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The family home was affordable because of its location, right next to a halfway house.
The ex-cons weren’t too thrilled about their nonwhite neighbors. Assuming the family was Pakistani, they would yell, “Pakis, go home!
Her husband had been wanting to go there; he’d been talking about it for weeks, but she had vehemently objected. The country had become one of the most dangerous places on earth, with rebel groups, terrorists, and warlords all fighting with the ruthless government. Scrawled in broken English, it read, “Welcome in Syria.” s a girl growing up in a suburban town north of London, Tania Joya liked the usual things—riding her bike, hanging posters of fluffy animals on her walls, and dancing around her room to house and garage music—but she felt unwanted, both at home and in her community.
She confronted her husband, who confirmed her suspicions. Born in 1983, she had been given the name Joya Choudhury, but her family, friends, and teachers called her Tania, a name her mom preferred.
“If I snuck out with bare arms, Bengali men would say, ‘Don’t you have any shame? Tania never felt close to her father; she described him as verbally abusive. In primary school, she had a mix of middle-class and working-class friends but faced slurs from bullies, who called her “darkie” and “Paki.” She refused to back down, talking right back to them.
“I thought I had been living a lie, being ignorant of Islam,” she said.They had most recently been living in Egypt but had been forced to flee that country amid the chaos that followed the 2013 ouster of the Muslim Brotherhood–led government.They’d headed for the eastern Turkish city of Gaziantep, about thirty miles from the Syrian border, where people spoke Arabic and her husband could find work.” Sometimes, they’d use the roof of the family’s car as a toilet.“I remember being five years old and wanting to run away,” she said.