Child refugees scarred by war

By Annie Ramos, CNN
Published 8:32 PM EST, Sun November 8, 2015
Walaa, a 5-year-old Syrian refugee, cries every night at her camp in Lebanon. Resting her head on the pillow is horrible, she said, because nighttime is horrible. That was when the attacks happened back home. By day, Walaa's mother often builds a little house out of pillows to teach her there is nothing to be afraid of.
Walaa, a 5-year-old Syrian refugee, cries every night at her camp in Lebanon. Resting her head on the pillow is horrible, she said, because nighttime is horrible. That was when the attacks happened back home. By day, Walaa's mother often builds a little house out of pillows to teach her there is nothing to be afraid of.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Fatima, 9, sits in bed in Norberg, Sweden. Every night, she said, she dreams that she's falling from a ship. After two years at a refugee camp in Lebanon, Fatima and her family boarded an overcrowded boat in Libya. On the deck of the boat, a woman gave birth to her baby after 12 hours in the scorching sun. The baby was stillborn and thrown overboard. Fatima saw everything. When their boat started to take on water, they were picked up by the Italian Coast Guard.
Fatima, 9, sits in bed in Norberg, Sweden. Every night, she said, she dreams that she's falling from a ship. After two years at a refugee camp in Lebanon, Fatima and her family boarded an overcrowded boat in Libya. On the deck of the boat, a woman gave birth to her baby after 12 hours in the scorching sun. The baby was stillborn and thrown overboard. Fatima saw everything. When their boat started to take on water, they were picked up by the Italian Coast Guard.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Moyad, 5, sleeps in a hospital in Amman, Jordan. He and his mother were on their way to a market in Syria when a bomb went off. Moyad's mother died instantly. Moyad was airlifted to Jordan with shrapnel lodged in his head, back and pelvis.
Moyad, 5, sleeps in a hospital in Amman, Jordan. He and his mother were on their way to a market in Syria when a bomb went off. Moyad's mother died instantly. Moyad was airlifted to Jordan with shrapnel lodged in his head, back and pelvis.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Fara, 2, loves soccer. Her dad tries to make balls for her by crumpling up anything he can find, but they don't last long. Every night, he says goodnight to Fara and her big sister in the hope that tomorrow will bring them a proper ball to play with.
Fara, 2, loves soccer. Her dad tries to make balls for her by crumpling up anything he can find, but they don't last long. Every night, he says goodnight to Fara and her big sister in the hope that tomorrow will bring them a proper ball to play with.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Abdullah, 5, sleeps outside a railway station in Belgrade, Serbia. He saw the killing of his sister in their home in Daraa, Syria. He is still in shock and has nightmares every night, his mother says. Abdullah is tired and has a blood disease, but his mother does not have any money to buy medicine for him.
Abdullah, 5, sleeps outside a railway station in Belgrade, Serbia. He saw the killing of his sister in their home in Daraa, Syria. He is still in shock and has nightmares every night, his mother says. Abdullah is tired and has a blood disease, but his mother does not have any money to buy medicine for him.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Shiraz, 9, rests at a refugee camp in Suruc, Turkey. She was 3 months old when she was stricken with a severe fever. A doctor diagnosed polio and advised her parents to not spend too much money on medicine. Then the war came. Her mother, Leila, starts crying when she describes how she wrapped her daughter in a blanket and carried her over the border from Kobani, Syria, to Turkey. Shiraz, who can't talk, received a wooden cradle in the refugee camp. She lies there day and night.
Shiraz, 9, rests at a refugee camp in Suruc, Turkey. She was 3 months old when she was stricken with a severe fever. A doctor diagnosed polio and advised her parents to not spend too much money on medicine. Then the war came. Her mother, Leila, starts crying when she describes how she wrapped her daughter in a blanket and carried her over the border from Kobani, Syria, to Turkey. Shiraz, who can't talk, received a wooden cradle in the refugee camp. She lies there day and night.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Mohammed, 13, lies in a hospital bed in Nizip, Turkey. Back home in Aleppo, Syria, he used to enjoy walking around the city looking at houses. Now many of his favorite buildings are gone, blown to pieces. Lying in his bed, Mohammed wonders whether he will ever fulfill his dream of becoming an architect. "The strangest thing about war is that you get used to feeling scared. I wouldn't have believed that," he said.
Mohammed, 13, lies in a hospital bed in Nizip, Turkey. Back home in Aleppo, Syria, he used to enjoy walking around the city looking at houses. Now many of his favorite buildings are gone, blown to pieces. Lying in his bed, Mohammed wonders whether he will ever fulfill his dream of becoming an architect. "The strangest thing about war is that you get used to feeling scared. I wouldn't have believed that," he said.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Ahmed, 6, sleeps on the ground in Horgos, Serbia. The adults were still sitting around after midnight, formulating plans for how they were going to get out of Hungary without registering themselves with the authorities. Ahmed carries his own bag over the long stretches that his family walks by foot. "He is brave and only cries sometimes in the evenings," says his uncle, who has taken care of him since his father was killed in their hometown in northern Syria.
Ahmed, 6, sleeps on the ground in Horgos, Serbia. The adults were still sitting around after midnight, formulating plans for how they were going to get out of Hungary without registering themselves with the authorities. Ahmed carries his own bag over the long stretches that his family walks by foot. "He is brave and only cries sometimes in the evenings," says his uncle, who has taken care of him since his father was killed in their hometown in northern Syria.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Amir, 20 months old, was born a refugee. His mother believes he was traumatized in the womb. "Amir has never spoken a single word," she said. In the plastic tent where the family now lives in Zahle, Lebanon, Amir has no toys. But he plays with whatever he can find on the ground. "He laughs a lot, even though he doesn't talk," his mother said.
Amir, 20 months old, was born a refugee. His mother believes he was traumatized in the womb. "Amir has never spoken a single word," she said. In the plastic tent where the family now lives in Zahle, Lebanon, Amir has no toys. But he plays with whatever he can find on the ground. "He laughs a lot, even though he doesn't talk," his mother said.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Abdul Karim Addo, 17, sleeps in Omonoia Square in Athens, Greece. He has no money left. He bought a ferry ticket to Athens with his last euros. Now he spends the night where hundreds of refugees are arriving every day. He is able to borrow a telephone and call home to his mother in Syria, but he is not able to tell her how bad things are. "She cries and is scared for my sake, and I don't want to worry her more," he said. He unfolds his blanket in the middle of the square and curls up in the fetal position. "I dream of two things: to sleep in a bed again and to hug my younger sister."
Abdul Karim Addo, 17, sleeps in Omonoia Square in Athens, Greece. He has no money left. He bought a ferry ticket to Athens with his last euros. Now he spends the night where hundreds of refugees are arriving every day. He is able to borrow a telephone and call home to his mother in Syria, but he is not able to tell her how bad things are. "She cries and is scared for my sake, and I don't want to worry her more," he said. He unfolds his blanket in the middle of the square and curls up in the fetal position. "I dream of two things: to sleep in a bed again and to hug my younger sister."
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA
Mahdi, 1, sleeps deeply despite hundreds of refugees climbing around him in Horgos. They were protesting against not being able to travel further through Hungary. On the other side of the border, hundreds of police were standing.
Mahdi, 1, sleeps deeply despite hundreds of refugees climbing around him in Horgos. They were protesting against not being able to travel further through Hungary. On the other side of the border, hundreds of police were standing.
Magnus Wennman/Rex USA

