Who’s Next ?

We were waiting for our uncle’s white car to pull up. We were longing for our countryside and family members and we couldn’t bear waiting much longer. Twilight wait did not last too long and we saw a car stop in front of the door of the building with headlights on.

We had about one hour to go. Distance doesn’t matter for we were heading home. Home will soon come to sight. How I wish I could relive that memory!

How many people dream of returning? There’s no road as long as the road back.

There are millions of people waiting, eagerly hoping to return home. The Rohingyas, the Palestinians, the Syrians, the Afghans, The Africans and people from Latin America. And now the Ukrainians. Will they ever return home? How could they dream of their future?

And look at them now. The places are not the same as they were many years ago. Back then it was different. They were happy. They sent their children to school. They cultivated the land, planted trees like olive trees, took care of the old.
When was the last time they saw the sunrise?
What stirs up painful memories? How can they not miss the place where they grew up?

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