Here are few stories of some Syrians who do little things to live on. These stories are nothing but heartbreaking.
I spent my whole life in these neighbourhoods. And now that I am over 70 years old, this place and I are not familiar with each other anymore.
Abu Khaled, 70, lives in the old part of Aleppo. (ABOVE)
I go to school everyday to play and have fun, not to study, because at home I just sit and do nothing. My parents don’t let me play outside these days, but at school I can do whatever I want.
Yasser, 5, has been living under siege since two years.
Abu Yassine invited us for a cup of tea. He boiled two litters of water in less than ten minutes on a cloudy day. Everyone here uses wood stoves, but Abu Yassine wanted to save money.
He told us: “I cut and installed these mirrors on the satellite dish myself to focus the sun’s rays and use them to heat up my food and tea kettle. I can boil water in less than ten minutes and we’re still in the last days of winter. I expect it to be much faster when the summer comes.”
Abu Yassine, in his late 40s, has been living under siege with no cooking fuel or electricity since two years.
On 4 December 2012, the regime security forces broke into our house in Beit Naim and arrested my 20-year-old brother on charges of spray-painting this phrase on the wall behind me. Later on, the regime forces were kicked out of my town and we came under siege, but my brother hasn’t returned yet. Actually, it was me who spray-painted those words.
Mahmoud, 14, has been living under siege since two years.
I’m building earth mounds to protect the road from the regime’s snipers so regular people can walk around the town safely. My mission is difficult and dangerous because the regime targets us during our work. Many of my colleagues died on the job.
We never picked up weapons and we’re not committing any sin. We’re just building earth mounds to protect women and kids from bullets. Today, I am putting my life on the line to do my work. I still remember my buddies killed by the regime soldiers—some of them died in front of my eyes, just because they answered the call of duty.
Mohammed, 35, has been living under siege since two years.
I have one son who lives in turkey but I haven’t seen him for a year. They have promised me a new tent. I just want to sleep.
Fatima, 80, from Al-Bab in the countryside of Aleppo standing in front of the ruins of her tent, which was burned down today. The tattoos on her face are from an old Syrian tradition abandoned as local religion has become more conservative.
In collaboration with the Humans of Syria.