Story highlights

Syria's crisis has had a profound effect on its children

Magnus Wennman photographed many of them as they slept in refugee camps

CNN  — 

When Swedish photographer Magnus Wennman puts his 5-year-old son to sleep at night, he knows how important it is for his son to feel safe as he goes to bed.

But when he started taking photos of the thousands of children fleeing the war in Syria, he realized an overwhelming amount of children went to bed afraid.

The rise of ISIS, coupled with a civil war, has forced 10.6 million Syrians from their homes since 2011. Many Syrians have joined the deluge of refugees seeing asylum in Europe, while others are living in refugee camps in Turkey, Lebanon and Jordan.

Wennman visited refugee camps earlier this year as a staff photographer for the Swedish newspaper Aftonbladet.

Photographer Magnus Wennman
Photographer Magnus Wennman
Magnus Wennman/aftonbladet

“I was struck by the children there; they are the most innocent,” said Wennman, who believes it is difficult for outsiders to care about a conflict that has been going on for years and may be hard to understand.

“But there is nothing hard to understand about how children need a safe place to sleep,” he said. “That is easy to understand. Nothing is too complicated about that.”

Wennman also went to Serbia, Hungary and Greece, photographing as many Syrian children as he could for his collection “Where the Children Sleep.”

“They have lost some hope,” Wennman noted. “It takes very much for a child to stop being a child and to stop having fun, even in really bad places.”

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    One poignant memory from Wennman’s journey was when he arrived in Hungary a day after the country had closed their borders.

    “They put up a 4-meter-high (13-foot-high) metal fence,” Wennman recalled. “To see the ones who arrived too late, who were stuck behind the gate and so desperate, it was heartbreaking. Children were sleeping outside the gates of Hungary.”

    This collection became a job unlike any other for Wennman, who has traveled the world on various assignments.

    “You are taught you have to turn off your feeling and use your camera as protection,” he said.

    But capturing the haunting and serene images of Syrian children affected Wennman and made this experience different.

    “This time, this project was really personal,” he said. “I tried to do this series with a lot of respect, and I hope it shows.”

    Magnus Wennman is a photographer based in Stockholm, Sweden. You can follow him on Instagram.