I was born in Yabroud in Syria. In 2013 Jabhat al-Nusra – who are like Islamic State – came to my town and started to control it, creating an Eastern Court, Sharia Law. Other musicians were forbidden to work. The fighters would stand between houses shooting at planes and use people as human shields. There were many battles, many places bombed. They were there on the streets, in the city, controlling everything.
I’m a professional musician, a viola player. I used to work with the Syrian National Symphony Orchestra and taught at the Damascus Conservatoire. I was part of the Orchestra of Syrian Musicians and toured Europe with a company called Africa Express with Damon Albarn in 2016. After the tour I was supposed to go back to Syria, but many attacks happened there in the 15 days I was away, so myself and some friends decided to stay and claim asylum.
There were nine of us, all musicians. I was the only one who could speak English, not good, but better than the others, so I volunteered to speak about asylum. They didn’t expect so many at once. After the interviews they handcuffed us to take us from the airport to a van, then to a detention centre close by. We were shocked; we were treated like criminals. I was strong, but one friend collapsed, crying. I told her to be strong. We’d just finished a 15-date tour being treated like professionals and staying in places like the Hilton. We were there for seven days. We had no luggage. They took everything, including my instrument.
I’d left my husband and my son, who was only three-and-a-half at the time. I had no way of contacting them. In our culture and for my husband, it wasn’t acceptable for a mother to leave her child. After a year’s separation my son was affected by it. It’s still hard to communicate with him. He’s angry. When I left, I didn’t know I was going to leave him. He asked, ‘Where’s my Mum?’ for a year. He needs to feel settled somewhere.
After the detention centre we were taken to hostels, some of us to Leeds, and some, including me, to Birmingham.