After the loss and destruction caused by the February 6 earthquake in Turkey and Syria, this year's Ramadan will be difficult for everyone in the region, including myself. During night time in Gaziantep, Turkey, I still feel the world shaking. I watch the lightbulbs to see whether they are moving, to make sure another earthquake is not happening. I might keep thinking this way and not sleep well for a while.
During past Ramadans, waking up for suhoor, the pre-dawn meal, used to be a beautiful thing. Today, when I wake up before dawn, it is because of the tremors that I imagine, knowing fully well that those are in my head, but the fear just will not go away.
Iftar will also be strange this time around because I will spend this Ramadan alone, away from my family who moved away to another place, a relatively safer place. My sister's house, where we used to have iftar together, is now scheduled for demolition and we had to move out in a hurry. I feel a mix of fear, sadness and anxiety.
Ramadan is a special time for Muslims. I remember earlier when the days were filled with memories of family, being together, food and traditions. I don’t know if there will come a time when these memories will once again be a part of my life, and not mere feelings from the past.
I used to love sharing suhoor and I think about the way we would sit around, all sleepy, eating white cheese, oil and thyme. I loved the way we would get together to break our fast, at sunset, slightly cranky from hunger, making jokes and laughing. My mother prepared the types of food and dishes that we liked, but she would always say she couldn’t finish everything before the call to prayer. My father would bring the famous Ramadan maarouk, the sweet bread, which we ate with tea after ending our fast, and then we all gathered to watch television as a family.
Like most of the Syrian population in Turkey, I know what it is like to lose my home. I lost it once already when I had to leave the country that I loved. As hard as it was, in Turkey, I found a place I could again call home, and now it has been taken away from me again.
What has happened here feels too cruel. Some might think that we Syrians are used to it, but we are not. I think about my Turkish friends and those suffering. It is a very difficult feeling. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
During the holy month, an intense sense of family, and of social rituals, exists among us Muslims and emphasises our sense of community; it gives us a sense of belonging, an increased feeling of sharing and it is a unique experience. I don’t know what Ramadan this year is going to be like. I find myself thinking about how many of us have lost family, friends, neighbours. Our communities across southern Turkey and Syria are broken, our families are lost, our sense of belonging shattered. Millions across the areas destroyed by the earthquake last month are in the same situation as me. I think about them all the time. I have lost a lot, but so many others have lost so much more.
We are still living in a state of fear, panic and sadness. Each of the aftershocks – which are still happening regularly – take away what is left of our sense of safety and stability.
-
A woman walks among destroyed buildings in Hatay, Turkey. Getty Images -
A woman mourns a relative during the burial of one of the earthquake victims in Antakya, southeastern Turkey. AP Photo -
A family photo is seen amid the rubble in Hatay. Getty Images -
Syrian refugees in Turkey return to their home country following the deadly earthquake. AFP -
Members of NGOs Deathcare Embalming Team and Turkish Kurt-Ar inspect the bucket of an excavator as they search for bodies in Kahramanmaras, Turkey. AP Photo -
Dust covers a family photo album found in Antakya. AP Photo -
A man made homeless by the 7.8-magnitude quake carries mattresses distributed by an NGO at a makeshift camp in Afrin, in Syria's Aleppo province. AFP -
A cracked road near the quake’s epicentre in Kahramanmaras, Turkey. AFP -
A rescuer stands near the site where Aleyna Olmez, 17, was rescued from the rubble of a collapsed building in Kahramanmaras, about 10 days after the quake struck. AFP -
A rescuer holds a cat after it was rescued from the ruins of a collapsed building in Kahramanmaras. AFP -
Quake survivors queue for food amid the rubble in Kahramanmaras. Reuters -
Bedran, a local resident who lost his house in the earthquake, keeps warm in Antakya, Turkey. Reuters -
A girl carries a box of water bottles next to a damaged mosque in Antakya. Reuters -
A car lies crushed by parts of a badly damaged building in Samandag, Turkey. AP -
Residentes remove their belongings from their destroyed house in Samandag. AP -
Aleyna Olmez, 17, is rescued after being trapped for 10 days in Kahramanmaras. Getty -
Turkish Foreign Minister Mevlut Cavusoglu, left, with Nato Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg in Ankara. AFP -
A message scrawled on a car covered in dust from collapsed buildings in Antakya, Turkey. AP -
Destruction in Antakya. AP -
A cracked road leads to a flooded area in Antakya. AP -
A man looks bewildered at the site of collapsed buildings in Hatay, Turkey. EPA -
Numbered stones near graves of earthquake victims at a cemetery in Adiyaman, Turkey. EPA -
A makeshift camp set up amid the rubble in Antakya, south of Hatay. AFP -
A woman holds her baby inside a tent in a camp in Antakya, Hatay. AFP -
Greek and Turkish rescuers are at work to extract bodies of victims from the rubble in Antakya. AFP -
Samar Hamouda, 44, recalls her experience of the earthquake destroying her home, at Tishreen Hospital in Latakia, Syria. Reuters -
A damaged house in Jableh, Syria. Reuters -
Photos of missing children left in hope in Kahramanmaras, Turkey. Reuters -
People collect copies of holy books from the rubble in Kahramanmaras. Reuters -
Rescuers search for survivors under the rubble of a collapsed building in Kahramanmaras. Reuters -
People carry a bodybag as residents wait for their relatives to be pulled out from the rubble in Hatay. AFP -
