Our team drove through Harasta today, a town near the capital of Damascus that has witnessed heavy destruction. The scene of buildings with their roofs collapsed to the ground had become all too familiar. Piles of rubble stretch as far as the eye can see, making one wonder about the lives of the people who once lived there - are they still alive? Will they ever come home? Did they find shelter? Were they able to start anew or are they still struggling to rebuild their lives? From afar, the effects the conflict has left on people's lives might not be so visible with hundreds of stories buried under the ruins.
I still remember an elderly man I met during one of my visits to this town. He told me how he had spent his entire life saving money to build a modest space that could barely pass for a home. With tears in his eyes, he remembered the night his dreams were shattered. During one of the clashes, the home he had worked so hard to build, was reduced to rubble and ash in an instant, just a few years ago. “It felt like my entire life was wasted for nothing. All the hard work I've put in over the past 40 years now feels meaningless. I don't think I have the time or energy to start over,” he said.
Many like him, find themselves having to rethink their life, instead of enjoying their retirement. While a single income is no longer enough to support a household due to the crumbling economy, the burden falls on elderlies, just as it does on the rest of their family members.
In Harasta, I also met a woman who had lost her husband and home in the same year. Every day is a struggle for her as she strives to provide for her family and often has to depend on handouts. she has searched for a job for almost five years, but in a country where opportunities are already scarce – her lack of skills and education have made it impossible to find one.
Despite her ongoing struggles, she has transformed her hardships into valuable lessons for her daughters. In a conservative environment where social pressure often hinders girls from completing their education, she ensured her daughters receive an education. Uncertain of what the future holds, she wants them to be equipped with all that it takes, to take control of their lives.
Dual path of pain and resilience
In another visit I did to Deir ez-Zor, a city that had endured years under ISIS control, and suffered extensive infrastructure damage, much like Harasta, I’ve witnessed an unusual scene. Along the side-roads parallel to the Euphrates River - young men stood under streetlights, each holding a book and studying.
Curious about why they were standing there at such a late hour, I asked a colleague from Deir ez-Zor. He explained that the city lives in semi-darkness due to heavy destruction of its infrastructure and intense power cuts, so, high school and college students have no choice but to stand for hours under the few lighting poles, installed by humanitarian organizations, to study for their exams since they have no electricity at home. This was the reality of hundreds studying for their exams this summer - a reality marked by pain and resilience, where every day is a struggle to cope.
Seeing this, I could not help but think of all the girls who do not even have the option to study under streetlights, given the conservative nature of the community in Deir Ez-Zor. Their dreams and aspirations are often pushed back by all the hardships and societal norms.
Young people in Syria face a bleak future. With limited access to employment their prospects are uncertain. This generation of youths grew up knowing nothing but conflict, and their dreams are often overshadowed by the harsh realities of survival, especially with high unemployment rates, which soared to 52 percent in 2023.
A Forgotten Crisis
Despite overwhelming challenges, the crisis in my country has become a forgotten one. The world's attention has shifted to other conflicts, leaving Syrians to fend for themselves with shrinking resources. The need for humanitarian and longer-term aid remains urgent, but funding is dwindling. Donor countries have only fulfilled 21% of their pledges to support Syrians so far this year. This shortfall has dire consequences for the people, who continue to face immense daily challenges.
Every day, we meet countless Syrians in desperate need of assistance. The lack of sufficient funding means we have to make tough decisions about where to allocate our limited resources. This often means prioritizing the most urgent cases, while knowing that many others are still in dire need.
On World Humanitarian Day, we should remember that every time we support a woman transform her life, thousands of Syrian women still need support to take their first steps towards independence. Every time we supply water to families, we should remember that thousands more are still struggling to meet their basic water needs. Every time we install streetlights, thousands are still walking in complete darkness. Every time we help someone start a business; we should remember that hundreds of thousands of Syrians are struggling for such opportunities.
We must remember Syria's ongoing suffering, a country still grappling with the aftermath of a conflict that began 13 years ago.