By: Kiki Tzeggai
Their minds still pressing against the public latrines’ walls of a refugee camp.
They ask if there is a final passage where they would build a house, a home with an olive tree in the backyard. They crossed seas with hope to step on land. Only to be labeled refugees and sent back.
Going through the human folds of their souls battling fears, emotions, mourning the lives they saw lost. “Is there a border where humanity will look at us and discover that we are human beings?” They ask.
The hardest part of pain is living with it for a lifetime. Refugees shout in silence, muttering words amongst themselves. All in the verge of giving up.
Let’s help. For, we are all refugees.
“No one leaves home unless / home is the mouth of a shark. You only run for the border / when you see the whole city / running as well.” This evocative stanza from poet Warsan Shire’s Home hit a nerve online recently as the European public finally woke up to the reality of the refugee crisis. Explaining, in short verses, the unthinkable choices refugees must take, Shire writes: “no one puts their children in a boat / unless the water is safer than the land.”