Dust covers a family photo album found in the debris of a building in Antakya. AP -
Portuguese rescue team members try to free the dog named Tarcin from the rubble in Antakya in Hatay. EPA -
An injured survivor at a makeshift hospital set up at Turkish Bayraktar warship anchored near Iskenderun city, southern Turkey. AP -
A makeshift hospital set up at Turkish Bayraktar warship anchored near Iskenderun city, southern Turkey. AP -
Britain's King Charles III (C) meets with members of the Turkish diaspora community who have been collecting, packaging and organising the transportation of food, blankets and warm clothing for people who have recently been affected by the earthquakes in Turkey and Syria, during a visit to the West London Turkish Volunteers, in Hounslow, greater London. AFP -
People stand by the fire next to the ruins of a collapsed building in Elbistan, Turkey. Reuters -
Destroyed buildings in Syria's rebel-held village of Atarib, in the north-western Aleppo province. AFP -
Rescuers carry Fatma, 15, who was pulled out from the rubble in Hatay, Turkey. Reuters -
A displaced woman receives food inside a stadium in Kahramanmaras, Turkey. Reuters -
People lineup to receive aid supplies at a makeshift camp in Iskenderun city in southern Turkey. AP -
Humanitarian aid provided by Saudi Arabia for survivors of the February 6 earthquake are unloaded at Aleppo Airport in northern Syria. AFP -
Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan addresses the World Government Summit in Dubai via video link. Antonie Robertson/The National -
A man walks between trains being using as shelters in Iskenderun, southern Turkey. AP Photo -
A woman and children inside a train being used as shelter after the earthquake, in Iskenderun. AP Photo -
Tents erected in a school yard for Syrians who have lost their homes after the deadly quake, in the rebel-held town of Harem in Syria. Reuters -
A woman walks by the destroyed Habib-i Neccar mosque in the historic southern city of Antakya in Hatay, Turkey. AFP -
Rescuers pull out a 12-year-old Syrian girl, Cudi, from the rubble in Hatay. AFP -
Amar, a Syrian refugee living in Turkey, looks on as search for survivors continues in Kahramanmaras. Reuters -
Displaced people keep warm by a fire in Kahramanmaras, Turkey. Reuters -
Earthquake survivors receive distributed meals in Golbasi, Turkey. AP -
A woman stands amid boxes of donated clothes in Golbasi, Turkey. AP -
A man walks near a damaged building that leans on a neighbouring house in Golbasi, Turkey. AP -
UN emergency relief co-ordinator Martin Griffiths stands amid quake-damaged buildings in Aleppo, Syria. Reuters -
Delegates observe a moment of silence for the Turkey–Syria earthquake before the start of the World Government Summit in Dubai. Pawan Singh / The National -
People keep warm by a fire as the search for survivors continues a week after the earthquake in Kahramanmaras, Turkey. Reuters -
A child receives food in Kahramanmaras, Turkey. Reuters -
A dog is seen through a glass door in Kahramanmaras, Turkey. Reuters -
Children walk in the street with food boxes in Kahramanmaras, Turkey. Reuters -
A minaret stands as the sun rises over the earthquake-hit city of Kahramanmaras, Turkey. Reuters
Gathering is what gives Ramadan its value as a social ritual among Muslims, as it gives us a sense of belonging to a community, where you can find social support, and leave sadness and isolation behind.
In my capacity as a case management officer at International Network for Aid, Relief and Assistance, particularly during our field work responding to this disaster, I met many families who told me about their feelings of deprivation.
Rawan was one such, who lost her mother in the earthquake. She lives in a state of sadness thinking about Ramadan starting and remembering her mother, who used to prepare the most delicious dishes, including a favourite dish of every family member. She says that without her mother, Ramadan no longer had meaning for her.
Umm Hani’s family had just moved to their new home in Islahiye, in southern Turkey, when the earthquake struck. After years of displacement following the loss of their home in Syria and spending years in refugee camps before moving to Turkey, the walls shook violently and everything in the house fell to the ground.
Amira and her children survived with minor injuries, but they left their new home in ruins. As Ramadan approached, Amira and her family could only feel one thing, a deep sadness. They were always looking forward to spending Ramadan together in their new home. Today they have gone back to living in a tent, struggling to make ends meet.
Yara is a volunteer in humanitarian work, who used to wait for the weekend to share Ramadan rituals with her family. Now she is unable to do so because her family moved away, after losing their home in Antakya to the earthquake.
Ramadan is the most distinguished season of the year for Muslims, during which they remember the values of love and solidarity while learning what it means to truly belong to a community. However, earthquake victims may not be able to experience this feeling. Those who are luckier can use this time to give back to their communities, support earthquake victims, and show compassion and support those who are struggling. Ramadan can also be an opportunity for Muslims to meet and support each other, even if they are physically distant.
This Ramadan will carry a completely different meaning and flavour. This year will be very different for me as well. I will be fasting while working in the field. I will help people who really need it. Maybe I will put myself to work because this is the time for giving. Although I am already giving everything I can, I will find the strength to give more. I see the smiles of gratitude on the faces of families and hear the laughter of children, and after a long and hard day of work, when I hear the maghrib call for prayer, I too will say I gave something of myself today.
