read the words of this Christian man from Syria, that recount how his father and sister were murdered and burned by Muslims. Read this story, and realize how tormenting, unendurable, and horrifying the life of a Christian is under the Islamic yoke. The author’s name is Kamil Toume, and this is the story:
‘In many cases we see tremendous acts of courage, bravery and fortitude in people being able to cope with terrible situations. Sadly true as long as there has been a true war but what happened is just a barbaric action which is probably unavoidable even by brave people.
I am not going to delve into the whole scene there, which is becoming common and clearly known for everyone, but I need to shed the light on some of the horrifying facts which happened on 28 May 13 in my Village (Duwair).
On that date, my village was sentenced to death and destruction by the militants who ruined every part of the village and massacred the peaceful residents savagely.
They did not come for freedom, they were not liberators or cause defenders, they were monsters in the truest sense of the word, bigots injected with contempt and poisonous sectarianism. With all bitterness the victims were my family, my father and sister, “the peaceful angels” as I would call them. Every time, I phoned them to Syria, they replied, “We are Ok and nothing to fear, do not worry about us, no one would harm us, we are peaceful people”. They were the scapegoat of the killers who massacred them with cold blood then burnt them with full disgrace.
Was the small village rolled into the vortex of destruction for political reason? Absolutely No, It was attacked primarily for the sole reason of being neutral and peaceful without hiding the fact that most of the locals are Christians.
Words are insufficient to describe the extent to which my father was united with his land and home. He did not agree to leave his home despite the ongoing violence, fully convinced that the current turbulence is soon to end. He did not know that extremism would reach his home to blacken the white and make the black darker.
Undoubtedly, my father was a patriotic man, I got to remember all his talks when he was telling me that I have to return back home to continue my life in Syria and to care for our house who built tirelessly over the years and to water the olive trees whose leaves speak volumes about hard work and determination.
His story with the land is silent, comprehensive friendship, an intercourse beyond the need of words. Through the keen morning air, keeping time to the pulsing of the heart that is moved with the same eager desire—to conquer space, to devour the distance, to attain the goal of the journey. He entered with open eyes and brave heart to the final stadium of the journey as he was always telling me: When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero.. He was peaceful as a dove, stronger than a stone, passionate than a mother.
Near the strong will father, she (Abeer, my sister) scented the danger; it was not in her heart to fly from it —- only to be prepared for it, and to meet it wisely, as a good daughter should do. The evil was close and silent as the tomb; not a leaf rustled, not a bird sang, Abeer disregarded every breath of anxiety and dismay and stood firmly with her father to say the final word. The words are endless, to talk about the tender heart sister who became a mother after the death of my mother in 2009; her only concern was to take care of my father and looking after us even when we are away from home. Was their only mistake was just sitting home peacefully?
Criminals came to extinguish the two beams of the sun, but let me assure you that their souls are still glittering like a rainbow in the sky and will not fade and die, for this reason, I would not say goodbye . God Bless their souls ever.’
After reading this story, please know that we are trying to deliver Kamil him from persecution. He can come to England, but does not know anyone in that country. So I ask all those who live in England, if you wish to meet and assist him, contact us as [email protected]