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My childhood books in Damascus

When I sat down to write this blog yesterday, I tried so hard to recall my childhood, what it felt like to giggle and play with abandon, and how it would relate to or connect with the Syrian children today.

The war in Syria apparently has not only affected our individual and collective memories but it also left me with holes and gaps in memories to bring back different phases and moments of my life.

I do remember, however, the limited choice of children’s books and magazines, and even those weren’t readily available to us children. But that scarcity just made them more precious, more desirable and more valuable to me as a kid.
I would eagerly wait for the monthly magazines, especially the few that were beautifully written, illustrated and laminated as my mother brought them to me or I enjoyed buying them myself from the nearest shop. The glossy colours made a huge difference to all of us kids in Syria and I used to carefully keep them and repeatedly read them until I got new ones. They…

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