For seven years, a Syrian mother wandered from place to place for one purpose: to bring her sons to safety. In Amman, Jordan, volunteer Lamiya Lin recalls:

This is a sad story. We want to pay tribute and say goodbye to a great Syrian mother.―Lamiya Lin, Tzu Chi Jordan volunteer

Her name was Nayimeh Alhomsi, also known as Um Abdul Aziz. Through war and displacement, she pushed forward like a salmon swimming upstream. She collapsed just before the finish line, but had already completed her life’s most important task. Her story with Tzu Chi began in 2013.  

Childhood cut short, shelter found

From Daraa in southern Syria, Nayimeh raised twin boys, Abdul Aziz and Abdul Munaeim, alone after losing contact with their father before the boys were one.
When war broke out in 2011, she fled with them to Jordan, then lived in Zaatari Refugee Camp. There she learned that her husband had died. She later left the camp for a shelter for orphans and single mothers. When that shelter closed for lack of funds, she searched again and, in 2013, moved with her five‑year‑olds into “Tzu Xin House” in Amman.  

Since 2017, Tzu Chi Jordan has been covering the rent for Tzu Xin House, a 22‑unit building sheltering more than 30 single‑mother families. Volunteers provided food, schooling, and medical help, but also encouraged residents to visit poorer Jordanian families, helping them see that they, too, could care for others.  

Nayimeh and her twins lived there for seven years. To support them, she cooked for others, took small catering orders, and cleaned houses, earning very little. When the boys turned 13, they tried to help by doing casual work, standing outside a takeaway coffee stall for long hours to help call in customers.

Learning to give, even with very little

On Christmas Eve 2016, Tzu Chi volunteers from Taiwan visited Tzu Xin House for the first time, bringing supplies and scholarships for 29 students. Songs, smiles, and hugs quickly bridged language and cultural gaps, and children listened intently to the “bamboo bank” story—about saving a little to help those in need.

In 2017, more students received help with fees, and an Iraqi refugee doctor, Dr. Hala, began free clinics at the House through a cash-for-work arrangement.

As contact deepened, Nayimeh often took her sons along to distributions, including outreach to poor families living along Amman’s “Airport Road.” After one such visit, she told volunteer Mohamed Khir Roz that she wanted to join every Airport Road activity and cook for the families there. Though she had little, she insisted on using her own ingredients at home to prepare food for those worse off. Through this, she embraced a path of helping others while still in need herself. 

A dream reached, and a sudden goodbye

In late November 2020, after years of waiting, Norway accepted Nayimeh and her sons for resettlement. For many Syrian refugees, such legal migration comes only after repeated interviews and long uncertainty.  

On November 30, full of hope, 13‑year‑old Abdul Aziz and Abdul Munaeim flew out of Amman with their mother. Mid‑flight, she developed chest pain. After landing, Norwegian authorities arranged transport to their new home. Ten minutes later, she collapsed. An ambulance rushed her to the hospital, but she could not be revived.  

News sent back to Tzu Xin House left the other mothers in shock; some fainted. Volunteers were stunned and saddened. CEO of Tzu Chi Jordan, Chiou‑Hwa Chen (陳秋華) sought help from Tzu Chi volunteers in Europe, but strict Norwegian child‑protection and immigration rules made direct contact with the boys impossible.  

Under Norway’s protection system, a Syrian family living downstairs took in the twins. Newly arrived in a foreign country, they now had to face losing the person who had protected them all their lives.  

At first, they refused to believe it, telling others their mother was only in hospital and would return. Only at the funeral, seeing her buried, did they accept that she would never come home.  

Growing up alone in a new country

Over the next few years, the brothers had to navigate both grief and adaptation—learning a new language and culture while processing their loss. For a time, they fell into depression.  

By 2026, they had begun to find their footing. Now 19, Abdul Aziz is studying interior design; his twin, Abdul Munaeim, is learning petroleum refining technology. Without parents, they lean on each other as they build a life in Norway.

Mission accomplished, hope carried forward

For Syrian refugees, gaining Western citizenship means not only safety but a legal future. In Jordan, they may speak the language and their children can attend public school, but without nationality, they lack protection and formal work opportunities, even with university degrees.  

Against this backdrop, mothers like Nayimeh do everything they can—often at great risk—to send their children to the safest, most promising places they know. For her, that place was Norway.  

Volunteers in Jordan now pray that she rests in peace and that her sons grow up surrounded by kindness. They also hope that, one day, the brothers will pass on the chance they received to others in hardship.  

Nayimeh’s journey ended soon after she reached her destination. Yet in her sons’ lives, and in the memories of those who knew her, her love and courage live on.

Written by Lamiya Lin (林綠卿), Felicia Hsu (許斐莉)  

Translated by Mindy Chen (陳敏理)