With four children, close to her, she scanned a distinguished selection of vegetables on the screen in a small booth, by weighing what the utensils could collect with limited sales options.
The oldest child of the Asma, the overwhelmed nine-year-old girl with a red tape with a tape and a pink trainer emerged the youngest child, a cherubic one-year-old girl punched in a padded jacket.
She adjusted his sister’s hooded jacket, which slid, causing the little ones to suffer until the dust was over his face.
She protects her little sister toward his chest, drawing warm nodding approval from his mother.
Asma spends most of his days with his children because he does not feel that educational facilities in the camp meet their needs.
As she spoke, her two sons broke out in spontaneous playfight.
Her expression betrayed deep melancholy. “It’s hard to raise children here,” she admitted her gaze dropped her.

The monotony of everyday life in the camp, she explained, can often lead to children who fight and can be difficult to control her boys.
On top of that, in her seven years in the camp, Asma saw prices rose to the point that it is now hard to buy enough food to feed her growing children.
Non-governmental organizations distribute daily foods in al-Hall, but many detainees complement these finished meals and basic ingredients with fresh products, using money that have been sent to medical and educational facilities operating non-governmental organizations.
The ASMA family has lived through the most reimbursed period of camp, which has seen more than 100 killings from 2020. until 2022. and left a deep psychological impact on the children’s children, who make up more than half their population.
In 2021, according to the children, two inhabitants were killed each week, making the camp, per capita, one of the most dangerous places in the world.
It is a period that is Abed, an Iraqi welder Turkmen from Mosul who preferred only one name, kept his four children in his tent at all times.
When Al Jazeera met with 39 years of abeven, she worked under a family repair shelter on a side street from the market. Trade, calculation together with pieces of wood and plastic plates, services of any machine that the camp detainees should repair.
He led his adult son, which in his early 20s, methodically through a complex welding process, two smiling on top of each other as they shared a private joke and wind through the ears.

Abed picked up the welded torch as his son held a piece of metal in place with a pair of laces.
He learned his children his store, but yes, he said, just that I could “survive every day,” by adding that they will not give them tools to enjoy full and fulfilled life.
“The future of my children is gone,” Abed said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. “They missed too much school.”
Several organizations for assistance in water education, but they are more suspicious of the knowledge that they attacked them, so Abed believes that it is safer to guard their children until they can go home.
“We had a good life in Mosul. My children went to school, and everything was fine, but now,” Deeply breaths, “too time passed.”
“It’s hard to swallow as a parent because school is everything.”
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2025-03-12 08:41:00