For refugees, the dream of going home never dies

The series of portraits, released by the International Medical Corps to mark World Refugee day, seeks to humanise the refugee crisis.

A Syrian refugee family crosses at the Hadalat border into Jordan. Khalil Mazraawi / AFP

A new photo project captures the optimism of Syrian refugees in Turkey, providing insight into their lives and the hopes they have for the future and a return to normality.

There is an essential aspect that is missing from all the fevered debates in Europe over Syrian refugees, when people ask how many to take in and inevitably, how long will they stay.

And that is, most refugees really just want to go home.

On this, the sixth World Refugee Day since the Syrian civil war broke out, a new photography project from the International Medical Corps (IMC) seeks to ­humanise the situation by looking beyond the numbers to some of the actual people affected.

The Face of the Refugee Crisis is a series of 40 arresting portraits, each paired with a small biography, by the German photographer Deniz Calagan. Taken over nine days in south-east Turkey last month, they offer both an autopsy of the war to date and moving insights into these refugees' lives.

What surprised Calagan most was the optimism expressed by everyone – most with major illnesses and injuries – whose ­image he captured.

“I wasn’t expecting the hope,” he said. “I can’t imagine if I had to flee Germany because of war that I would be so hopeful to get back. And most of the people were ­really keen on getting back to their home country and to continue with their lives.”

Calagan had not read anything about this element of the crisis in the German media.

“After all the challenges they have overcome up until now to be safe, and still they say they want to go back to their home country and rebuild?” Calagan said.

“To me it’s mind blowing. It’s unbelievable.”

Of those refugees who were still determined to make it to Europe or to the US, he said, it was for ­urgent or specific medical care.

“There’s a difference between saying I want to go there and get a job and have lots of shiny things, and saying they want medical treatment.”

Take Ibrahim Nasar, who took up arms against the Syrian regime after a year and a half, but fled to Turkey after he was shot by a ­sniper.

“I don’t feel sad,” said the 20-year-old. “I expected this, or worse – but I had to fight. I had to take that risk.”

Since arriving in Turkey he has been receiving treatment from IMC workers for depression, along with physical therapy to teach him how to move from a wheelchair to crutches.

“My next goal is to get rid of these crutches, to get a job and to get on with a normal life,” he said.

Jon Cunliffe, the IMC’s emergency response team leader in Turkey, agreed that the majority of refugees dreamt of returning home.

“Nearly every refugee we support hopes to return to Syria – but with each day the conflict continues that becomes less and less likely.”

As the war rolls on, and the death toll climbs higher, reserves of hope are not as readily available as they once were, he said.

“I don’t think anyone can imagine that the hope that was present when the fighting was breaking out can have entirely survived such conditions – but it is a testament to the Syrian people that hope still exists at all. It is a remarkable thing.”

The IMC, with its headquarters in California and founded in 1984, receives funding from the European Union - which funded the photo project - as well as other public and private sources. All of the portrait subjects are receiving some form of assistance from the IMC, whether it is physical rehabilitation, relief from gender-based ­violence, or mental health support, work that is funded by the European Union’s European Commission’s Humanitarian Aid and Civil Protection department.

Mr Cunliffe stressed how much the work was needed.

“Our rehabilitation teams work with the most vulnerable. Those who have suffered significant physical injury, those who live with substantial mental health conditions and those who have lost everything and don’t know where to turn,” he said.

“When we can help them find hope for the future once again, it is the biggest reward going.”

But the international community needs to do more, Mr Cunliffe said, and that starts with viewing refugees as individual people rather than a faceless group.

“Each refugee has hopes, fears, dreams – and each led what was to them a normal life before the conflict broke out,” he said.

“Syria was a country with a rich history and a distinct culture, and as a global community we need to ensure that each individual who is looking for some shelter from the bitter fighting is provided with it.”

Hala, 13, fled Daraa in Syria’s south in 2014 after watching her mother die when a rocket hit their home. She was left with post-traumatic stress disorder and suffers seizures up to 15 times a day.

At the IMC centre in Reyhanli, Hala’s counsellor encourages her to play, and to talk about her experiences. But she needs access to wider health services, which are unavailable for refugees in Turkey.

Her father is to the point: “Our children should be living with dignity – instead they are dying.”

One portrait subject, an anonymous 17-year-old girl, originally from Homs, suffers from epilepsy.

At the time she fled Syria in 2014, feelings of sadness, anger and frustration were triggering her epileptic fits.

In Reyhanli, she is under the care of IMC mental health support workers. She is now a vocal member in group sessions, and in her free time enjoys reading and writing in her diary.

“I came here seeking help, she said. “What I found were people who understand my life, who can share the pain together. I can be truly relaxed. It can be easy for refugees to be miserable, to stay in bed and get depressed,” she said. “They need to be positive and build a future.”

The teenager is now focused on doing just that – allowing herself to feel optimistic.

“All I wish for now is for time with my family, and a resolution to the conflict in Syria – so we can return to our home.”