One afternoon, when he was seven years old and living in a refugee camp in Iraq, Akhmid

Najim fell into a hole.

The hole was so big, or he was so small, that his big brother, Kamran, who had been walking

on the road just next to him, could not find him.

That's Akhmid's memory anyway.

His brother calling for him.

Akhmid crying too hard, or his voice too soft for him to hear.

Finally, Kamran does spot him and reaches down to lift him out.

But Akhmid is stuck, deep in the mud, and he starts to panic.

It was a really, like a really, really scary moment.

So Kamran starts singing to him, and not a song that his little brother likes.

I really hate this song, so you are singing it just to make me angry, just to take my attention,

to make me fight with him.

I'm not remembering about this whole.

And it worked.

Akhmid forgot his fear, and he let Kamran pull him out.

When peace came, and the family moved back home, they live in the northern part of Iraq,

called Kurdistan.

Kamran continued to watch out for his little brother.

At school, he would fight with Akhmid's bullies.

In the family restaurant, he'd do Akhmid shifts along with his own.

Akhmid is eight years younger.

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