"Part of me wonders if I’ll ever see my home again – it feels very far on this dark night. My companions are exhausted, hungry and impatient, but those thoughts are not mine. The child – the small boy – his face is imprinted into my mind. He looks so small, so fragile, so frightened.

We have come so far, clinging to whatever we can – the side of the dinghy, the destination, safety, each other. Our possessions are few, all we could carry – I am grateful now for brevity – I have walked so many miles, and the hands of my loved ones are all I care to hold in this moment. Strangers must think me mad, but they do not know my story. Houses destroyed, the hospital I served in, my children’s schools, whole cities, wiped out in a night. The fear, the lack of anything we needed – food, security, purpose. There was no alternative. The child, I hope there is a future for him in this new country, for all of us. Lord, guide us there safely, I pray.

I can’t help thinking about my wife back home. She’s quite used to me announcing a new path, a journey, a quest. Not usually one that takes me so far away, but she’s supportive and understanding. Strangers must think me mad, but they do not know my story."