Shaima Ahmad, 55, lived in a small Syrian town with her husband Dawud and their six children. She lived the modest life of a lower-middle class family and her days were occupied with taking care of her children. One rainy morning, Shaima spoke to her husband about the possibility of having breast cancer. All her symptoms matched what she had heard of about this debilitating disease. Of course, she didn’t let her children get wind of her fears because she didn’t want to cause them distress.
When Shaima and Dawud consulted the cancer specialist in a hospital two towns away from home, their worst fears were realized. Two words rang aloud in Shaima’s head. Breast. Cancer. In the weeks and months that followed, Shaima and Dawud made countless trips to the hospital. At first, Shaima walked to the cancer ward side by side with Dawud. After a few rounds of treatment, Dawud had to carry her in a wheelchair.
Though the doctors were able to overcome the cancer, they were not able to control the side-effects associated with cancer treatment. Shaima developed lymphedema in her left arm.
Lymphedema – often associated with breast cancer – is the swelling of the lymphatic vessels caused by the backup of fluids in tissues. Shaima did her best to hide the excruciating pain that she lived with every day from her family. Dawud also buried the stress related to the crippling cost of the cancer treatment within himself.
Just when Shaima thought her life couldn’t get any more trying, her country plunged into civil war. Shaima dragged her aching body to join her family in fleeing Syria. Life as a refugee is tough enough for people with no health issues but it’s so much worse for those with a disability. Research done by the United Nations supports this notion when it states that “refugees with disabilities are more likely to be sidelined in every aspect of humanitarian assistance due to physical, environmental and societal barriers against accessing information, health and rehabilitation services and human rights protection.” The Ahmads spent months in neighboring Jordan during which time Shaima did not have access to a doctor.
Not all of Shaima and Dawud’s children were with them when they were flown into Canada in December, 2016, as part of the Canadian government’s efforts to give home to displaced Syrian refugees. One of their sons had fled to Iraq and the other to Turkey, each deeming the country they chose as a safer option. When the Muslim Food Bank & Community Services caseworker, Mariam, took up the Ahmads’ case three months after their arrival in Canada the one thing that struck her the most was the newly-arrived couple’s concern for the sons they’d left behind.
“They worry for the children that were not able to join them here,” Mariam says. After having worked with numerous refugee families, Mariam is well-acquainted with how dispersed refugee families can be all across the globe. Oftentimes, refugees have no extended families in the countries they’re accepted into. Shaima’s family is no different.
One thing that made a big difference in Shaima’s health was the medical bed that the Muslim Food Bank was able to arrange for her. Since the Ahmads were starting their life in Surrey, B.C., from scratch, they had no furniture in their new apartment. Through word of mouth, Mariam was able to secure a sofa set for the Ahmads from her friend, Christina.
Both Shaima and Dawud were touched by Christina’s gesture, so much so that they felt like they have a family in Canada that supports them. To show their gratitude, they invited Christina over for dinner along with Mariam. Mariam is originally Palestinian and interprets for the Ahmads between English and her mother tongue, Arabic.
For Christina, it was a learning experience to spend time with this Syrian family. She had never met Syrian people before. She had only seen them on the news. When Christina interacted with the Ahmads, her views about Syrian refugees totally changed.
“It’s not like what you see on TV. When you sit and talk with them, it’s so easy relate to them,” Christina told Mariam. To Christina, the Ahmads were more than just numbers. They were people just like her with the same dreams and goals, though they had seen far too much in the days gone by.
Shaima and Dawud have trouble recounting the horrors of war they went through. The wounds are too fresh to uncover. Over the past six months of being their caseworker, Mariam has been careful not to enliven their memories.
“Whatever she volunteers to tell me, I listen. I never inquire more than what she willingly shares,” Mariam says about Shaima.
All Shaima and Dawud want at this point in life is to have a stable life with all their children, including the ones in Iraq and Turkey. The Muslim Food Bank is playing their part in bringing normalcy back into the Ahmads’ lives.