After the world's attention was diverted to seemingly more important issues, it appeared crucial to let the world know of the human rights violations currently taking place in Syria.
Whether it be through a riffle or a pen, it is every Syrian's duty to fight back, and social media has proven to be a somewhat effective method of doing so. This is my feeble attempt at spreading awareness in a language that will hopefully be understood by the majority.
How was the Syrian Revolution ignited?
Back in 2011, mass protests were held in solidarity with the detained boys of Daraa where the Syrian Army was deployed to quell the uprising and soldiers were ordered to shoot innocent protestors.
After months of arresting, torturing, and killing civilians, the revolution evolved to an armed rebellion.
What is the FSA?
Short for Free Syrian Army, the FSA was first started by commander Riad Al-As'ad around mid-2011. It is composed of civilian volunteers and Syrian Army defectors who thought it necessary to take up arms in order to defend themselves, their families, and their towns from the regime's mercenaries.
Yaman is a young inventor. His greatest invention is an incredible machine which can turns tissues into incredible ones, an invention that helps him survive.
A passionate advocate for the education of girls and young women in Jordan’s refugee camps, Muzon has been hailed as Syria’s answer to Malala.
When Muzon’s family fled the war in Syria in early 2013, they briefly considered leaving her behind. The bright 14-year-old had been studying hard all year for her grade-nine school exams, which were just a month away, and her aunt urged the family to let her stay and continue her education.
In the end, her father decided the risks were too great, and so she fled with him and her siblings across the border to Jordan. “I knew she could make up for lost schooling, but if you lose your life there’s no way to make up for that,” Abu Mohammed, 45, told me when I met the family in Jordan’s Azraq refugee camp.
Education has always played a big part in Muzon’s life. Both of her parents were teachers back in Syria’s southern Dara’a province, and her aunt and uncle were head teachers at local schools. “I didn’t need them to tell me that education is important. I always just felt it,” she explains. “Our house was built by an engineer. When I was sick I went to a doctor. Education is everything in life.”
In Jordan’s Za’atari refugee camp a group of Syrian artists is working with basic tools and materials sourced from around the camp. They are using local stone, polystyrene and discarded wood, to build models and sculptures of iconic sites including Palmyra and the Krak des Chevaliers castle in Homs. “We chose this project to highlight what is happening in Syria, because many of these sites are under threat or have already been destroyed,” says project coordinator Ahmad Hariri, from Dara’a (third from left).
Naleen holds her two-month-old son, Pulat, during the ferry journey from Lesvos to Athens. UNHCR/Andrew McConnell
The Long Journey
After explosions rock their home in Syria, a young family set out on a perilous journey in search of sanctuary in northern Europe.
As the outboard motor on the small Zodiac started cutting out, the waves battering its starboard side pushing it back towards Turkey, Dara Mohammed began to regret taking his family on this voyage.
Crammed with 40 people, the tiny vessel was fighting an angry sea on its course towards Europe.
The 29-year-old Syrian had paid the smuggler he found in Izmir US$2,500 to transport his family of four to what he hoped would be safety. The smuggler assured them all would go well.
But the night had turned the aquamarine waters of the Aegean black.
Dara pressed his two-year-old daughter, Lamar, to his chest and pulled his wife, Naleen, who was holding their baby son, Pulat, close.
Little Lamar kept silent, recognising the fear in her mother’s eyes as the small Zodiac struggled towards the Greek island of Lesvos. The two-year-old had seen this same fear before, when explosions shook their house in Syria. She saw it again as they fled for their lives soon afterwards, and she had seen it many times since.
The Al Dayoub family relax in their new home. They are Bashar, Muhammed, Yousef, Abdel, Munther, Adham, Izdihar, Thuraya, Ameen, Samira and Ayman.
Safety Under One Roof
Young Thuraya and her eight brothers and sisters are given a new home and a warm welcome in Austria, far from the bombs and bullets that shattered their world.
In a small Austrian town an hour’s drive from Vienna, a tape recorder blares as the nine children of Ameen Al Dayoub and his wife Izdihar take turns to dance the Dabke. It is a happy Arab folk dance performed on joyous occasions. These days they have much to celebrate.
“In Homs, in Syria, before the war, we often danced the Dabke… then the whole family of 40 people lived in a three-story Arab house,” says 39-year-old Ameen. “Now we dance it because we are happy to have found a safe haven in Austria.”
Ameen has not forgotten the happy times in his former home where he worked as a school bus driver, but says sadly those times are over “once and for all.”
“Homs was a wonderful place. We never made a distinction between Alawites, Shiites, Sunnites or Christians,” he explains. “Every Thursday afternoon after work, my friends and I, together with the family, would go to the coast and sit in cafes on the beach. We didn’t even know what denomination our friends were. That kind of life in Syria has gone forever.”
A volunteer battles the waves as a boatload of refugees arrives at the Greek island of Lesvos. UNHCR/Hereward Holland
Life Begins As One in a Million
After travelling from Lebanon in her mother's womb, Samar Alzayadi can rightfully claim to be the millionth refugee or migrant to have arrived in Europe by sea in 2015.
Samar Alzayadi’s age is counted in hours. Yet she’s endured more than most people will in a lifetime. She also has the dubious distinction to have been born the millionth refugee or migrant to arrive in Europe by sea in 2015.
Lying in her hospital bed, Ahlam, Samar’s 30-year-old mother, relates the colourful prologue to her daughter’s short life.
Eleven days prior to her birth, Ahlam began her odyssey from Beirut, Lebanon, with her sights set on a new life in Germany, where she has relatives.
“I made the journey because I’ve seen a lot of bad things. I’ve had a lot of bad days and I decided to take the risk to make sure I don’t have any more,” she says.
UN Secretary General: Save Madaya from starvation.
“My only dream is to have a piece of bread.”
These are the words of a 52 year old woman in the Syrian town of Madaya, where 40,000 humans are being slowly starved to death under a siege enforced by the Lebanese militia Hezbollah. It’s hard to believe that this is happening NOW, in our lifetime, and we can’t stand by and watch it happen.
This September and in a rare agreement between the warring sides, the UN, Iran, and Turkey brokered a plan to lift the sieges in these areas. Fighters were allowed safe passage, but the agreement is yet to yield results for civilians. Now only a huge diplomatic push on the highest level, led personally by the UN Secretary General, can finish what was started and put an end to this nightmare.
The people of Madaya are losing all hope. Let’s show them the world cares, that we won’t let more mothers see their children starve to death -- not on our watch. Sign this urgent petition to Ban Ki-moon then share widely -- once we have a global outcry big enough, we’ll bring Madaya to the doorsteps of the UN in New York.
“No matter where refugee children are now living they cannot escape war. The Turkish border town of Kilis is where most of my film was shot. As children run around the playground of the Kilis refugee camp, plumes of smoke can occasionally be seen in the background; the aftermath of aerial barrel bombs attacks on Azas, the first Syrian town over the border.
Kids told me that they sometimes feel the ground shake from the shockwaves. TV sets are locked to rolling news, filling the barest of abodes with images of death and destruction. Kids get caught in the crossfire of the adult’s conversations, fluctuating from the details of the war to the hardships of making ends meet.”
Syrian refugee Halid, 17, won’t admit he’s an artist - but there’s no denying he has talent. While living at a camp in Turkey, Halid, who has a disability, creates sculptures using simple copper wires. Read his story.
lmao you claim to be Syrian but you can’t even recognize the independence flag Syrians have been using since the beginning of the revolution to differentiate themselves from shithead Assadists like yourself.