in , was now scattered amongst us, near us and even on top of us . Earlier a child had once walked these very streets … a sacred gift from god , once innocence and beauty but now there was only blood 🩸. It felt as though all that was good in the universe was crying out in pain .

It wasn’t like this before , my mind strikes me now and again of the sore memory ,of how exquisite the city we once called home was . The alluring buildings , the jagged and achingly familiar skyline that spread further than my imagination , and the plethora of stars that scattered across the moon-lit sky . This was the home I longed for . My heart aches for it to return this way .

I remember my friends , how we played together outside , kicking the ancient and quite ruptured football we had , whilst the crisp and fresh air brushed against our bare skin . I remember the excitement and laughter we had exchanged between us. We were once kids with hope … now we are kids who are traumatised . I recall the times I had to walk past dead corpses, even babies who were heartlessly decapitated , i had to covered my eyes it was to excessive and bloodcurdling to handle , yet it wasn’t much help , it only shielded me of the reality in front of me , but my imagination made up for it … a cold chill runs down my spine at the thought. When I see a plane in the sky , my heart can’t help but to begin beating rapidly .

I remember the day the air strikes began . So many miles away from me yet I felt the vibration under my feet , the fight that our land was putting up against this wickedness … my mother , how she grabbed me and my siblings in her arm , and held onto us so tightly i thought my lungs would collapse . How she blinked back the tears that were desperately trying to escape . All she wanted was for her children to be safe … and that she did , she fought to keep us safe, until the very last breath she drew on this earth .

The war didn’t just bring death , it tortured us at a leisurely pace along with it .We were forced into starvation , and we were stripped of basic humanity . I remember how my baby brother got so weak . Our mother tried her utmost best to ration the limited food we had between us . But it wasn’t enough . Months past and he got smaller, weaker and more vulnerable by the second , his ribs and spine began to show and pressed against his fragile skin. It pained me to see him like that . But soon his pain ended … he passed away , yet I still have to remind myself that he is finally at peace to stop myself from falling into a depressed state, and that perhaps we shall be reunited once again someday .

I will never understand and comprehend such events that unfolded before me , but how could a child possibly understand what was going on . I wanted to know why they did this to us . We were humans , people with a family , with friends , with a life , and people who wanted a future . Why did they have to strip us of what we had ? Why did they see us as targets ? They took away the people I loved , every time leaving me with a empty void in my heart bigger than that left by the air strikes .

So many western countries have come to visits us , record us , interview us . Yet none aid us . To them we are simply objects that are to be documented . False Compassion was given to us, by the people who watched . So little had donated , So many had turned a blind eye. To them perhaps it was just another tragedy , but this ‘tragedy’ it was my life . It was my home .

I pray to god everyday that this will end and my people will be left in peace . My prayers are still not answered but I will remain to have hope .

Help us …

I need you …

We need you …

– Sairah

( a tribute to Yemen, Syria, Afghanistan, South Sudan, Nigeria and many other countries facing indecency ,and war at the hands of other hellish beings)

1 thought on “WAR CHILD

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