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Tonight I will give birth and I have nothing prepared for the baby. I am alone with no income, no one to take care of my children and me. My son is only 10 years old and working to
provide food. We feel like beggars here in Jordan.

Photographs by Abbie Trayler-Smith.

Muna
Mafraq, Jordan
Mafraq, Jordan

Back home on the farm, my neighbours would come and sit with me under the jasmine to keep out of the afternoon sun and we would eat apricots and apples from our own trees. Now I am lucky if I have one orange a month to slice up and share between the children.

Just to smell the air of home is better than anything else. But I don’t regret leaving. In Syria I was afraid and here I am hungry. I can stand the hunger, but not the fear.

We were so frightened of being raped we would sleep with two pairs of trousers on. My best friend, who is very beautiful, was kidnapped by the Syrian army. I never heard what happened to her. But we could see the way the soldiers looked at us.

When we left, I grabbed the photographs I kept around my mirror and put them in my handbag. That was all we brought. Crossing the border, we walked for 10 hours without food or water, but we were so scared we craved only safety.

Muna
Mafraq, Jordan
Mafraq, Jordan
Muna
Muna
Mafraq, Jordan
Mafraq, Jordan
Muna
Muna