Olivia: In the year Doaa Al Zamel set sail, commercial ships—not coast guards, but cargo tankers—rescued forty thousand people from the Mediterranean. Jackson: Forty thousand? That's the size of a small city. Rescued by... container ships? That alone tells you the system is completely overwhelmed. And Doaa was just one of them. Olivia: And her story is the heart of the book we're discussing today, A Hope More Powerful Than the Sea by Melissa Fleming. Jackson: Right, and Fleming isn't just any author. When she wrote this, she was the chief spokesperson for the UN High Commissioner for Refugees. She had a front-row seat to this crisis, which gives this book such a unique, credible weight. It’s not just journalism; it’s testimony. Olivia: Exactly. She brings that global perspective to a deeply personal story, which begins long before Doaa ever saw the sea, in a town in Syria called Daraa.

Jackson: And from what I read, Doaa's early life was, for the most part, pretty normal. She grew up in a big, close-knit family, had dreams, had fears. Olivia: A very normal life. In fact, her biggest ambition was to become a policewoman. She was inspired by a teacher who told the girls to think about their future, not just marriage. Doaa wanted to be independent, to be someone people could turn to in times of trouble. Jackson: Wait, a policewoman? For the same government she would later protest against? That’s a fascinating contradiction. Olivia: It is. It shows you how quickly everything changed. Her world was stable, until it wasn't. The story of the Syrian uprising really begins in her hometown, Daraa, with a small act of defiance. In early 2011, inspired by the Arab Spring in Tunisia and Egypt, a group of teenage boys spray-painted on a school wall: "You're next, Doctor," a reference to Bashar al-Assad's former career as an ophthalmologist. Jackson: Just kids with spray paint. It sounds like a prank that would get you detention, not start a war. Olivia: In Syria, it was seen as treason. The boys were rounded up by the secret police, headed by Assad's cousin, Atef Najib. They were taken away and tortured for weeks. When their parents, the town elders, went to Najib to beg for their release, he gave them an answer that set the country on fire. Jackson: I remember reading this. It’s chilling. Olivia: He told them, and I'm quoting the book's account here: "My advice to you is that you forget you ever had these children. Go back home and sleep with your wives... and if you can’t do that, then bring your wives to us and we will do the job for you." Jackson: Wow. The sheer arrogance and cruelty of that statement. It's pure evil. It makes the explosion of protests that followed completely understandable. This wasn't about politics anymore; it was about dignity. Olivia: It was about everything. And for Doaa, the moment of transformation was deeply personal. It was Mother's Day, a day her family always spent visiting her grandparents' graves. Despite the growing violence, Doaa insisted they go, saying, "We can't stop doing what we love." Jackson: A desire for normalcy in the middle of chaos. I get that. Olivia: But there was no normalcy left. On the way, their taxi was stopped. They had to walk through militarized zones. From the roof of her grandfather's house, Doaa witnessed something that changed her forever: she saw government security forces on rooftops shooting live ammunition into a crowd of peaceful protesters. Jackson: So this is where she goes from an observer to a participant. What does that look like for a teenage girl? Is she throwing rocks? Olivia: It's even more telling than that. During one protest, as security forces advanced, an organizer shoved a drum and a loudspeaker at her, telling her to hide them. Without hesitating, Doaa stuffed them under her long abaya and ran into an abandoned building. She was spotted on her way out. Jackson: Oh man. Olivia: A soldier shouted, "Get her! She's one of the protesters!" She barely escaped, finding refuge in a stranger's home until dark. When she got home, her father was furious and terrified. He forbade her from ever going to another demonstration. Jackson: I love that story. It’s not about being a soldier, it’s about these small, incredibly brave acts of resistance. It shows her spirit, that defiant independence her mother always talked about. And that's the same spirit we'll see again later, in the most extreme way imaginable.

