My Syria has been forgotten by the world community. Do we only help those who can help us? | Opinion
Syria #Syria
This past Monday, I woke up in my stable Cranford home to news of the deadly earthquake in Turkey and Syria. I stared at my phone in disbelief. That’s all the Syrian people need.
I have been an immigrant in this country since 1984. I quickly called my family and thankfully learned they were unharmed. My sister and mother live in Damascus, six hours from the Turkish border where the damage was much worse. My sister Mimi cried as she told me the horrific details.
“Around four in the morning, the bed shook and moved back and forth hitting the wall,” she said. “I screamed and got up quickly to get our mom, but I fell. I tried to get up but fell again. Then I crawled to mom’s room. She was in bed screaming my name. I got to her and we held each other and prayed.”
My mother is 90, not mobile, and she was beyond terrified. Then I called my brother Maher who lives in Latakia, only two hours from the Turkish border. His voice was so low I could barely hear him.
“We got up out of bed and crawled out of the apartment,” he said. “People were trying to run down the stairs, but they were falling. We watched our building sway for a minute and a half like a swing.”
My sister and mother were able to stay in their apartment, but my brother and his wife had to spend all day freezing on the street. Every time they were cleared to go back inside, an aftershock would hit and they would crawl back out.
Where are you world?
The situation in Syria was already dire. The civil war ended in 2021, but ten years of fighting left half a million dead and six million refugees. Those who were spared did their best to survive. That’s what life in Syria has been like according to my family, survival.
For example, my family gets one hour of electricity per day, a half hour in the morning and another half in the evening. They sit wrapped in blankets in the freezing cold and there is no gasoline. If you need it, you must park in a long line and sleep in your car for a few days. Inflation is over one hundred percent, and a pound of meat now costs half the average monthly salary.
I grew up in Damascus under the rule of the father, Hafez Al-Assad, and I couldn’t wait to leave at the age of 18 for the United States, and freedom. Despite our many problems, life here in the US is a treat, and I mean that in all that word entails. I am grateful every day that my children grow up free and able to pursue their dreams. The people of Syria don’t have time for dreams. They are beyond damaged, beyond ravaged and beyond broken.
My purpose in this writing is to stir something in the hearts and minds of those who can make a difference. The United States and the world need to consider helping the people of Syria. They need to value life and humanity before political agendas.
Syria has been forgotten by the world community. The United States helps many countries in need like Ukraine recently and Kuwait in the early nineties. Saddam was in Kuwait only four days before the entire world kicked him out with force. Granted, Ukraine is of strategic value to America, being close to Russia, and Kuwait is a major supplier of oil.
What value does Syria present? Are its people different than the people of Ukraine and Kuwait? Looking back at the history of aid the United States doles out, one has to ask, “Do we only help those who can help us?”
I do remain grateful that my family escaped death unlike the thousands dead in my country. Please send the people of Syria and Turkey vibes of peace and love, they can sure use it. And if you’re able to help with resources, the Red Cross is a good place to start.
I spoke with my brother again this morning and thanked him for sending the videos and pictures. He said they were not allowed to go into the severely hit areas, then he hit on the heart of the matter, “Tell your newspaper, no, tell the world that we need help in Syria badly. We were already desperate and now this horrible disaster. Please do not ignore us anymore, people are dying.”
I hung up the phone and then drove to the grocery store… wiping the tears away.
Karim Shamsi-Basha may be reached at kshamsi-basha@njadvancemedia.com. Follow him on Twitter & Instagram. Find NJ.com on Facebook.
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