My name is Amena, I am your sister..

I met Amena (not her real name) in at a makeshift camp in Hara Hotel.  The day was not a good day, this was clear from daybreak.  The wind was so strong as I left my guest house in Macedonia, I felt some fear as I thought about the tents the people in Hara were living in.

My fears were well founded, my stomach churned as I approached Hara.  The scene was one of devastation. Many of the tents were grounded and the others looked like they would take off into the air any time soon.  If this were a festival site, I would feel some sympathy for the residents/festival goers – we would all say “ah what bad luck to pick such a weekend for Glastonbury/ T in the Park / Bestival etc – but this ‘camp’ site is ‘home’ to the families here, it is their shelter, their refuge from the outside world…. and it was seemingly  gone.

My friend Willem and I surveyed the scene, paralyzed for what seemed like hours, but was really seconds.  We went around the camp telling people that we would help to put the tents up when the wind went down.  The people were gracious and shrugged their shoulders, smiling – no real panic or despair .. just acceptance.

This was also the day that the owner of the hotel decided to turn off the water.. the one tap which provided water for washing/cleaning and cooking.  The people I was working with had prepared for this – they had emergency bottled water, plus an IBC of drinking water to distribute.  The water from the IBC was close to running out, so I went to find Willem, the co-ordinator for the day, to tell him….

Willem just looked at me and shook his head .. I think there may be a lady having a miscarriage he said .. Thats when I met Amena…

Willem had contacted the emergency services, an ambulance was on the way.  Amena though was in her small tent, which was being blown around in the wind.

I entered the tent and sat next to Amena who was laying on the floor, I took her hand and stroked her hair.  She smiled at me, calm and beautiful, even though she kept having stomach pains and must have been very scared.  She had two young children, one a 2 year old boy with a mass of curly hair was jumping around, clearly upset because he knew there was something wrong with his mum.  I tried to keep him occupied with a foam ball (the only play thing in this 4 man tent) and cuddled him, whilst also trying to hold up the tent which was in a state of collapse with the buffeting wind.  Her second son came in, she told me he was 6, he looked only about 4.  I found out later that this young boy had cerebral palsy, I gave him my hat to wear and he was happy with this for the moment.  Amena and I talked – as well as two mums who don’t speak the same language – she thanked me and squeezed my hand.

The medical crew arrived and took Amena off in an ambulance with her mother, her children howled and cried seeing their mother leaving.  I cant imagine what they were thinking.  Their father was at a loss, holding them and trying to comfort them.

Later on I saw a lady pushing the curly headed 2 year old boy around in a buggy, he had had milk and cuddles but was still crying for his mum – unable to sleep.  The next day, she said that the little boy had eventually fallen asleep whilst sobbing for his mum.

Amena lost her baby, and I never saw her again.  But I hope that her story ends happily.  I heard that she and her family were granted a humanitarian visa to Switzerland.  Someone in authority had seen their case and ‘made it happen’.   I think of her often.

You would be very proud to have Amena as your sister… she is kind, calm, loving and brave.

Who is Amena? she is your sister …