With the fall of Bashar al-Assad looming, the people of Homs express a mix of joy and sorrow as they begin to rebuild their lives after years of war.
Reviving Hope Amidst Pain: A New Chapter for Homs, Syria
Reviving Hope Amidst Pain: A New Chapter for Homs, Syria
In Homs, once dubbed the 'capital of the revolution', residents are confronting their traumatic past while embracing a hopeful future.
In the aftermath of a tumultuous decade, the city of Homs—once hailed as Syria's "capital of the revolution"—finds itself at a crossroads. Among those navigating this transition is 20-year-old Baraa, who recalls the grim days of her childhood spent in the besieged Old City. "Even now, I look back and wonder how we survived this nightmare," she reflects during a recent interview. Baraa, now a university student, joined the enthusiastic crowds that filled the streets last Sunday celebrating the impending end of Bashar al-Assad’s regime. Her recollections of hardship resonate as she shares the struggles her family endured during the siege that lasted for over two years.
Baraa, alongside her sisters Ala and Jana—and their father Farhan Abdul Ghani—have grown together through pain and loss. Farhan, who lost his wife when a rocket struck their home, reflects the sentiments of many when he says, "We did not want war. We did not want a forever president who builds monuments to himself." As they reminisce about the horrors faced during the conflict, including anecdotes of extreme hunger and violence, Baraa says she learned about weapons rather than books. Yet, amidst these dark memories, there is now a flicker of optimism.
As the dust settles from past turmoil, Baraa voices her dreams of completing her studies and traveling abroad, reflecting a new energy surging through the community. "Everything is cheaper now, including food and electricity," her father enthuses, signaling a welcomed change as market dynamics improve. While many citizens now relish the reopening of markets and freedoms long inhibited by military checkpoints, the echoes of the past still haunt them. Loss lingers with every shadow of the bombed buildings they once called home.
Dr. Hayan al-Abrash, another survivor, returns to the remnants of his underground hospital, tracing the scars left by war with a heavy heart. He lost a brother to the oppressive regime’s prison system and grapples with the devastation surrounding him. "It makes me very angry to see this," he says, acknowledging both the grief and the stirring call for rebuilding.
Despite shared pain, residents emphasize unity across sectarian lines, with hopes of rebuilding thriving amid the rubble. The community faces an arduous journey of healing; however, as Father Tony Homsy of the Catholic Church reminds them, "It will take time to heal our wounds, to heal our memories." For many like Baraa and her family, the future offers a chance at recovery, rekindling dreams amidst the scars of a conflict that reshaped their lives.
Baraa, alongside her sisters Ala and Jana—and their father Farhan Abdul Ghani—have grown together through pain and loss. Farhan, who lost his wife when a rocket struck their home, reflects the sentiments of many when he says, "We did not want war. We did not want a forever president who builds monuments to himself." As they reminisce about the horrors faced during the conflict, including anecdotes of extreme hunger and violence, Baraa says she learned about weapons rather than books. Yet, amidst these dark memories, there is now a flicker of optimism.
As the dust settles from past turmoil, Baraa voices her dreams of completing her studies and traveling abroad, reflecting a new energy surging through the community. "Everything is cheaper now, including food and electricity," her father enthuses, signaling a welcomed change as market dynamics improve. While many citizens now relish the reopening of markets and freedoms long inhibited by military checkpoints, the echoes of the past still haunt them. Loss lingers with every shadow of the bombed buildings they once called home.
Dr. Hayan al-Abrash, another survivor, returns to the remnants of his underground hospital, tracing the scars left by war with a heavy heart. He lost a brother to the oppressive regime’s prison system and grapples with the devastation surrounding him. "It makes me very angry to see this," he says, acknowledging both the grief and the stirring call for rebuilding.
Despite shared pain, residents emphasize unity across sectarian lines, with hopes of rebuilding thriving amid the rubble. The community faces an arduous journey of healing; however, as Father Tony Homsy of the Catholic Church reminds them, "It will take time to heal our wounds, to heal our memories." For many like Baraa and her family, the future offers a chance at recovery, rekindling dreams amidst the scars of a conflict that reshaped their lives.
