Mohammad min Haleb

When it comes to the Syrian refugees I've given up. I've been warned by literally everyone I talk to - and I'm sure it's true - that giving them money is useless at best and, worse, perpetuates a criminal operation aimed at relieving gullible people of their hard-earned cash.

May and Karma tell me to offer them food, which can actually help ameliorate their condition. Most of them have fled vicious fighting in which no quarter is given, lost everything they have and are now adrift in a sea of indifference. Or frustration...many people are clearly in the same predicament I'm in: they want to help, but they can't figure out how to avoid enriching a bunch of thugs and criminals in the process.

It's not all criminals, of course. As one friend explained, in many cases the father, or surviving male head of a family group will send the women and children into the street to beg. The reason is simple: the men themselves could beg all day and get nothing, while a woman sitting in the street with two or three children will at least come back with something. The need to survive comes above everything. Young women, and even girls, are selling themselves (or, more correctly, being sold) all over town.

The other evening May came across a little girl of eight or so, begging alone in the street well after dark. She told May her family were 'around' but not nearby. May, violating her own rule, gave the girl some money, but said, 'when you give this to your dad, tell him it is haram (shameful), mamnua' (forbidden)' to leave you alone in the street like this at night. He should not do this.'

Whether the message was delivered and acted on is, to say the least, highly improbable. What are a little girl's chances, alone in the dark streets in the current conditions? Less than very poor. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that, in the long run, they are nearly nil. With 500,000 lost souls roaming the streets of the city, the fate of one little girl is un-noticeable. Anything can happen to her, be done to her, with impunity. And, given time, almost certainly will.

We did have one fortuitous opportunity to obey May's rule. We were waiting in front of Barbar Shawarma to put in an order and a young boy approached me for money. May noticed and said, 'no money, offer him some food'. Which I did, in my still horribly broken Arabic. He immediately said yes, so we added an additional order.

May ordering our food. The top of Mohammad's head just
visible at the bottom.

While we were waiting we asked him a few questions. His name was Mohammad. I remembered enough to ask him where he was from, and he answered, predictably, 'Syria'. I pushed my Arabic to the limit and inquired, 'What town are you from?', to which he answered 'Haleb' - Arabic for the town we call Aleppo.

It was at this point that I realized my eyes were getting wet. These kids are from Aleppo, Dara'a, Idlib - all the towns we've been reading about in the paper for two years. I used to go to Aleppo, and it was a wonderful town. For over a year I've followed from afar its destruction and the horrible suffering of its population. Now, here was one of Aleppo's kids, standing right in front of me. For him, home is a memory, food is hard to come by, he'll be lucky ever to see the inside of a school again.

Like I said at the top, I've given up. There's no way to carry shawarma sandwiches in my pockets. I'll follow May's rule whenever I can. For in between, I've decided to carry and distribute reasonable amounts of small bills. If it goes to the wrong place...that's not my problem.