“I Have Simple Dreams”

“My name is Reem. I live in a small town in Eastern Ghouta. I’m 18 years old. I was unable to finish my education and I only got as far as sixth grade.

“Our family is made up of our father and mother, three girls and five boys.

“My father was a farmer before the revolution, renting land that he farmed. The whole family used to help him, but he gave us nothing in return. We helped in exchange for food, drink and a roof over our heads, but he spent very little on the family because he is stingy by nature.”

Reem’s demeanour changes when she talks about her mother. A warm smile reflects her affection.

“I love my mother with all my heart. She’s the one who actually spent money on our household, thanks to her work in the fields and her job cleaning houses. My mother is extremely affectionate, although I used to provoke her terribly. She would get a little angry but then quickly calm down. Maybe she knew adolescence made us prone to these changes.

“My father was very harsh and quick to anger. He hit everyone, including my mother, who endured a great deal in silence. But then her patience began to wear out, and she started answering back, which led him to leave us. He was gone for four months. During that time my mother used up all her energy and became exhausted, because at 64 she is no longer young.”

Reem lapses into silence for a little while, and then starts talking about the rest of her family.

“Mohammad was martyred at the age of 22. He was killed in Sheba, a real front line zone where battles raged between the Free Syrian Army and regime forces. He had only been married two months, and we thank God that he didn’t leave an orphaned child behind.

“Another brother, Ahmad, went to the front but he didn’t have the money to buy weapons. He would stand for hours waiting to borrow a weapon from another fighter, and when his shift ended he would hand it back. Ahmad has no particular affiliation to any one military group. Ghouta is surrounded and besieged on all sides, and unemployment pushes young men into fighting even if they are not committed to a specific faction. Ahmad gives my mother his entire monthly wage of 12,000 pounds [64 US dollars].”

Two other brothers, aged 27 and 28, are working in agriculture and earn barely enough to survive on. Each one makes 600 pounds a month toiling from sunrise to sunset. Her fifth brother is married, but Reem thinks he is totally irresponsible towards his large family.

“Since as far back as I can remember, I haven’t had any friends. Maybe it’s because of our financial circumstances. Everyone kept their distance, even though I’m kind and friendly.

“Two years ago, I had to take over my mother’s job cleaning houses because the cost of living was rising constantly and we barely had enough to eat. I left school because I felt ignored. I was having a lot of trouble with my schoolwork and there was no one to help me.

“I have very simple dreams – to get married and have a stable family. I don’t care about wealth. The most important thing is that my husband treats me with respect and provides me with enough food so I don’t go hungry.

“After my father had been away from home for four months, my brother went to ask him to come back, just so that we could have a father’s presence in the house.

“My father doesn’t care that I work as a cleaner. He doesn’t care about anything. All he’s interested in his cup of tea sweetened with sugar – it has to be real sugar, because here in Ghouta we have alternatives like saccharine. He brews up tiny amounts and no one else in the family is allowed to have any.

“My mother’s personality has changed since he came back. She is no longer the peaceful woman she was; she has become rebellious and refuses to remain silent in the face of his brutish behaviour.

“My father is a stingy, terrible person. He was like that before the revolution, and things have only got worse after it.

“Damn them and their revolution. I swear our lives were better before.”