He wakes up everyday still thinking about his wife and daughter, yet it has been five years already. Because how can one forget two African Union soldiers walking in through the small metal doorway each holding a rifle on the night of his fifteenth wedding anniversary? Asad sure can’t. The two men quickly walks into the one-roomed home for Asad, his wife, and their 12 year old daughter. They murmur for Asad to sit aside and not make a sound. He knows well enough that if he were to make a sound, both of those rifles will end his life. But more importantly, he knows that after he’s gone, his wife’s and daughter’s lives will be even worse than it’s about to be… Large bullets of tears streams down his wife’s agonizing face, along with the loud shrilling tone of his daughter’s cries will haunt him for the rest of his life. Asad knows how common it is for the Union soldiers to storm into civilian's places at night, however he can’t stand that it has to be the two loves of his life. He goes to what he thought is the less-corrupted judge in a nearby town to redeem for his family. What he comes back to is his wife and daughter both stripped naked, with several slashes on his daughter’s back as she laid in a puddle of her own blood and his wife slouched and tied up against a kitchen chair as blood dripped down to the ground from her sliced open throat. With those imprints clear in his head, Asad decides he has nothing to leave behind but his corrupt country. He does as thousands others have done, boards a ship to Malta, in search of asylum. Because what he has experienced is basically political prosecution right? As he sits amongst the other 289 Somalis each with their own tears and scarring memories, the thick musk scent fills the air as waves crashed against the side of the ship, Asad slowly closes his eyes. When he awakes, several Caucasian men dressed in white quarantine suits with a huge breathing mouthpiece orders them to move up to the deck and sit in rows. From then on, there were a lot of yelling in both Somali and English, along with a lot of pushing, shoving, and patting down. Finally, Asad along with the rest of his people pile onto a bus. All are eager and excited but have no idea where they were being brought to. Asad looks out the window and sees sun glistening on the ocean, lush green grass with flowers blossoming; something he has never dreamt of. His dream quickly diminishes as Asad and the 289 Somalis are brought to this 3-story white painted house with prison-like front gates and bar cells blocking anything bigger than a fly to enter through the windows. Asad may not have seen much in his life but he knows this isn’t it.