For my ten-year-old self
For my ten year old self. For every child of war. I see you.
I’m sorry your childhood was taken away from you.
I’m sorry you felt ashamed.
I’m sorry you thought you were different.
I’m sorry they separated you.
I’m sorry they took your freedom and your rights.
I’m sorry you believed everything was your fault.
I’m sorry they didn’t see your as the human that you are.
I’m sorry they made you believe that their ignorance is what you deserved.
It was never your fault, you should have never been separated, you were the same, because we all are, you never had a reason to be ashamed.
For my ten year old self, a refugee child, stuck in a world where the blame was brought to the wrong person.
It was not your fault that we had to leave and run, it was not your fault we were caged in this big city, it was not your fault that the clothes you were wearing were bought with coupons, because they wanted to discriminate every fibre of your living, it was not your fault that your parents didn’t know the German language, it was not your fault you didn’t have a passport. Their ignorance was not your fault.
To the ignorant ones: Be ashamed for thinking you could have an opinion, be ashamed for taking the right to judge without knowing, be ashamed of critizing language skills, be ashamed to have ever said a word against refugees, to have ever wished we weren’t there. Be ashamed of looking at us like we don’t belong here, because we do. You’re more than lucky that you can’t truly understand what we went trough.
This is our home. This is my home.