Young Refugee Discusses a Summer Center and His Family

I’m Shamwi. I’m Shamwi. Huh? I’m Shamwi. I’m Shamwi.

I want my mother. I want the sandal. I’m Khaldoun Nahhal. I saw him in Al-Nadard.

He’s lived there for eighteen years. At a summer center, for a month, you run.

They said, “Let’s get off somewhere else, here.”

Then they said, “An hour at the sea,” and he cried.

We went into the sea, swam, then they sent us back.

A warehouse, one of the weapons warehouses in the camp.

They sent us inside, and we went through several roundabouts.

No, Cabo Bilal al- Tabba. We entered a roundabout from Al- Mokha, Khabu.

Sauce Khabu, you take me to Al- Tabba, from where they came.

He brought me back. They kept me there for about three days.

A month at the summer center, and three days there.

Where’s your father? In Morocco. And your mother? Here.

How many siblings do you have? The rest? Any one of them.

Is he older than you? He’s older than me. Older.

What does he do? He’s in prison. Where is he?

Where is he?

Where is he? Why is he in prison?

A little bit of farming.