Olivia: And that spirit is what carries her and her family when they finally have to flee Syria. The war becomes unbearable. Her father's barbershop is destroyed. They escape to Egypt. But refuge isn't the permanent safe haven they hoped for. Jackson: Initially, it seemed promising, right? Under President Morsi's government, there was a more open-door policy for Syrians. The book mentions they were even getting welcome baskets from the Muslim Brotherhood. Olivia: Exactly. There was a sense of solidarity. But then, in 2013, the political climate shifts dramatically. The military ousts Morsi, and suddenly, Syrians are viewed with suspicion, associated with the old regime. They become scapegoats. Hostility grows, they're harassed, and their children are bullied out of school. This is the backdrop for her meeting a young man named Bassem. Jackson: Okay, let's get into Bassem. He's a central figure, and a controversial one for some readers. The book portrays this epic romance, but his pursuit of Doaa is… intense. Olivia: It is. He's a fellow Syrian refugee who was also a fighter with the Free Syrian Army, and he was imprisoned and tortured back home. He falls for Doaa instantly and is relentless in his pursuit. Jackson: Relentless is one word for it. After she repeatedly rejects him, he threatens to go back to Syria to die if she won't marry him. Some readers found that deeply romantic, but others saw it as really manipulative. Olivia: It's a really complex point, and the book, to its credit, doesn't give an easy answer. It presents both cultural lenses. Doaa's mother, Hanaa, tells her, "When a man humiliates himself for a woman, it means he truly loves her." That’s one perspective. From a Western viewpoint, it can absolutely read as emotional blackmail. Jackson: And Doaa herself is so resistant at first. She's fiercely independent. There's that great scene where she's struggling with a heavy suitcase and he offers to help, and she just says, "I can manage just fine alone." What finally changes her mind? Olivia: It’s a combination of things, all born from their shared hardship. Doaa falls seriously ill from exhaustion and stress, and Bassem steps in, taking her to a private hospital and paying for everything. He cares for her tenderly. Then, her own mother becomes ill, partly from the stress of Bassem's threat to leave. Doaa realizes that his fate and her family's well-being are all tangled up. It's a decision born of genuine affection, but also immense pressure and a complete lack of other options. Jackson: So their love story is inseparable from their desperation. They have no future in Egypt. They can't go back to Syria. And that desperation is what leads them to the smugglers.

Olivia: Precisely. They see no future, so they decide to risk everything for a chance at one in Europe. They make a deal with the devil. And this is where Doaa's lifelong, paralyzing fear of water becomes a central character in the story. Jackson: She can't swim. She had a near-drowning experience as a child in a lake. The foreshadowing is just heartbreaking. Olivia: After several failed, terrifying attempts to leave Egypt—including being arrested and jailed—they finally get on a boat. It's a decrepit, overcrowded fishing trawler packed with hundreds of other refugees from Syria, Palestine, Egypt, Sudan. For two days, they sail. Then, on the third day, another boat approaches. Jackson: And this isn't a rescue. Olivia: It's the opposite. The men on the other boat are other smugglers. They demand the passengers transfer to an even smaller, less seaworthy vessel. The refugees refuse. The smugglers on the other boat start shouting, laughing, and then they ram their boat directly into the refugees' trawler. Jackson: They were murdered. The smugglers on the other boat murdered them for refusing to move. This wasn't an accident. Olivia: It was mass murder at sea. The boat sinks in minutes. It's absolute chaos. People are screaming, drowning. And in the middle of it all, Bassem finds Doaa. He manages to get an inflatable ring, the kind a child would use at a pool, and gives it to her. He tells her he loves her. And then… a wave pulls him under, and he's gone. He drowns. Jackson: I just… I can't even fathom that. She's nineteen. She's just watched the love of her life die. She can't swim. And she's alone in the Mediterranean, surrounded by the bodies of 500 people. What happens next is almost beyond belief. Olivia: It is. As she's clinging to this little ring, a man who is dying swims up to her. He has his nine-month-old granddaughter, Masa, with him. He begs Doaa to take her. He says, "Please, take care of her." And then he drowns. A short while later, another woman does the same, handing Doaa her 18-month-old daughter, Malak, before she too disappears into the water. Jackson: My god. Olivia: For four days and four nights, Doaa Al Zamel, a girl who can't swim, floats in the open sea. She holds these two babies, one in each arm, pressed against the inflatable ring. She sings to them. She prays. She talks to them to keep them awake. She uses her headscarf to shield them from the sun. Jackson: This is where the title, A Hope More Powerful Than the Sea, becomes so literal. Her hope isn't for herself anymore, is it? It's for these children. Her life has been given a purpose in the middle of this absolute hell.

Olivia: It's an incredible transformation. She becomes a vessel of hope for others. The rescue itself is a miracle. A passing cargo ship, the CPO Japan, is alerted to the wreck. Against all odds, in terrible weather, a crew member spots her. He said finding her was like finding a needle in a haystack. Jackson: And tragically, little Malak, the 18-month-old, dies shortly after being rescued. It's just another layer of heartbreak on top of an impossible story. But Doaa saved Masa. She fulfilled that promise to a dying man. Olivia: Ultimately, that's what the book is about. It's not about the politics or the statistics, even though Melissa Fleming, with her UN background, knows them better than anyone. It's about the irreducible strength of one person's will to protect life when everything else has been stripped away. Jackson: It forces you to ask a really profound question: what is the absolute limit of human resilience? And what do we, as a global community, owe to the people who are pushed to that limit every single day? It’s a story that stays with you, that haunts you, long after you finish it. Olivia: We highly recommend everyone read it. Doaa’s story is a powerful reminder of the human stakes behind the headlines. If you've been moved by her journey, consider looking into the work of organizations like the UNHCR or Doctors Without Borders, who are on the front lines of this ongoing crisis. Jackson: This is Aibrary, signing off.