It was his eyes that got me. And his eyelashes. One of the most gorgeous little boys I have ever met. With a smile that lit up the room. And a cheekiness about him that I knew we wouldn’t see today but I wanted to know more about. Ahmed, on the right in the above picture, is 14 and a keen footballer. Back in Syria he used
I wasn’t sure what to expect during our day at the Azraq refugee camp, 80Km from the Syria border. I have so much I want to say, so much to process and share. I wanted to get this out though as we have just half an hour before dinner. The white shelters are iconic now. They are the picture you see when the media talks about the camp. There
This is a post about friendship. I need to process the things we have seen today, and think about the people we have met before I fall asleep and of all the stories we have heard today the overwhelming thread to is all is friendship. Two different families hosted us today, in an area in the north of Jordan called Ajloun. It’s on the tourist route as Ajloun
In three classrooms of a school in Irdib, the third largest city in Jordan just 20 miles from the Syrian border, is a bustling student community. From the outside it looks like any other. A basketball court to the side, an area for playing football at the back. Nestled amongst houses and small businesses you might not think anything of this building. But what goes on
. Four years ago in the middle of night Aintifar woke to the sound of shelling. Louder than usual she soon realised that her house had been hit. The house she lived in with her husband, who worked in construction, and five of her six children, the eldest, Muayed away in Lebanon doing his National Service. Her children had been injured by shrapnel and the family soon
. I am off to Jordan today, for four days, accompanying WorldVisionUK as they look to mark five years since the conflict in Syria caused the largest migration of people since the second world war. As part of the charity’s #BarefootCoatless campaign we will be visiting refugee camps and also meeting refugees living with host families in the community. More than that I don’t really know if I am
. I first wrote about Syria on my blog in May 2012. It was more of a rant than an informative piece. A rant at the lack of media attention for the Houla massacre that had taken place overnight. A few days later I was at it again, asking “Will you Look Away”, part of a campaign suggesting this was Syria’s tipping point and that the violence had to stop.
. I have spent a lot of time recently thinking about how lucky I am. I know I often whinge out loud about how tired I am, how busy, how broke etc, how the house is a mess and how the laundry pile is never ending but do you know what, actually, things are okay. For many they are not okay and I have become increasingly aware of those
Today feels like something historic is happening. Something monumental. Something spectacular. Something that is set to change the lives of millions in less than two decades. Something that needs your support to happen, because without you the goals won’t work. In order to get these simple goals to work they need to be famous and we need to know about them so that world leaders don’t forget them.
I like full stops. I like that they signify the end of a sentence. You know where you are with a full stop. It tells you to breathe. To stop mid paragraph. You can look up when you get to the full stop. You can even go off and make a coffee. Put the book down in fact. Safe in the knowledge that the full stop told you
Apologies first of all if you got an email notification about a similarly named post yesterday. That is what happens when you try and get organised by planning posts for the week, and then don’t get around to writing the actual post whilst at the same time forgetting to cancel the auto publish. As you can probably tell it has been a crazy few months. The culmination of
. I have been meaning to write about this ever since we got back from Kenya and I think it is the perfect topic for this week’s Gallery theme of colour. HOVIC, was a hive activity, in fact one of the noisiest and busiest projects we saw during our time in Kenya. The boys were eating, dancing, hanging out of trees, having lessons, or just generally sitting around with their