Marwa

(Koker, 2018)

The Syrian conflict has entered its eighth year. Since the beginning of the conflict, 6.6 million Syrians are displaced internally and 5.6 million people scattered across its borders. From food insecurity to loss of educational access, lack of health services, and high-rates of gender-based violence, the consequences of the crisis have been particularly brutal for women and girls.

Women serve to sustain the resilience of families and communities, trying to keeping their families healthy, fed and together. In many cases, women have been forced to become the sole breadwinners overnight, losing husbands and fathers to the conflict.

“I feel safe here, however I have no support”.

She sat with her head in her hands, a black veil cast over her head, her 10-month-old baby girl propped up on the table in front of her playing with a wrapper. Upon entering the Saricam Public Education Centre, Aliyah Shamsi*was the only woman sitting at one of the two dozen benches in an otherwise empty, white hall.

Textile technologist Rabia Yuceer provides training in apparel and textiles at the Saricam Public Education Centre, where women are then able to acquire a job in clothing production. The Saricam refugee camp, located in Turkey’s southern city, Adana, is the biggest container camp in the region. It is home to 35,000 people from cities such as Idlib, Aleppo, Homs, Raqqa and Hama, seeking refuge after being uprooted from their homes. Rabia explains that there are women working various jobs in the camp: as teachers, nurses, greenhouse workers, and textile workers.

Aliyah is one of the workers who completed her training in textiles, forced to fend for herself and her four children after the armed conflict in Syria became a threat to those closest to her, and Aliyah and her family were living in constant fear. “We left Syria because of the bombing. Bombing, bombing. It gets to the point where you can’t endure it anymore: planes and bombing. This person’s dead, and that person’s dead.”

Aliyah stayed in Syria up until 10 months ago, constantly moving around different cities to escape the attacks. She finally decided to leave shortly after her husband was killed. “We didn’t want to. We refused to leave Syria, but it got to the point where I grabbed my children and left with a group of people. We were smuggled. The smuggler took 50 grams of gold. I only had 7 (grams) left and I exchanged it for money to use for us to look after ourselves.”

Hasnaa Halabi*, another worker in the Public Education Centre fills the room with her charming, vibrant energy accompanied by her 10-year-old daughter who follows her shyly – her piercing green eyes strikingly contrast against her white headscarf and rosy cheeks. Hasnaa moved around different camps in eastern Turkey for five years before settling in Saricam, after gathering the courage to leave their home in Aleppo a year on from her husband’s death.

“When I saw my husband and how he died, it shook me up. A bomb dropped and hit him. They brought him to me, he had just gone out to for a walk through the neighbourhood, he had not done anything wrong. I can’t explain it anymore.”, she says as tears start to fall. “They brought him to me and he was severely wounded, he didn’t even last till the evening before he passed away.” She adds in between sobs. Seeing this really caused me to be afraid, especially for my children. At the time, they were all very young.”

Hasnaa never planned on leaving, until a bomb hit her neighbourhood.

“After the death of my husband, our house had no water, no electricity and no food so what was I to do? No one wishes to be forced to leave their country. No one.”

Arriving in Turkey, a sense of disorientation and confusion flooded Hasnaa reaching the border crossing, Bab al-Salam, and spending two days on the road to the nearest camp.

“The extreme terror, the loud sound of the explosions is what caused me to make my decision to leave with my children.”, Hasnaa explains, tears once again filling her eyes. “As a woman, I felt alone – I don’t actually know how to describe it but I felt extremely unsettled and afraid to say the least.”

Despite the distressing and horrifying images that remain with Hasnaa, not only from Syria but also along the journey to Turkey, she has been working at the Public Education Centre for nine months now where she sews, cleans, and makes tea and coffee for her colleagues. “This is the first time I have ever worked in my life. It is difficult but I am getting used to it.” Women in refugee camps often depend on the men around them to provide for their families, however many women have lost their husbands and sons to the war and face challenges in finding work in addition to taking care of their children in foreign lands.

“Before, we were in Urfa. A lot of people there spoke Arabic, whereas here they only speak Turkish, so that was also an adjustment. But the people here are extremely kind and I am so grateful. Now, I try my best to learn the Turkish language so I am able to communicate a little better.” Hasnaa says.

Refugees venture to overcome obstacles when it comes to raising their children in a new environment, and for Hasnaa it is no different. “One of the biggest challenges I face as a mother and a widow is fearing for the future of my children – not having security.  Yes, we are here and safe in the camp, however my fear is having to fend and provide for my children outside the camp. It is too difficult. I won’t be able to afford to do anything.” Men often leave the camp to make an earning in the city granting households extra support, yet the women in the camp feel restricted and fear the intricacy of integration.

