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The Life of Momo
The Life of Momo
The Life of Momo
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The Life of Momo

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How does one convince a 14-year-old to escape from his home country on his own, and face the challenge of smuggling himself all the way to Europe? What drives a child to such a dramatic decision, and what are the consequences that can come with it?

In my autobiography "The Life of Momo" you will be able to read about my long and arduous journey alone from my home country Syria to Sweden in 2015, and the exciting events that took place during the 11 days of the trip. The reader will gain insight into my development that I have undergone as a person in recent years. During the journey through 10 different countries, I had to face a lot of obstacles. For example, fleeing from police agencies, negotiating with human smugglers, and risking my life at sea across the Mediterranean in a small inflatable boat with more than twice the number of passengers that it was intended for.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateJan 24, 2020
ISBN9781796075267
The Life of Momo

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    Book preview

    The Life of Momo - Mohamed Alhomsy

    Copyright © 2019 by Mohamed Alhomsy.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

    in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

    without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

    Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If the book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as unsold or destroyed and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    Rev. date: 12/21/2019

    Xlibris

    1-888-795-4274

    www.Xlibris.com

    806409

    CONTENTS

    A Short Introduction

    Chapter 1 Not Living the Syrian Dream

    Chapter 2 The Point Of No Return

    Chapter 3 Turkey

    Chapter 4 Greece

    Chapter 5 Macedonia

    Chapter 6 Serbia

    Chapter 7 Croatia

    Chapter 8 Slovenia

    Chapter 9 Austria

    Chapter 10 Germany

    Chapter 11 Denmark

    Chapter 12 Sweden

    Epilogue

    A Childhood In Pictures

    About the Author

    Just a brief dedication

    I would like to dedicate this book to all my

    friends and family whom have always

    supported, cared and been there for me when I

    needed It the most.

    Special thanks to :

    - My parents

    - My football team and trainers in

    Lindome GIF

    - My friends

    - The Ridell family

    - The Lanserius family

    - My godman Josephine Lindholm

    - My social secretaries

    - My teachers

    A SHORT INTRODUCTION

    Hey there, and welcome to my book. My name is Mohamed Alhomsy but I am more commonly known as Momo by my friends and family. In this book I will be talking about my long journey from Syria to Sweden. I will be going through the life changing events that formed me into the person I am today, the events that took place under 11 days when I was on the run and illegally smuggling myself all the way from my homeland to Europe. I will describe the things that I have been through using my own words and I will not pretend to be someone that I am not. I will therefore express myself the way I think fits best to insure you a good reading experience. My goal is not to impress you or make you feel sad for me, but to spread my story with the hope that it will inspire you and give you a new perspective on your life and the way that you should be living it. And please, try to enjoy yourself.

    A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step

    41120.png

    CHAPTER 1

    Not Living the Syrian Dream

    It all started one day in January 2002, the day I was born. I don’t really know the exact details of the day I was born, but what I do know is that my father decided to register me a couple of days after my birth, on the fifth of January. And it has since then been my birthday. I was born in a hospital with a name that I will not even bother to mention. You will probably not be able to pronounce it so I will just skip it. Anyways, I was brought into this world at a hospital on the outer skirt of the capital of Syria, Damascus. The city was at that time thriving and peaceful, one of the safest cities in the world and a very popular destination for tourists traveling from all the different corners of the planet. I still remember how it once used to be before the civil war broke out. My memory has become blurry though and it is sometimes hard to recall some of the details. It was a city like any other big Arabic city, loud and densely populated. Me and my family have ever since I can remember lived in an apartment that belonged to my grandmother. She had gotten it as a present from my grandpa but since they had another place in the middle of the city, she chose to let my parents live in it after they got married. It is located somewhere on the outer border of Damascus, only a bus away from the Central Station and all of the markets and big shopping malls. And yes, we do have shopping malls in Syria. If I got a penny for every time someone asked me did you have XXXX in your homeland? then I would have probably be a millionaire by now. Europeans tend to think that Middle Eastern countries are made up to 90% sand dunes and that people take their camels to school and work every day. And while it might be true in some parts, it is still most definitely not the same everywhere. It is understandable that people fall for those common stereotypes that are always projected in movies, news, and TV-series nowadays but never mind it. Back to the subject, so anyway, we lived in my grandma’s apartment that consisted of 2 bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, a toilet and a little backyard on the ground floor. If I would describe my life at that time with two words, then these words are most probably boring and depressing. My day started with waking up at 7 o’clock and going to school. Schools there are among the worst in the world, you could compare a Syrian school with a prison and still not fully express how horrible it is. Most of the teachers were power-mad and hit the students in a variety of different ways. They would casually hit us because of some ridiculously stupid reasons, for ex- ample being 2 minutes late to the lesson, needing to go to the toilet, not doing your homework properly or not doing it at all or not performing well enough on a test. You could even get beaten up by saying a bad joke or calling the teacher by her/his first name. Not to mention having the obligation to always wear your school uniform and not being allowed to grow long hair. As i said, the worst place in the world. I guess that being afraid of my teachers is the reason I always had a good motivation to do my homework and study for the big tests. I am kind of grateful for it in some weird way. It made me develop a habit for studying which I still carry with me further in my life, especially now in high school. It makes it a lot easier for me to handle and organize my studies, but still, it was

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