Raya Dawari

My name is Raya. I was a young 30-year-old mother. After the loss of my husband, I had to raise our two daughters Abir and Nisirne on my own. After a period of desperation, I regained my strength and landed a job. I was in charge of arranging the departures and arrivals of young people who were pursuing their education abroad. Being able to contribute to ensuring a better future to these individuals, brought me great pleasure. Between my work and my children, I rarely had time for myself. So, I was eagerly waiting for my daughters to start school, for me to regain my breath.

I was on the way to Souk el Ghareb to register Abir and Nisrine in school, when I got kidnapped. I was with four other passengers when we got stopped at a checkpoint near the Museum area in Beirut. Samia, Mona, Hanane and Younes were young students heading to Syria. They were supposed to board a plane to Moscow, where they were completing their studies. But instead, we all disappeared. Only the driver was released. In fact, he was the one to break the terrible news to our families.

At that time, Abir and Nisrine were aged 6 and 5 years old respectively. They were to go back to school without their mother. At first, their pain was unbearable, but as time went by, it eased. However, Mothers’ Day remains a particularly painful day for them both.

My name is Raya Dawari. Do not let my story end here.