As a nana living in Sunderland listening to the increasing hysteria on migrants, I wonder what it would feel like to be a Syrian nana?
What if our roles were reversed? Would I plead with my family to “go, go now, run”.
What would it feel like to try to sell things no one wants to buy?
When they come to say “goodbye” would I hug them and say “when you get there people will know you are good people”?
Then I hear about the drownings and killings, the closed roads and blocked tunnels, the razor wire fencing and armed guards?
My family are despised and unwanted, but then I’m not a Syrian nana – I live safe and in shame in Sunderland.