As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow

by Zoulfa Katouh

And to all the Syrians who loved, lost, lived and died for Syria We will come back home one day

reading this being able to say syria is free<33

For every life I can’t save during my shift, one more drop of blood becomes a part of me. No matter how many times I wash my hands, our martyrs’ blood seeps beneath my skin, into my cells. By now it’s probably encoded in my DNA.

‘Life is more than just survival, Salama,’

‘We fight while we’re still here, Salama, because this is our country. This is the land of your father, and his father before him. Your history is embedded in this soil. No country in the world will love you as yours does.’

queue the sad fairouz

Bury me before I bury you.

no amount of warning can prepare me for the sight of a human struggling for breath. This is not normal, and it never will be.

But then, perhaps, even without evidence, a sliver of a chance at survival is better than living at the mercy of genocide.

‘There are still more patients—’ ‘Your life is just as important as theirs,’ he interrupts, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. ‘Your. Life. Is. Just. As. Important.’

Innocent lives don’t matter when he can fill his pockets from our suffering.

pretty much sums politics up

I wanted to

what a sad phrase

I can see his real face behind the fragments he’s had to glue back together over and over again.

‘This is my country. If I run away – if I don’t defend it, then who will?’

‘How do I leave that? When for the first time in my whole life I’m breathing free Syrian air?’

I even hear a few laughs and clutch to that shred of innocence that’s still alive and fighting, tucking it safely in my heart.

We don’t have to stop living because we might die. Anyone might die at any given moment, anywhere in the world. We’re not an exception. We just see death more regularly than they do.’

‘So, might as well go down fighting,’ Kenan finishes. ‘I won’t let them own my fears.’

I’ve already died. I died the day Baba and Hamza were taken. I died the day Mama was murdered. I die every single day that I can’t save a patient, and I died yesterday when I held a little girl’s life hostage. Maybe in Germany some piece of me can be revived.

Time is the best medicine to turn our bleeding wounds to scars, and our bodies might forget the trauma, our eyes might learn to see colours as they should be seen, but that cure doesn’t extend to our souls.

‘Where is he?’ Dr Ziad’s eyes don’t meet mine. ‘Sednaya Prison.’

oh fuck

‘There are enough people hurting you,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t be one of them.’

‘Insh’Allah, we will come back home. We will plant new lemon trees. We’ll rebuild our cities, and we will be free.’

sobbing

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He smiles. ‘You’re my Sheeta.’

So let’s find our happiness here in Homs. Let’s get married in our country. Let’s make a home here before we make one somewhere else.’

With Layla. Safe and sound.

...shes going to die isnt she

Is he your favourite superhero?’ For the first time since I’ve met him, Yusuf’s eyes brighten up and he nods once before pressing his lips together and clutching the straps.

rip my heart out why dont u

His emotional growth is a plant that people forgot to water, so it tries to capture any moisture it can.

Kenan reaches for my hands, enveloping them in his warm ones. ‘Salama, no one’s here. There’s no Layla. I can’t see her.’

what. I have not just been butterfly summered

I used to be beautiful.

stop

‘Know that even in death, you’re my life.’

‘Everywhere. Since the beginning of time, I have awoken in people’s hearts. I’ve been given many names in countless languages. In yours, I’m Khawf. In English, Fear. In German, Angst. Humans have listened to my whispers, heeded my counsel, and tasted my power. I’m everywhere. In the breaths of a king executed by his people. In the last heartbeats of a soldier bleeding out alone. In the tears of a pregnant girl dying at her doorstep.’

It reminds me that as long as the lemon trees grow, hope will never die.