On our way to the Domiz camp we pass through the city, we see people rushing to work, children fooling around in school busses on their way to school. It´s busy in front of the camp, cars going there and back, people crossing the way. Just behind the gate, there is a small market, empty (for the moment), just a few salesmen are unpacking vegetables. We turn to the middle of the camp on a muddy road lined by various shops with wedding dresses, cell phones, candy store, shawarma stores. There is also a “pet shop” with budgerigars. .. read more

My name is Mashallah. I am a Kurd from Syria. I’m the mother of four and I’m married. I’m originally from Derek but I grew up in Damascus. My home is Damascus. My husband was an artist. He was a music teacher. He was doing business trades, too. We had a very good life in Syria. We were happy. We had our own house. .. read more

I had to leave Qamishli in 2012. There was no work, no services, no electricity. I had to abandon my house, my shop and all my belongings. My son Reyan was  only few months old at that time and had to be carried. I walked a few hours with him on my back. .. read more

No one helped us when we arrived here. Like them we lived in tents with no water or electricity and we had to share the toilets with dozens of others. After four years spent at Domiz, my family was granted permission to build a rudimentary concrete shelter. .. read more