For My Family, For Syria: A Story of Pain and Freedom
It felt as though the sun had finally risen after an endless, oppressive night. On December 8, 2024, the birds of freedom took flight, and a new chapter began—one we will tell for generations to come.
In the modern pages of history, Syria stands as a harrowing symbol of a nation crushed under tyranny and oppression. Since the Assad regime and his family seized control with an iron grip, the country became a stage for relentless repression and systematic abuse. Decades passed with Syrians living in fear, their homeland transformed into a vast prison where a free word was enough to send someone to the dungeons of torture.
The regime spared no tool in its bid to cement its power—from the security forces that spread terror, to economic policies that deepened poverty, and the ruthless silencing of opposition voices. This oppression extended beyond Syria’s borders, as the regime worked tirelessly to manipulate global narratives, justifying its grip on power at the cost of countless innocent lives.
My family was among the millions scarred by this injustice. One night, the security forces stormed my grandfather’s home. What began as a peaceful family gathering quickly descended into chaos and terror. The children’s cries and my grandmother’s desperate pleas couldn’t stop them. They dragged him away as though his very existence was an unforgivable crime. That moment wasn’t just an arrest; it was the beginning of a nightmare that left permanent scars on our souls.
My uncle was another victim of this ruthless regime. One day, they stormed his workplace. Before my grandmother’s helpless eyes—she could do nothing but scream and beg—they shot him in cold blood. That moment shattered her completely. She didn’t just lose her son; she lost a part of herself and her strength in the face of such brutal injustice.
Then there was my other uncle, who disappeared into the regime’s prisons for 15 long years. Every day behind bars brought him fresh pain. Torture and humiliation became his reality, stripping him of hope and dignity. In those pitch-black cells, humanity seemed to vanish, replaced only by the echoing screams of the tortured.
And how can I forget my cousin, who gave his life fighting for freedom? He was one of the brave souls who believed that Syria deserved liberty, even at the cost of his own life. He fell in battle, fighting for a brighter future. Though he’s gone, his courage and sacrifice remain etched in the hearts of every Syrian dreaming of dignity.
Another cousin spent six years in the regime’s prisons, never knowing why he was arrested, never charged with any crime. Like thousands of others, his only “offence” was daring to dream of a better life. For six years, he endured darkness, torture, and dehumanisation—a daily reality for countless Syrian families.
These stories—of my grandfather, my uncles, my cousins—are just fragments of the larger tragedy that engulfed Syria. The regime’s cruelty wasn’t limited to individuals; it tore families apart, weaving loss and grief into the fabric of daily life. Fathers were arrested in front of their children, young men were executed before their families, and thousands vanished into prisons, leaving behind unanswered questions and unimaginable pain. In Syria, every family has a martyr, a prisoner, or someone missing. No one was spared—not men, not women, not even children.
This oppression wasn’t just about silencing dissent; it was an assault on the very spirit of the Syrian people. The country became a place where safety no longer existed, not even in the intimacy of one’s own home.
And yet, amidst all this darkness, hope endured. The Syrian people, battered but unbroken, refused to give up. Every tear shed, every soul lost, brought them closer to the moment of liberation.
That moment finally came. What once seemed impossible became reality. Bashar al-Assad and his family fell after years of struggle and resistance. Tyranny found no refuge in Syria, and Assad fled like a coward, as tyrants always do when confronted by the will of the people.
Syria is free at last. The spirit of this wounded nation has been restored, and its people will rebuild it, stronger and more determined than ever to claim their right to freedom and dignity. Syria will forever stand as a symbol of resilience—a testament to the world that no tyranny lasts forever, no matter how long the darkness lingers.
To my grandfather, Mohamed Sharif; my uncle Mahmoud; my cousin Mahmoud; and my uncle Haitham—may God have mercy on you. This victory is for you and for the millions like you. Your joy in heaven is far sweeter than any celebration we can have here.
By Marwah Kneifed
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