Syria to Germany in a wheelchair: Teen’s extraordinary story of hope

Nujeen Mustafa was born with cerebral palsy and grew up with minimal formal education with her world largely restricted to the four walls of her house. However, this did not stop her from travelling with her older sister Nisreen, 4,000 miles from Syria to Hungary in a wheelchair, an odyssey that involved dodging masked IS fighters, navigating perilous Mediterranean waters and fending off packs of wild dogs. In 2014, her home town of Kobane in Aleppo, northern Syria, was at the centre of fierce fighting between IS militants and US-backed Kurdish forces, forcing her family to flee across the border. Having taught herself to speak English by watching US soap-operas on Syrian TV, she made her way to the Hungarian border in the hope of asylum in Germany, where she has told her story, with Christina Lamb, renowned journalist and the co-author of I Am Malala.

A strong, extraordinary voice, Nujeen tells the story of what it’s really like to be a refugee, to have grown up through war and left a beloved homeland to become dependent on others. It tells how the Syrian war has destroyed a proud nation and torn families apart in the face of international indifference by leaders scarred by previous interventions. It is the story of our times told through one remarkable 17-year-old who awaits reuniting with her parents who remain in Gazientep.

As stories of the European migrant crisis, Syrian war and the EU Referendum continue to converge, Nujeen’s journey offers optimism and inspiration for all, that make her memoir a must read. Experts from an interview with Nujeen and Christina:

As a journalist I had spent most of 2015 covering the refugee crisis — Europe’s biggest refugee crisis since the Second World War — and felt it was hard for readers to understand what it is really like to be a refugee as the numbers were so big — more than1.2 million people. I always like telling stories through people and so was looking for one person to tell it through. When I met Nujeen and her sister I couldn’t believe it — the refugee journey was hard enough for an able bodied person, and some perished en route, but to do it in a wheelchair... This was a story that deserved to be told.

She feels very strongly that she wants people to know refugees are not numbers or statistics but real people. She is an adorable girl, very funny and curious about everything, and incredibly knowledgeable despite being entirely self-educated from TV. 

To convey what it is really like to grow up in war. I had never been to Aleppo until last week! And Nujeen is so positive; it is hard to get her to talk about the difficulties. Also to challenge the negative perceptions many readers have about refugees.

To realise that any of us could suddenly find ourselves refugees – a few years ago no one in Aleppo could have imagined the old city would end up a moonscape of destruction. And, that any problems I have in my comfortable life are nothing compared to those of the refugees.

That refugees want what we want – to be able to get up, brush their teeth, go to school or work and come back safely. It is important to realise that no one leaves their home on such a perilous journey unless they have no other choice. And that even what seem the most insurmountable obstacles can be overcome by determination.

It was heaven. Aleppo is a proud city — proud of its history, monuments, souks etc. The food is delicious. The night before Newroz, which is the start of the Kurdish New Year, was full of dancing, fireworks and marches.

It was fine. The journey offered independence and great adventure. It was time for me to face the world. 

Both. I see myself as a hand working student in Germany but I will never be fully German and there will always be a part of me left in Syria yearning to go back.

Experience has taught me much. I see myself as a teenager who is a refugee not as a German teenager. This feeling of being a foreigner is hard and I must work hard to integrate. I have to adapt myself to the rules, but at the same time I don’t want to lose my identity. 

I miss my childhood. I miss being crazy about books and TV programmes. I miss sharing a bed with my mother. I miss family gatherings, fresh air and living in a busy city. I don’t miss the bombing. I don’t miss hiding in the bathroom and feeling afraid. I don’t miss scud bombs, chemical attacks, massacres and fighting. And I certainly don’t miss Assad. 

That they are being overly cautious. Try to get to know us. We might have difficulties in communicating but you have to think of us as people, not numbers in the news. Not everyone is lucky to live in a safe country, so appreciate what you have.