The truth I refused to believe

Today my cousin sent me a picture of this tree that stands in front of my grandma's home in Hama. My uncle and his family live on the floor above her, and our house is right across the street. Our street suffered the damage of '82, but has been rebuilt and improved in the past three decades. Earlier today, clashes between the Free Syrian Army and the Syrian forces occurred in the very street separating my grandma's house from mine.

My relatives claimed that today's attacks on Hama were worse than the attacks during the first week of Ramadan 2011. Only a few days after the Houla Massacre, the regime renewed its assault on Hama. Bullets came down like rain on the street that I used to cross numerous times per day each summer.They were landing on the porches as my cousins were typing and updating meabout their situations. My mom told me that my grandma is usually never afraid during the attacks since she has lived through '82 and has seen the worst. However, she could tell after her phone call with her that today she was truly afraid. The fact that my cousin, her grandson, was arrested last night for taking part in a protest also surely added to her uneasiness.

For the past fourteen months, my mind has been unable tocompletely process what exactly has been going on. I hear the news, I see thepictures, I watch the videos, but my mind is still in denial. Syria- the home of my most cherished summer memories- is now considered a war zone? It was not until I saw the pictures of mystreet capturing the after-math of the clashes that reality clicked in. Pictures of my uncle's car that I used to see parked in front of his house everyday revealed the damage that the Assad regime had done. Its shattered glass, blown out headlight, and bullet marks on the hood brought back memories of the hundreds of times I discovered the city as a passenger init. The image of this tree was proof of the truth I refused to believe. The mental image of a soldier standing next to this tree and being targeted by an opponent brings chills to my entire body. The photos of the chillingly barren street and its closed corner store contradict my memories of it being constantly busy and bustling with noisy cars. 

It is also worth mentioning that the wall behind the tree in this photo was rebuilt after the 1982 attacks. It was destroyed by tanks, but wasslowly rebuilt like the rest of the city. Walls have been rebuilt, bark has regrown, and the memories have been repressed into the back of the Hamwi residents' minds. Material objects can be replaced, but what about the people that will never be seen walking these streets again? Days like this send the Hamwis back not only to the "Ramadan Massacre" during the first week of August 2011, but back to the month of February in 1982.


- Iman

Freedom University

Two or three years ago they entered college with aspirations of being doctors, engineers, pharmacists, and business managers. They made it through twelve years of the intense Syrian schooling system. The stress they suffered and the tears they wept studying for the baccalaureat exam were in the past, as they now were students of one of the most prestigious universities in the country. They were unaware that they would soon be labeled heroes and students of the bravest university in the world. They never envisioned their campus to be the Syrian government's worst nightmare. Today, the priorities of Aleppo University students have shifted and their career goals have been temporarily put on hold.

Instead of fighting for their 4.0 grade point average like any other college student in the world, the students at Aleppo University are fighting for Syria’s freedom. Instead of waking up to a dreaded 7 AM alarm clock, they wake up every day to the sounds of gunshots outside their dorms. While average college students carry Coca Cola for a pre-lecture caffeine boost, Aleppo University use the acid in the soda to counteract the effect of tear gas exposure. They have learned to carry it with them everywhere they go because tear gas is the Syrian government's preferred way to disperse protests that erupt throughout the university. You are running around campus because you fear being overweight? They run around campus for fear of being arrested and tortured by the security guard that is chasing them simply because they yelled the words "salmieh, salmieh" (peaceful, peaceful).

Students are expected to learn in classrooms where the blood of their classmates has stained the desks and floors. Soldiers regularly break through doors and windows to arrest students inside the buildings. At least fifteen students left their parents to receive diplomas, but returned home wrapped in sheets. Earlier this month several students were seen falling out of the fifth story of the dorms as they were being chased by security forces. Either they were pushed out of the windows by ruthless soldiers, or the students were so afraid of the torture that they would have rather fell from the fifth floor of a building rather than be arrested.

Once the revolution succeeds, the Syrian people will undoubtedly look back at May 17, 2012 as of one their proudest moments. Approximately fifteen thousand young men and women stood shoulder to shoulder on the campus squares protesting in the presence of the United Nations monitors. The protests staged across the nation the next day were in solidarity with the students, labeled as “Heroes of Aleppo University Friday”. The students are providing the spark of energy the city of Aleppo needs, encouraging it to rise with the rest of the country against the regime. 


- Iman