After more than a decade of internal war – sparked by a peaceful revolution that soured into violence following brutal, heavy-handed retaliation by authoritarian President Bashar al-Assad – victims of government bombs are left to pick up the pieces of shattered lives. Many of the most gravely injured were children asleep in their beds when bombardment ripped through their homes and scorched their tiny faces and frames.
For most Syrians, who were merely trying to get by and feed their families when adversity struck, there is a painful sense that they will never see justice or accountability for what was done to them. International tribunals are notoriously arduous, bloated bureaucracies that seldom prosecute. Yet coming to America for critical surgery marks a small but significant victory against the tyrants that tore their lives apart.
Despite losing most of herself to the incomprehensible scrouge of burns that seep to the bone, Manal, an artistic and sweet fourteen-year-old undergoing numerous surgeries in California under the umbrella of an NGO I have worked closely with called the Burnt Children Relief Foundation (BCRF), viewed herself as one of the lucky ones.
“I didn’t feel anything until I woke up,” she recalled. “And then everyone told me I was burned.”
Manal wept for the children left behind – the ones who can’t access the help she has had in the United States. She scooped up tissues with the burned stumps of where her hands used to be, the tears turn to guttural sobs. Still, if given a choice to turn back the clock and not be caught in the hail of bombings that ravaged her home, Manal assured me that she would not do it.
“I’ve learned a lot. It is making me braver and made me feel other people’s pain, a feeling only people in this situation would know. I feel their pain and want to help them,” she said politely, her body stoic and erect. “This has made me more determined to achieve my goals in life. I want to be the voice for other people. I want to be a doctor to help the society.”
For a long time after that, I could not speak. If only the youth of today spent more time studying the likes of Manal of the latest reality star or Instagram influencer. But, nevertheless, if a young teen can embrace such unimaginable hardship – and believe that such torment happened for the betterment of bearing greater compassion to help others – who am I to feel sorry for myself over the comparatively trivial or look at the glass as half empty again?
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