Mohammad Al Awwayik

My name is Mohammad. Working in the land was what I used to love most. As a child, I would suffer in school. I could not stand sitting behind a desk the entire day, as my legs would itch. I had but one desire, which was to join my dad in picking cucumbers. At 12 years old, my father had finally agreed that I can be free from my school desk and work in the field by his side.

A few years later, as I became older, I tried joining the army. But within a year I went back home convinced that I was not meant to carry a weapon. I was however very patriotic but my impulsive character and my love for freedom did not suit the good soldier’s uniform. I preferred playing the role of referee between my brothers and sisters, and helping them if they ever needed my protection.

One day in 1985, my mother collapsed. My cousin Mahmoud was arrested in Tripoli, so I rushed without thinking to go and find him. Mahmoud was only 13 years old. Despite my efforts, there was little I could do for him. Neither him nor I returned home on that day.

My name is Mohammad Al Awwayik, my cousin is Mahmoud Al Awwayik. Do not let our story end here.