father of two children faces memory of Newroz bombing in Hasakah by clinging to hope

On the night of March 20, 2015, which was supposed to be filled with joy, Amer Ismail Jajo left his home in the city of Hasakah holding the hands of his two young children, Muhammad and Ahmed. The colors and lights of Newroz were visible on the horizon, and the sounds of songs and dabke dances rose from afar, as if the entire city was celebrating life.

The path of joy that was not completed

They walked together towards Martyr Sarhad Square in the Mufti neighborhood of Hasakah, while their mother accompanied them with quiet steps. Just before they arrived, she told them She would go back home to get her coat and join them shortly. There was nothing to worry about; everything seemed normal, even beautiful.

From the dabke and songs... to the smoke and the explosion. Amer approached the square, and the signs of joy and celebration became clearer. People were dancing, children were laughing, and a fire burned in the center, a symbol of burning hope. He held his two children's hands tightly, as if he wanted to preserve that moment forever, but forever that night lasted only a moment.

A massive explosion roared behind them, a sound that pierced the joy and shattered the tranquility of their souls. In a single second, the songs turned to screams, and the laughter to chaos. Amer felt his body thrown about, like a leaf in a whirlwind. He fell to the ground a few meters away, disoriented, but not unconscious.

Mohammed and Ahmed... and searching through the smoke. He opened his eyes with difficulty, and the first thing he looked for wasn't himself, but his two children. He called out to them, but no sound came out. He tried to see them, but the place was filled with smoke, blood, and martyrs.

Then the paramedics carried him away to... At Al-Hikma Hospital, where he remained caught between pain and waiting, he kept asking, repeating the same question: "Where are Muhammad and Ahmad?" But the answer was always the same: they were fine.

The painful truth...an unbearable absence. He was then transferred to hospitals in Qamishlo, where his wounds became more pronounced: shrapnel all over his body, fractures, and repeated surgeries. Yet it wasn't the physical pain that tormented him, but the silence surrounding the answer to his question. He felt that something was wrong.

Two days later, Amer returned home, carried, unable to move. Only then did the truth come to light: his children were not well; they had never returned.

Two laughs turned to memories. Muhammad and Ahmad, the two children who had filled his life with joy just days before, were martyred, and now their memory haunted his heart. He couldn't grasp it easily. He lived as if they were still there, buying them clothes, imagining their voices in the house, seeing them in the corners of the rooms. The loss was too great to comprehend and too heavy to bear.

A new light despite the painful memory. As the years passed, it began life returns, tentatively. He was blessed with three children: a son and two daughters. When his first son was born, he didn't hesitate to name him Muhammad. It wasn't compensation, for some losses are irreplaceable, but it was an attempt to cling to a glimmer of light.

Newroz through different eyes

Today, Amer still fears what accompanies Newroz, but he believes that the Newroz flame will bring hope and renewal. Although he attends it standing apart from the crowds, observing from a distance, his heart torn between the past and the present, joy for him is no longer as simple as it once was; it has become tinged with caution and memories.

Nevertheless, Amer Jajo says, "Newroz will not stop. No matter how much fear tries to steal joy, life remains stronger." I prepared myself, my children, and their clothes to celebrate Nowruz this year among the crowds.” The father of the two children… an enduring memory. Amer Jajo is still known in the city of Hasakah as “the father of the two children,” as he has placed their picture on the back of his yellow car, as if they accompany him on every road, every day, every moment. On the eve of Newroz in 2015, ISIS mercenaries detonated two car bombs in the Mufti neighborhood of Hasakah, killing 53 civilians, including the two children, who were lighting the Newroz torch.

ANHA