Spring warms our hearts and our bodies. Moria, the refugee camp on Lesvos where I lived when I arrived in Europe, however, is cold and prison-like. The tents did not provide cover from the harsh winter wind or the freezing rain.

But you will also see that this situation can change: more humane migration policies can help us, they can give people here the protection and support they need and deserve.

My story is similar to those of millions of other refugees from Syria and other countries. Conflict and persecution has torn our families apart, we had to leave our belongings behind, and our beautiful cities are no longer recognizable. We fled to survive and when we reached safety we were stopped and told to wait in inhumane conditions. That waiting has become living.

I have been in Lesvos for seven months now, and there is only one thing I can be certain of: I will be stuck here for a long time. I have requested asylum in Europe, but the next hearing for my case is 18 months away.

And again, I am not the exception. There are 13,000 refugees stuck on Greek islands. We are unable to restart our lives, or even truly live them. We sleep in tents and other shelters that are too cold in winter and too hot in summer. We wait in long lines to receive food. We shower in clogged, flooded bathrooms that are not safe for women and girls.

While asylum seekers like me are waiting for their cases to be heard, our future is slipping away.

Every day I dream of going back home. But the place I call home is in ruins. When I think of home I think of my daily routine of working in a hospital in the morning and teaching English to my students in the afternoon. I think of picnics in the park with my family over the weekends. Or just walking around Damascus with friends. I was born and raised there; it used to be such a beautiful place. These are just memories now.

Being a refugee is not a choice. I am stuck in Lesvos because Syria is not safe. Years of relentless fighting have left me with no other choice but to stay here so I can stay alive.

If you are trapped on the Greek islands, you are lost. Just look at Moria: it’s an overcrowded place with more than 5000 people, and there is no information on how we can move on with our lives. Nobody tells you anything. You need a doctor, a lawyer, or simply a translator? Good luck! Even simple things, like finding out the opening hours of an office to get your documents is difficult. To receive the support you need, or information about your rights, you have to rely on hearsay or wait until you have a moment with a busy overworked official who knows as much as I do. Nobody is sure what is true and what is not.

All of this led me to decide that I want to make a difference by helping those around me. I followed a training with an NGO on how to assist people in the same situation as I am and provide them with the information they desperately need on their rights and options. Many people do not know that they have the right to consult a lawyer to navigate the complex asylum process – so I help them connect to people that can help. Or if someone needs a doctor and there is nobody to translate, I accompany them.

I will keep volunteering in the Moria camp as long as people are trapped here. Helping the people here – my neighbours – gives me strength. This work helps me in these difficult times.

But I am – we all are – trapped on Lesvos following the EU’s deal with Turkey, which was struck exactly two years ago. Since the deal entered into effect, Greece forces asylum seekers to stay on the island instead of being able to request asylum on the mainland or elsewhere in Europe.

This policy has one main goal: to stop people from seeking asylum in Europe. But European leaders seem to have forgotten that we are people. They overlook the fact that a handful of bathrooms cannot be shared by the thousands who live in these overcrowded camps. That women and children face a real risk of sexual violence, abuse and harassment when they are forced to live in tents.