Home - Part I

This is part one of a post that turned out to be too long. I thought I'd spare you 25 years of memories in one go.

This will be the second time I leave this house, but this time I won't be able to return.

[About why our home is being taken away from us - The Ruwais Project]

I remember the first time we left home. I was 11, my dad didn't offer an explanation. I suddenly had to leave my home, my grandparents, the cat, the birds out my window, my whole world.

I wasn't much of a social child, and leaving home made me depressed. I didn't know it was called depression. The first existential crisis was soon to follow. Ages 11 to 13 were the most confusing to me, I was so lost and sad, and I had no idea what to do about it.

As soon as I was born I was brought to this house, we lived on the top floor while my grandparents lived on the lower floor. During kindergarten, every morning after fajr I'd hear the noisy birds out my window, our neighbour across the narrow street kept birds in his balcony, among them a very noisy large grey parrot that I used to watch from my window.

I'd get ready for school, hearing my grandfather's radio loudly reading the news in their living room downstairs while they have breakfast. He'd be listening to the BBC's Arabic broadcast. His radio marked the beginning of every day, I still have his radios.

On the weekends, I used to go grocery shopping with my grandmother, walking down the street to the tiny supermarket and bakery. She'd do the shopping while I pick out yellow apples, then we'd go to the bakery to pick up bread. We'd have post-shopping sandwiches and apples when we're home.

She made me my first cup of coffee. I was around 4 or 5, she'd have Turkish coffee in the afternoon while we're sitting together. One day she boiled some milk and added a tiny bit of coffee to it in a tiny Turkish coffee mug. She later told my mother that she didn't really give me much coffee.

I terribly miss my grandparents.

Part II to follow in a few days, stay tuned!
My grandfather, allah yr7amo.


  1. It must be really terrible to have your home taken away from you :( I find that our childhood memories are the ones we cling to the most, and make us feel safe the most (if they are good memories). I still have some teddy bears from when I was little and would never dream of throwing them away.

  2. Safiyah: Thank you for the comment.

    Fadiah: 7abeebi! don't cry *HUG*


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