DEARBORN — Even though Arab Americans live far from the wars and terror happening in the Middle East, most are consumed by the thought of losing loved ones or have experienced terror firsthand.

Whether their Arab nationality is Iraqi, Palestinian, Syrian, Yemeni or Lebanese, they all share similar experiences of war and persevere in hopes of giving back to the people still suffering.

Some Arab American college students from the community shared their experiences with The Arab American News and their never-ending worry for family back home.

Nour Nasiri, a 23-year-old born to Iraqi parents in Syria, immigrated to the U.S. at age 6 through the United Nations.

“I lived in Damascus, 10 minutes away from the shrine of Sayeda Zeinab (granddaughter of Prophet Muhammad) in a neighborhood called ‘Share3 al Ameen’ (Al Ameen Street),” she said. “Some of it is all right, but lots of the places I used to visit are in bad shape.”

Nasiri misses her childhood in Syria and said the war there hurts her just as much as the war in Iraq does.

“That’s my home country in a way as well,” she said.

At 11-years-old, Nasiri visited Iraq for the first time after staying at her grandmother’s house in Iran that summer. Her parents had been disconnected from family in Iraq for 30 years, so they were longing to visit their home country and show it to her.

At the time, right after Saddam’s fall, no government ruled and militias controlled most of the borders.

On their way back to Iran, Nasiri had a terrifying experience she could never forget. Her mother made it across with the luggage, but she and her father were held back by sudden gunfire behind them.

“I didn’t really understand what was going on, only that we needed to cross back into Iran so we could get home,” she said. “The situation turned dangerous within a span of a couple minutes. One moment, my dad and I are walking across to get to the fence and gate dividing the two countries, the next I was hearing gunshots sounding off right behind me.”

Her father grasped her arm and bolted through a crowd of people who had been trying to escape Iraq. Once they got to the gate, the official didn’t believe they were trying to leave legally.

“My dad had to take out all of the paperwork and prove it to them before they let us in,” Nasiri said. “And, all the while, the militia men were screaming at us and I could still hear the gunshots being fired behind us.”

Nasiri said she won’t take the opportunity she received in America for granted. She currently attends the School of Medicine at Wayne State University and hopes to give back to the war-torn countries.

“I feel a certain sense of guilt that I have family and friends who continue to live in such a tenuous environment, unsure of what’s going to happen to upheave their lives,” she said. “I also feel very powerless that I can’t do anything on my end to stop that and give them the same opportunity I luckily received at having a better life. But I think that’s why I’m working towards what I am, because I know deep down I’m going to go back and do my best to help, even if it is years later.”

Rima Achour experienced the 2006 war in Lebanon, which started on July 12 and ended on August 14 that year.

“I did stay in Lebanon the whole summer,” she said. “The first 10 days of the war I was in my village in the south, but after those 10 days I left with my family to Tripoli, where it was much safer, and stayed there till the end of the war.”

During that time, the south was targeted the most by the Israeli army, so escaping her village— Shakra— was the best option.

“The whole situation was scary,” she said. “Just the idea that you are not safe and that you might be hit with a bomb any minute makes you scared and uncomfortable. Bombs were everywhere and a couple of bombs dropped near us. They were even bombing the cars, so we were targeted anywhere.”

Achour clarified that this experience strengthened her and made her appreciate everything in life instead of weakening her. Living in America doesn’t “tear her apart from Lebanon.” Instead, her thoughts are with her family and the victims of terrorist attacks there.

The 23-year-old is majoring in biology at the University of Michigan-Dearborn and hopes to give back to victims of war and terror in Lebanon.

“Every time I hear about a bombing on the news, I remember the war and the whole situation I was in and I feel the pain that all the families feel after losing their loved ones,” she said. “I would help them to the best of my ability by giving to the ones in need or helping anyone who is affected by all the conflicts get through this hard time.”

At 15-years-old, Zaman Alwishah lost her maternal uncle to an explosion in Iraq in May 2007. Her parents did not pick her up from school that day, so her friend offered her a ride.

“I felt uneasy when I saw over 20 cars around our house,” she said. “I opened the door to our house and it was full of people crying. At that moment, I knew something terrible had happened.”

She recalled crying with her mother and embracing her tight right when she walked in, before finding out what had happened.

Zaman Alwishah’s Uncle

Alwishah said her uncle, an officer in the Iraqi army, was “martyred” in Ramadi. She described him as a man of great character, easygoing, and content.

“I knew him so well,” she said. “In fact, I was talking to him a few weeks before we heard of the devastating news and he was telling me to visit them, so we can all take a trip together.”

After losing her uncle, she had nightmares the first year and stopped eating for a while. She hated seeing her mother sleepless and crying all night. Later that year, doctors diagnosed her with a stomach ulcer caused by stress.

“I feel like the terror there haunts us here because we’re always afraid of the worst, which is losing a loved one in a blink of an eye,” Alwishah said.

She added that she panics every time someone from Iraq calls at night because she immediately thinks of the worst-case scenario— another loss.

Alwishah and her family escaped the war in Iraq in 1996, seeking refuge in Syria. They immigrated to the U.S. three years later. She had to miss four years of elementary school because of the war.

“I still feel sad every time I pass by an elementary school because I didn’t get to experience the first four grades of it,” the electrical engineer major said.

Like Nasiri, she also hopes to give back to Iraq.

“I hope to help orphans in Iraq one day Inshallah (God-willing),” she said. “They’re the future of the country.”