![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/26e82c_5090610b39e84b73b72381334f32337df000.jpg/v1/fill/w_1920,h_1080,al_c,q_90,enc_auto/26e82c_5090610b39e84b73b72381334f32337df000.jpg)
Adnan Mustafa
![Soura](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/26e82c_359a24813a7744748a9a49f29bff604d~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_891,h_808,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/Soura_MG_1174.jpg)
Personally, I have not felt foreign in Denmark. Last summer when we went on a four-week holiday to Greece I missed Denmark, Horsens and our flat. If you stay active and positive you can feel at home anywhere in the world. But generally, as a Kurd, you are born with a sense of being foreign. Because none of us were born in a country – a Kurdistan – which is ours. Even in Syria you feel like an outsider. You live with oppression, have no equal rights, and are not allowed to speak Kurdish in official contexts.
My biggest hobby is music. I was 10-11 years old when my older brother taught me how to play the saz – an instrument, which like my native language is closely linked to Kurdish culture. I played with friends, albeit not on a professional level. But since my mother passed away in August 2016, I have barely played it.
I feel sad that I never managed to get my mother to Denmark. I had promised her I would. My mother felt most comfortable with me, and she lived with me. So why didn’t I stay with her? Why wasn’t I there when she died? Why did I not succeed in getting her up here on a visa?
My wife and my siblings try to comfort me by claiming I did all I could, alas it does not help. I still see her in my dreams, I have a bad conscience, and will have for the rest of my life. When you feel like that you cannot play the saz. But I know it holds the key to my finding happiness again, so I can handle it. We all have a role in this life.
39 / male / married / children / studying pedagogy / family consultant / Horsens / Kurd from Syria / residency permit in 2013