An Open Letter To The Mothers Of Aleppo

To My Fellow Carriers Of Life,

First, let me say I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that, at this time the world is seemingly moving at such a rapid pace, the cries of your children have fallen on deaf ears. As the images of your affliction and dire need flood my timeline my mind begins to wonder “But by the grace of God go I.” This morning as I went about my daily routine of getting my children off to school my spirit was overcome with a complex combination of guilt and profuse empathy.

There’s a crippling amount of culpability that comes with silence” was the unceasing mantra that played in my mind on the drive home, not knowing what to do I began to write you a letter. What did you do this morning? I pondered. How did you sleep? Did your children get any rest? (I dare not ask about their mental state as I can imagine the trauma they’ve endured). With every simple question I began to cry, as the mere thought of your reality was too much for me to even fathom, disgusting I know.

I prayed for you, for your family, and for your unwavering strength.

It was in that moment that I came across 7-year-old Aleppo resident Bana Alabed’s Twitter feed, Bana and her mother have been using the social media platform to share their story. Scrolling further down her page I came across a post that featured young Bana reading. Reading during war?

<a rel="nofollow" href="" target="_blank"
Twitter link

I imagined you having to maintain a homelike atmosphere in an impossible circumstance. Creating distractions when there are bombs or reading to your child during short periods of bone chilling silence. Yet I know that the ability to manifest the illusion of safety is carried in the arsenal of every mothers war chest. We never let our children see us fearful and though we are separated by many miles I would be remiss to indulge in the notion that we are not the same.

We may not share the same religion but I believe with you, we may not have the same children but I carried beside you and we may not be standing in a war zone together but it is my duty to utilize every opportunity and western privilege to stand for you. Therefore I STAND WITH THE MOTHERS OF ALEPPO.

Jdaideh, Aleppo. A displaced mother tends to her child and bakes bread.
Jdaideh, Aleppo. A displaced mother tends to her child and bakes bread.

As mothers embedded in the fabric of our genetic makeup there is the ornate necessity to protect our children. Also as mothers we belong a to an elite sisterhood of women who have brought forth and protected life for generations that stated, there’s strength in numbers. William Ross Wallace once penned a poem entitled "The Hand That Rocks the Cradle Is the Hand That Rules the World" and it is in that same spirit that I humbly impress upon the immediate action of every mother throughout our global community, to stand up and denounce the incessant violence against the women and children of Syria.

It is my promise to you dear sister, to set aside all personal political views and speak out against the heinous atrocities you and your children have sustained. Just hours ago I watched a video made by a Syrian orphanage which shows a child pleading to the international community. 47 children, parentless asking for our help. "We are scared of the airstrikes ... Please get us out of Aleppo. We want to live like everyone else," 10-year-old Yasmeen Qanouz said while his voice quivered.

Are these not our children? I asked myself.

Alone I am just one but it is my sincere wish to stand along side many others and declare loudly “ We Stand With The Mothers of Aleppo.” Continued efforts will be made in your names, through the utilization of social media and ceaseless attempts to contact our elected officials petitioning them to condemn the violence in Syria and donating to relief organizations.

No longer are your cries unheard “We hear you Mothers of Aleppo” and together we stand with you.


Your Sister in Motherhood