FORCED TO FLEE TO HOME

Affi Parvizi-Wayne, 56, was just 12 when she escaped the conflict in her country - and left behind her family and everything she knew

Just over seven weeks ago, the world watched helplessly as heartbreaking scenes of war played out on our screens. Buildings bombed, people fleeing with nothing but the clothes on their backs, women and children separated from brave souls volunteering to fight on the frontline... The images are horrifying, and it's easy to assume things are getting better as the war slips further down the news agenda. For most people, having to leave the place they call home in order to survive is a distant, unlikely fear. But for me, it brings back painful memories of the time my family and I had to do just that.

Our home in Iran was a safe and happy place. Mum always cooked as if we were expecting guests and friends and family often popped by, while my dad - Baba, as we called him worked as a diplomat. I loved going to school each day and I had a great circle of friends.

But in 1976, Baba heard rumours of trouble brewing in Iran. So, when I was just 12, I was sent 4,000 miles away to England, to live with my aunt. I'd never felt so scared and alone. I desperately missed my family and my friends, I didn't speak a word of English and everything was different in this new country.

At home, we'd eat rice with every meal and use a spoon and fork. In England, I had to learn how to use a knife to cut up potatoes. And in Iran, mealtimes were a social affair. Mum had an open-door policy, with friends and family welcome to join with a moment's notice. But in England, I was confused when I was sent home from a friend's house as they set the table for dinner. These little details made me feel that I was not part of the world I now lived in.

When I look back, I can see that everyone around me - my aunt, my new teachers, new friends - were welcoming and tried their best to help me adjust, but I hated being there.

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