Sat on the dusty ground with the heat of the sun beating down on her, Nur looked exhausted. Arms wrapped around her knees, head bowed. I wondered if she had the energy to even get up again. Next to her was a suitcase and a couple of plastic bags, her whole life packed away. Three young children huddled behind her, their hands clutching at the back of their mothers clothes. Tiny, frail young lives who have witnessed conflict and terrors unimaginable. The eldest, a girl, looked up at me as I approached. Big eyes set in a hollow face stared out and through me without a flicker of emotion.
It was a scene I had witnessed a thousand times before while covering the migrant marches across Europe. Families by the side of the road looking for the energy to take another step towards Germany, Sweden or the UK. Children unable to play as they had lost their innocence.
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