The most striking thing about visiting the refugee camps is always the unmistakable bright spark of hope that lives in the children. Despite all the hardship and unbearable living circumstances, they find the ability to play, laugh and be children.
How fair is it that someone’s whole life experience and story can be diminished to one word: ‘refugee’ ?
أحبك “I love you”
Reem is 9 years old. She is a Syrian refugee living in a camp in North Lebanon. I learned today that she lost both her parents in the recent conflicts. The only message written on her hand is : I love you
The Chukudu, found mostly in the streets of Goma, is what people, mostly children use to transport hundreds of kilos from place to place.
It is amazing to see them moving so fast around the crowded streets.
They came with the thousands and thousands of refugees that used to cross the border from Rwanda to Goma in RDC.
Now, the Chukudu is a kind of a staple in Goma, and is the first thing you notice driving down the streets and the busy markets.
Children at the “Centre Nutritionnel Therapeutique” in Goma, arrive in a state of malnutrition and illness to receive basic nutrients and medical attention. That helps them get rehabilitated to be able to move on with their journey. Most are part of the thousands of refugees that come through the area or are affected children from Goma and surroundings.
They looked more like old men to me than children, old men who have seen too much. They may be missing the grey hair and the wrinkles, but they eyes tell their story very clearly. It is very difficult to look at them without examining my values, life on this planet and the state of affairs of the human race…
It would be much easier to look away when you see photos like these, and many of us do. I feel so grateful for the existence of people who do do something about this and who dedicate their time and efforts to bring help where it is needed. May there be more of them and less of these children.