In 2015, when I started my first in London I had no idea what to expect. A terrifying doubt lingered in my mind about whether my work experience would hold up in the land of world leaders. I wasn’t confident in my accent, pronunciation, or English vocabulary. Not to mention my apprehension about the cultural shock we were raised to fear as children. All of this and more made me start my job with my head down, fully focused on…

I was born in Damascus into a Kurdish family. My father spoke Kurdish with my uncle, aunt, and grandmother, but as children, we attended Arabic schools, became fully Arabized, and forgot what we had learned from our ancestors and parents. However, my Kurdish name always made me stand out. When people asked me about its meaning, I felt a sense of confidence and belonging to my Kurdish roots, especially since my teachers admired it—its meaning was something like the light…

I was on my way home. It was a late afternoon and I decided to skip the bus. One foot after the other and I find myself weeping and looking up at the sky, for a solution, for a way out. I had moved to Germany 3 years prior, while all my family members have settled in and got legal documentation, I was the only one with a rejection and a deportation order. Going back home in of itself wasn't…

"Name similarity"—two words that terrify any Syrian in particular or any Arab in general when standing at a Syrian border control counter, whether by land, air, or sea. So many people have stood in that line, only to hear, "Please come with us," and then... no one ever knew where they ended up. Every summer, I used to travel to Damascus, excited to reunite with my circus of lunatics—my aunts, uncles, grandparents, and extended family. But the moment I arrived…

As a Syrian woman who would never have to serve in the military, I never had the fear of conscription. But I always deeply sympathized with the men who shared horror stories from the days they were forced to serve—stories from the war in Lebanon and beyond. And with the young men living in constant anxiety, dreading the day they’d be sent somewhere unknown, or worse, end up under the command of an officer with unresolved psychological issues, taking out…

The last time I went down to Damascus was in 2019. I had this feeling that I had to go see my grandmothers because maybe I wouldn’t get the chance later. I pulled myself together and went for a few days. I arrived on October 7th—people were glued to the news. What’s going on? It was the beginning of something no one had expected in Palestine. But that’s not the point. The point is, during those few days I was…

I miss the smell of jasmine. I miss it so much I wish I can share this experience with the people I love, I want to bring them to Syria and show them where I used to spend my summers. I want to go back but there’s always a fear. The fear of what will happen or if I will get stopped or or or ..