Syrian refugees "stuck" in Serbia
Hassan, 35, worked and saved for two years. He, his and four children have been traveling for a month and a half. Finally, they are within sight of the Hungarian border, but they are unable to cross.
He sits in front of a small tent with his family and two friends who joined them on the journey. There is warmth and humor in this family and their traveling companions, two Kurdish men from the same small town in Syria. They’ve traveled with Hassan’s family since they left Turkey. They want to go to Germany.
From their light banter and easy conversation you wouldn’t know the congenial group was out for more than a Sunday picnic. Hassan and his wife Rania’s two children: Sabrina, 9, and Ahmed, 7, play in the soft, green grass.
“I worked for two years to save enough money to make this trip,” Hassan.
Barely 20 yards away on a hill overlooking hundreds of tents and perhaps 1,000 or more people sitting on the grass, there’s a 13-foot-tall fence topped by rolls of razor wire gleaming silver in the sun. Hungarian border guards in dark uniforms stand at attention in a long row looking down on the families in the meadow below.
Hassan and Rania are patiently hoping that the border with Hungary will open in the next few days. They’ve decided to wait while they consider whether they need to try another route.
Hassan moved his family from Aleppo, Syria to Turkey two years ago. “I worked for two years to save enough money to make this trip,” he says.
“I want a life for my family and school for the children,” Hassan.
Hassan wants to go to Paris. “I want a life for my family and school for the children,” he says, noting especilly that he wants his children to be able to go to school, something they were unable to do in Turkey.
“School is number 1,” says Rania. As if on cue, they all repeat, “school number 1” loudly and laugh. When they were in Syria, the schools were bombed and closed, Hassan says. Then, in Turkey, the children couldn’t attend because they were not registered citizens.
Ahmed, 16, joined Hassan’s family after his father died in the war. He completed grade 7 before leaving Syria, but has had no schooling since. “School I want most,” he says. “And, to see a football game.”
“School I want most,” Ahmed, 16.
Hassan and Rania’s son, Ahmed, 7, has never been to school.
The children play with sticks in the ashes of a fire next to their family’s tent. “Do they have toys?” someone asks Rania, who is sitting in the doorway of the tent. She turns to shuffle through their belongings and pulls out a teddy bear, two stuffed rabbits, and more, smiling and trying to remember the name of each as she tosses them in a pile.
They are named for the countries they’ve passed through on their journey. Serbia is the last one, a yellow toy plastic bus with passengers.
World Vision is responding to the refugee crisis in the Western Balkans by providing basic hygiene and food packages. World Vision also intends to expand its work to include providing child protection services.