As soon as I realised it was my turn to blog today (I know, I know, sorry!) I knew I wanted to write about Syria. For those of you who don’t watch or read the news (and I didn’t when I was young; I thought it was reallly boring), Syria is a country in the Middle East (it’s the pinky-purpley one in the map below):
and for the past two years it’s been at war with itself. Syria has a government that isn’t popular, and so some protesters formed a rebellion group, and now the fighting (with guns, tanks, bombs and chemical weapons) has got so bad that hundreds of thousands of people have run away from their homes and gone into other countries to get help.
Most of the people running away are women, children and elderly. Many of them have lost their fathers and brothers to shooting and bombs. So the people who arrive in Jordan, Egypt and other surrounding countries are really the most vulnerable. Today the United Nations has said that the registered number of children who have run away from the war in Syria has reached one million. (740,000 of these are under eleven.) One million children who have lost their homes. Some of them have seen their parents killed in the fighting. All of them have been through awful things, and now they’re in a country they don’t know, where people speak different languages, and they have hardly anything to call their own: no toys, no spare clothes.
In some places, charities have set up camps with tents and hospitals and running water and electricity, but not everyone can get there. And the camps are never big enough because more people keep coming.
There’s a brilliant link HERE where you can explore Zaatari, a refugee camp in Jordan. There are a few children you can learn about there too. The girl below is Sidra and she’s seven years old:
Sidra’s brother and uncle were killed in the fighting and her mother was questioned by officials, which was very scary. They were packing to leave when their house was bombed. She says: “We left that night. We didn’t have to carry anything with us, because nothing was left.”
I can’t imagine how I would feel if my relatives died in fighting and then my house was bombed and all my things – gone, just like that. She must have been terrified for so long.
It’s made me wonder. If I ruled the world, what would I do to make sure this didn’t happen? Is it even POSSIBLE to make people live in peace? Or will they always insist on fighting each other?
If YOU ruled the world, what rules and laws would you make so that people could be as safe as possible?