On a calm sunny day in Syria, a new born baby opens his eyes. Gazing into the mystery that is a hospital room with strange eyes staring back at him, he lets out his first cry with a wailing effort. His mother comforts him with the warmth of her soul. A tear drips from her eye while she smiles fighting back the joyful frown that’s soon to unfold. The family gathers around, hands locked, and spirits high, greeting the new member to their loving family. The newborn calms and peers back at the crowd inquisitively. “We’ll name him Mohammad.”, the mom proclaimed in her own language.
Eight years later…
Mohammed is out with his dad at the market picking up groceries for the family. Its a cloudy day but the crowd of hungry faces retain peace and harmony in their eyes. Their is a sense of serenity in the air. He says to his dad, “I love you papa!” as he grips his soccer ball in one hand and his favorite teddy bear in the other. His dad shoots back a fleeting smile, kneels down, and picks Mohammad up. “I love you too son!”, he says back to him. “Now lets get back home, the family will be waiting on us for their next meal.” His dad puts him down gently and begins to gather the groceries he’s purchased with the little amount of money he had left from last weeks work when all of a sudden a whistling is heard faintly in the sky that grows nearer by the millisecond. With fear in his eyes he empty’s his hands instantly, snags Mohammad and dives for cover. The crowd goes into a panicking frenzy. Mohammad begins to cry not knowing the terror that is about to unfold. A sonic boom bursts windows and an explosion is soon followed in the distance. Fires blaze from the direction of their home. Dad quickly gets himself and crying Mohammad to their feet and asks him if he’s OK. Mohammad looks up and confirms while weeping uncontrollably, fear engulfs his eyes as he’s desperately clutching to his dads waist. “OK son, we must go, now!”, his dad claims anxiously. With adrenaline pumping vigorously through his veins, he again picks up Mohammad, and runs like he has never before towards his home. He is preying out loud that it is not his family that was under attack. He makes it to his block and immediately is stricken with what is before him. Destruction. A three block radius, theirs included, is decimated. He falls to his knees..
Mohammad and his father flee the city with a surging amount of civilians trampling the streets. They make the escape and are only about a mile away when war planes fly over their heads followed by more explosions. Fire engulfs their home town. The crowd stops running and looks back. A woman screams as others try to calm her, and a few men yell out in anger holding their fists up at the war planes as they disappear in the distance.
Mohammad and his father were amongst a few of the cities civilians to narrowly escape certain death. They were lucky enough to have been given word of a refugee camp within a few miles of where they were. Him and his dad begin the journey. Mohammad, weeping along the way, is held by his father, while his teddy bear dangles from his arms.
While in the camp they caught word from another refugee that the attack was targeted at terrorists stationed nearby their home. Mohammad’s father distastefully shouts out proclaiming his dissidence. He then breaks down in tears. Their family has passed in the name of terror, they are left with no home, little to no food, and no money. Revenge besets his eyes. Mohammad is confused and overtaken with grief. He’s not yet had the chance to go to school and learn. He’s lost all he knows of love, that is, his family. Anger is beginning to churn in his youthful brain as he overhears what has become of his home and family.
A few weeks later, a small black truck with a machine gun mounted in the back and a man with his face covered at its reigns pulls up to the camp and approaches the group. A crowd of young, angry men and boys gather around in curiosity. The men from the truck jump out, fully armed, and begin to ask the crowd what had happened back in their town. The armed men already knew, but were eager to feed the anger and fear residing in the crowds eyes. The crowd spills the beans. One man from the truck then begins to say in their language, “Your angry, we know. As we were when our families were lost and homes destroyed. We’ve come here today to make you an offer. We have a large amount of rations and water. We have a secure hideout, and a warm place to rest. All that we ask of you, is a hand in revenge. We will train and care for you like that of our own, you will be family. We have an immense amount of arms and ammo coming to us on a regular basis, and war vehicles to help the battle. What do you say?”
With little to no knowledge of what’s going on here in the west, lost, angry, hungry and cold. Mohammed, his father, and the large group of men and boys agreed to join in the fight for their families and “freedom”. They were starving and had nowhere to go to and so viciously wanted revenge for what the west had done to their families. After all, war had been going on around their homes and in near countries for thousands of years now. They had known nothing but the hurt that it brought to them. Now, it had become personal.
Hope resides in Empathy
Now this is only a fictional story, but it is not far off of what some Refugees of war torn homes go through before joining forces with terror groups. They have faced the most gruesome of fates that reality can behold. They lost their families, their homes, are hungry, thirsty, and have nowhere to go. Most of these individuals have not been taught empathy or given the opportunity of having proper psychiatric help to heal their traumatic wounds. The only thing they know, is they want to be cared for, and want to seek revenge.
Being an empath myself. Its easy for me to see why these people may be acting out of fear, hate, and mere desperation. They’ve lost all they loved, and are given an opportunity at retribution. Open arms are offered and giving them a sense of belonging. Now, I do not condone revenge in anyway. Nor do I condone any of the actions terrorists have carried out among our countries. But, when I look at a terrorist I see that young innocent infant that was born in to this world the same way you and I were. I see a victim of circumstance aiming his gun in anger from what he knows as retribution. I see a child playing in the park as mine does, joyfully and full of positive energy. But, most of all, I see a human being, suffering, and longing for his family to return.
There’s a gruesome war going on in this world. It is fueled by hate and driven by media. We are being pinned against one another in the name of corporate gain. Peace is not in the equation as it is advertised. Instead, this war that a lot of people are supporting is perpetuating the very problem they wish to eradicate. Therefore it is supporting the hidden agenda in lining the pockets of the 0.1%. The longer this war continues, the more terror and terrorists will arrive, the bigger the involved corporations will grow, and the more the innocent people will be oppressed and looked at as the enemy.
It saddens me to see the state of global affairs. I want nothing more then for the globe to all see each other as one, as brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers. I dream of a world that thrives together in unity. I do not have the answers, I do not know how to solve this evolving problem that has been going on for hundreds of years. But, what I do know, is that violence is not the answer. Fire does not put out fire. We can not continue on the path that we are going and expect new results. The oppressors have got us in a strangle hold and it will take a global awakening in order to overcome this tragedy. This blog is an attempt to do my part in the awakening. It is a desperate attempt in reviving the souls of the masses and strike deep thought into the issue so that others may think twice before supporting this perpetual war. I beg of everyone, to consider starting with Love. Don’t feed the bear, don’t poke the bear. Be the peace that you want, spread love in any way you can to all colors. If someone speaks to you in anger, reply with love, or walk away. If they spit in your face after you do them a good deed. Swallow your tongue and offer solace. It is those that are angry and living in fear that need love the most. If we want peace, we’ve got to be peace! Thank you for reading.