The past several years of armed conflict have brought death and destruction to Syria. The consequences for the Syrian women have been particularly brutal. Hasnaa identifies the repercussions of the atrocities, “we were living in dignity, and we are now humiliated.”

Aliyah attributes her patience and resilience to her faith in God, as she says “the only reason we are able to endure all of this and still be able to smile is because Allah gave us patience”. A smile spreads across her face yet fails to reach her eyes. “Every single person who left the war and fled has a story; no one left with the mind-set of settling here in Turkey. When we see another Syrian, no matter what part of Syria they are from, we feel like we are family. Our situation is a bad one. We ran from death.”

Turkey hosts the largest number of refugees in the world, having received approximately 3.5million Syrians. Access to health care, education and a small stipend are among the benefits that refugees acquire. They do not receive the many benefits that are offered in the EU, nevertheless, Turkey proves to be a better refuge for many than Europe.

“Turkey is close to home for many of us” says Haya Kassum*, a friend of the widowed women, when asked about her thoughts on a ‘better life in Europe’ for refugees fleeing the conflict. “At the time the option to go to Europe didn’t exist. We didn’t even know what Europe was, why would we go there? It made more sense to come to Turkey so when the time came to return to Syria, it would be easier. Turkey is also a Muslim country; culturally it is closer to us, we believed that we would be able to adapt easily here. The price we would have had to pay to go to Europe would have come at the expense of our religion and our values. It wasn’t an option. The fact that the quality of life is better there is true I believe, but not at such a high price. Living in an Islamic country means more to us.”

Civil society groups and local governments in Turkey are implementing promising projects directed at integrating those of refugee status. “Turkey for us has been safety. Safety from fear, safety from devastation. We died in Syria, from grief. We came here, God bless the Turks, they helped us a lot. From clothing for my children, to food, etc.”, Aliyah says, the tone of gratitude clear in her voice, however the intense expression on her face remains unchanged. Nonetheless, in order to broaden the benefits for refugees and hosts alike, a national strategy for the long term and international responsibility sharing must now be put into effect, as collective and cooperative response to the brunt of the Syrian conflict.

In the meanwhile, the widows that escaped the war considerably benefit from the opportunity to work and provide support for their families. For Aliyah, sewing not only allows her to earn money, but also alleviates psychological distress, “sometimes I come here (to the haberdashery) to cry, and to try and work”, she says as she squints. Aliyah mostly works with bead embroidery; however, the strain on her eyes is beginning to impact her productivity. In spite of this, she is determined to maintain her diligence for the future of her children. “Generally, the life of a widow is a difficult one, and even more so when that widow is in a war zone. I now have to play the role of mother, father, provider, everything.”

Jinan Abdo*’s story is different to that of her peers, “usually women have to work if they have lost their husbands, or if their husbands are ill and are unable to support their families. My situation is different; my husband is not of any help. He doesn’t support us”, her frustration apparent as the lines on her forehead deepen. She continues, “usually when people have husbands it is less of a weight on the woman’s shoulders. Not mine. I refuse to allow my son to be a man who doesn’t provide for his family. I am teaching him from now, how to work, how to be a man.”

The biggest concern dwelling on women in the camp is the lack of stability in their lives; the potential threat of evacuation from the little they possess will lead their state into imminent peril. If made to leave the camp, widowed women and orphans would be the most affected as they are the least equipped for survival outside the camps and have limited means to make ends meet. Aliyah remarks, “the most difficult thing for me as a woman is that I have nothing left. I don’t have the means to live and provide. We came here hearing from people that the camps are safe, that we would be provided for. That’s the most difficult for me, the lack of ability to do anything.”

In the face of the barriers contesting women of refugee status, a sense of hope resides in the future of their children. Hasnaa in no way wishes for her children to spend their lives in a camp. “My hope is for them to grow, to have a life like that of any other child, to have a wholesome upbringing. That’s the most important thing to me. Raising them well. I want them to make something of themselves, I don’t want them to grow and not have a good upbringing.”

Aliyah equally hopes to build a peaceful and secure future for her four children, “my only hope for my children is… Syria is gone, we have had to forget it. I just want a home and the means to secure a future for my children.” She pauses briefly as her daughter plays in her lap. “That’s all I want and all I hope for. I don’t want to be in a position where I am unable to provide for my children. You will find that this is the case with most widows.”

With little to no liability, the widows of the camp remain strong, diligent and focused. The widows of the Syrian war are determined to persevere amid the challenges they continue to face in order to strive to be the best that they can and pave the way for a stable life for their children. “Especially for my friends who are widows, I just wish there was a little extra support for them.”, voices an onlooker, woman to woman.

These women are challenging stereotypes of refugees and are pivotal examples for future generations in their communities and around the world, displaying the epitome of hope, resilience and strength for, one day, the end of the devastating conflict in Syria.

Note: The names in the story have been changed for security reasons.