They are everywhere, in every city, in every park, at every traffic light and in front of every mosque.

They try to cling on to life.

I’m talking about Syrian refugees. When they first arrived, I had visited them at the camp. They had come only with food that would last them for a few days and the belongings they can carry. They hoped to return to their home country as soon as possible.

“Do you think we can go back in a week, son?” had asked an old woman. “I hope so,” I had retorted, but I wasn’t sure in the least.

“I forgot to pull the plug of the refrigerator as we left home. Also, we have our animals and gardens to look after,” she had added.

At that time, we were all hopeful about the future. “It will not last long,” we believed. The authorities were making similar remarks. Some of them were talking about “performing the next Friday prayer at the famous Umayyad Mosque in Damascus.”

But that didn’t happen. They are still here. They try to live next to us. Those who cannot fit into the camp migrated to other cities. We seduced some of them and took them out of the camps with the hope of eking out some “cheap labor.”

Some of them fell prey to human traffickers.

I am seriously concerned about those who wait at the traffic lights:  those kids who look around with hope.

The children who were born in Turkey are 4 years old now. Those who were at the age of 4-5 when they first came to Turkey are now aged 10-11.

We grow impatient while waiting for the lights to go green, but they patiently wait for an unknown future. Given the dullness in their eyes and expression on their dirty faces, we can hardly say that they are hopeful.

Selling paper tissues or wiping windscreens of cars at the traffic lights, they try to hold on to life.

Maybe they think we already take their situation for granted. Perhaps, they are angry with us. Do they also think that we don’t lend them sufficient support from our cozy homes or cars?

How long will these kids stay here? Will they still resist when they start to leave puberty behind? Will they continue to sell paper tissues tirelessly? Or will they discover other ways or methods? We don’t care about their education, but what will happen if these kids start to form gangs?

What will we do if these kids who lost their fathers in war enter into the services of their newly discovered “fathers” or radical groups?

Actually, it is not difficult to understand this.

When I went to Pakistan, I tried to study and understand Afghan refugees. I paid visits to the refugee camp located about two hours away from Islamabad. What I saw was not pleasant. It was heart-wrenching.

I had just graduated high school when they had left their home country in 1979.

I had taken active part in relief campaigns. I thought they returned to their home country when Russia went away.

But I was wrong.

I was surprised to learn that a significant proportion of Afghan refugees continued to live in Pakistan even after the Russian withdrawal.

Those who were born in Pakistan in those years are now aged 36. Those who came to Pakistan as kids are older. None of them returned. They came to see Pakistan as their home country.

Pakistani authorities neglected their education, assuming that they would go back to their country. They failed to develop good plans for their future.

Now, they are paying a high price for this failure.

Of course, there are also those who managed to become successful and integrate with the Pakistani society. However, some of the youths who were born here have joined radical and terrorist groups in Pakistan.

They hold the West and the Pakistan administration which they perceive as the West’s comprador responsible for their plight. They tried to alleviate their rage, disappointment and revenge by resorting to violence.

This is what we should lose our sleep over. There is much we can learn from Pakistan’s example.

Every Syrian kid whose education or future we fail to plan may become a terrorist in the future. The hands that sell paper tissues or are extended for our help may pull the trigger in future.

Do you think they like the shopping centers into which they sneak for some warmth and from which they are immediately removed upon detection?

Jessica Stern is an expert on faith-based terrorism. She is a faculty member at Harvard University. I had a chance to have a long conversation on terrorism with her at a meeting we attended on terrorism. She handed me his book. Its title was interesting: “Terror in the Name of God: Why Religious Militants Kill.”

It should be noted that she doesn’t fall into the error which many media members tend to stumble on. This lends originality to her work. “Why do they kill in the name of God?” she asks. She tries to understand without judging or accusing.

She argues that the people who are practitioners of Judaism, Christianity, Islam or any other religion and who are involved in terrorism actually have other problems. That is, killing in the name of God is just a pretext. The real problem is different.

Stern met Jewish, Christian and Muslim terrorists who serve their sentences in prison. She made long interviews. She tried to understand them without passing judgments about them.

Her results came as a surprise even for her.

She found that these people perform terror acts with similar reasons although their beliefs or religions are different.

She grouped these reasons into five basic categories:

Alienation: they feel as if they are isolated from the society.

Humiliation: they feel as if they are treated as the second rate by the authoritarian state [family, individuals, or society].

Demographic pressure: they are separated from their home countries due to migration and forced population movements.

Sense of injustice: they believe that their current situation is not their preference or crime and that they find themselves in this situation because of unlawful or unfair decisions others make.

The struggle for land linked with independence, autonomy and other demands. As you might guess, the last one is the main reason for the terror movements which claim to fight for freedom in connection with the Palestine or other issues.

When we see the kids who try to sell paper tissues or beg money at the traffic lights, in front of mosques or in the parks, we have to think once again.

If we don’t want to train terrorists of future, we have to care about the future of Syrian children without future.

We must never forget that their future is our future.

The majority of these children will not return to their home country. Syria may mean nothing for them. But the society in which they currently live with longing or perhaps with disgust is their future.

We may start with education which is the most fundamental human right. No one should argue that Syrians actually receive good education.

We see the truth in the eyes of the children who look into our eyes at the traffic lights in the heart of the capital city. You don’t have to go to the camps.

They are everywhere. We have to help them and prepare a good future for them. This future will be both for them and for ourselves.