‘We can only pray to God’
Pictou man fears for loved ones trapped in Eastern Ghouta
Yasser Albarri prays every day. He prays for his three sisters and parents, who eat grass to survive and hide in caves to escape endless bombing raids by Russian and Syrian government warplanes.
He prays for them to escape the hell that is Eastern Ghouta, the Damascus suburb devastated by barrel bombs, artillery fire and poison gas attacks in a five-year siege.
“We can only pray to God,” said Albarri, who now lives in Pictou.
His parents, Noura and Khalid, together with Khada, Khawla and Rakhda now face a new threat as forces loyal to Syrian president Bashar al-Assad launched a ground offensive Sunday to capture rebel-held Eastern Ghouta.
Albarri’s family are among the 400,000 people the United Nations says are trapped in Eastern Ghouta, which has been under siege by government forces since 2013. It is the last rebel-held area near the capital Damascus.
The bombing and siege is ongoing despite the UN Security Council — including Assad’s Russian allies — having voted for a 30-day ceasefire “without delay.” Hundreds have been killed in the last week.
As a result, Albarri’s family have no electricity, no proper food, no medicines and no doctors, a situation worsened by the Syrian government’s deliberate bombing of hospitals in Eastern Ghouta.
“God help the righteous and take away from the pain,” Albarri told The News.
Albarri was living in Eastern Ghouta when the Syrian uprising broke out in March 2011.
The first months saw peaceful street demonstrations calling for political and social reform in Damascus and other cities.
However, the government hit back, massacring demonstrators and triggering violent rebellion that spiralled into full-scale civil war.
On Sept. 9, 2011, Albarri fled Syria for Algeria, where he stayed as a refugee for nearly six years.
Finally, on May 25, 2017, he arrived in Canada.
Albarri is now settling into his new home in Pictou. He lives in a modest wooden house with his wife and her cousin, Shadi Alaaeddin, together with his daughter, Nagham.
While he fears for his family every day, Albarri said that life in Canada helps him feel “happy and relaxed.”
Alaaeddin grew up just 12 kilometres from Eastern Ghouta in central Damascus, where he lived with his mother, Zahia, sister, Ayah and brother, Fadi.
In spring 2011, he was an army conscript in Homs, a city that would soon see fierce fighting between government troops and rebels that left it in ruins.
“I was at the end of my conscription when the war started,” said Alaaeddin. “Everything changed overnight.”
As unrest spread across Syria, his superiors kept him at the base, but Alaaeddin wanted no part in the war destroying his country.
He later made it home to Damascus, where he helped his mother take care of the family as he had done since his father died in 2009.
However, the price of basic foodstuffs and other essentials skyrocketed after war broke out.
While Alaaeddin soon managed to flee Syria, his mother and sisters still live in their small Damascus home, in a neighbourhood firmly under government control.
From their house, Zahia, Fadi and Ayah can see plumes of smoke on the eastern horizon from the bombs and rockets falling on Eastern Ghouta.
Every time there is a large explosion, their house shakes.
“We’re not living any life at all right now,” said Alaaeddin.
So far, he has been unable to bring his family to safety in Canada, as no one in Pictou County is able to sponsor them.
Indeed, neither Alaaeddin nor Albarri brought any photos of their loved ones with them, making the separation even more painful.
Their only communication with relatives trapped in Syria is either through Facebook or brief chats on WhatsApp.
The News asked to speak with Alaaeddin’s family, but doing so may be risky as all communications are monitored by the Syrian government.
But Alaaeddin had his own message for those people still in Damascus and Eastern Ghouta.
“God be with you. God save you. God won’t forget you,” said Alaaeddin.