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Muna's journey


I remember Abbas, the old story teller,
and the Turkish delight he prepared in his cellar.
I remember the cab drivers night after night,
waiting for their clients, they'd put the world to rights.
I remember Sundays at my friend Salma's house,
we had tea and biscuits and watched Mickey Mouse.
I remember the afternoons week after week,
on the streets of the market we played hide and seek.
I remember the smells, the lights and the shadows
and all the different colours I could see from my window.
And my father would always say: "Enjoy yourself every day"

One day my old friend Abbas, was suddenly gone,
we waited for a long time but he never came home.
Every day that passed less cabs waited in the sun:
There were no more tourists at Bab al-Salaam.
We didn't go to school because they shut it down,
our teacher was scared, there was no one around.
We started hearing explosions, I couldn't play outside,
my mother whispered songs while holding me tight.
My dear market was gone, there was a hole instead,
we couldn't find any food, just a bit of bread.

And my father would always say: "Try to keep sadness away"
On a frozen day we boarded a train, leaving our past on platform number 8.
I will never forget the words my father said looking at the horizon:
"Remember these streets that have seen you grow up,
it's people, it's trees, and every single dawn.
Remember this landscape, take my advice:
We're starting a journey to a better life.
Every year winter hides and springtime arrives.
Dear Muna, you will know soon: We all sleep under the same moon"

I remember my dear old grandma, I miss her very much,
she must be taking good care of our home, "In sha' Allah".

 










 
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