As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow

Like Layla, Khawf reveals himself as more complex than a hallucination. He is not only a part of Salama’s mind warning her, but a living embodiment of fear to everyone, everywhere: “Since the beginning of time, I have awoken in people’s hearts. I’ve been given many names in countless languages. […] Humans have listened to my whispers, heeded my council, and tasted my power” (376). Khawf’s being everywhere sends an overarching message about fear affecting everyone.

With Khawf’s admission, the theme of Mental Health: The Power of One’s Internal World deepens. Salama’s mental health lets her experience fear in a different way from most people: She’s able to see and hear Khawf as a tangible being instead of an abstract emotion. Thus, him leaving her doesn’t signify that she is free of fear forever or that her mental health is perfect. The dangers of civil war caused him to manifest, but once Salama finds solace in Toronto with Kenan, she doesn’t see Khawf anymore because she isn’t in life-threatening danger.

The theme of Survival, Fear, and Patriotism comes through in Salama and her new family’s escape by boat. When they and the other refugees leave Syria, they sing a song about Syria being like heaven, uniting them in grief and hope. The song gives them hope for peace someday. The novel accurately portrays the hardships of war, even after citizens become refugees. The harsh boat ride becomes yet another conflict, as it capsizes during a storm. Salama thinks no one will care if they all die: “So what if a hundred or so meet their deaths? It’ll make a nice headline to spur a small protest or donation campaign before we’re forgotten again like foam on the sea” (387). Publicizing the Syrian War is imperative, as the citizens still need help in real life (as of 2023); this is what Kenan sought to do with his videos. This historical context makes the novel itself something that should not be forgotten, Salama and others representing thousands of real people.

As represented by Salama and Khawf’s final conversation, fate, fear, and faith resurface in the boat scene. Fear and faith are pitted against each other as they sing a song about heaven, saying goodbye to their home but having faith they will be protected in another land. The refugees trust in their God and pray while treading freezing water. They cling to their loved ones, and Salama refuses to let herself, Kenan, Lama, and Yusuf stop swimming. Likewise, Kenan tells them to stay close and “have faith” (382). While Salama prays for life, she also accepts death if it is what fate wills.

As she experiences fate, fear, and faith, Salama’s arc is nearly complete. She has become braver, wiser, and stronger. She understands she has done all she can, but now, is left to the sea, to fate. Before, Salama did not accept fate, denying Layla’s death and turning her into a hallucination. Now, she doesn’t suppress or repress her experiences, no matter how painful it may be to lose Kenan and his siblings—or her own life. Before her rescue, she wonders if she’s dead, but she doesn’t feel afraid anymore, proving the power of faith. In Toronto, Salama and Kenan keep their faith alive through paintings, one painted poem referencing the lemons of home. Salama even grows a garden with a lemon tree, giving the novel’s title its meaning.