‘Prison for free men’: A shackled life in Syria’s Idlib

BEIRUT: Its south is a volatile frontline, its northern border an open-air encampment for the displaced and its centre a teeming urban jungle.

Syria’s jihadist-controlled region of Idlib is home to some three million people who have been variously affected by a surge in regime attacks since April.

Ghost town

in the embattled town of Kafranbel, streets are empty, and house curtains are drawn.

“It looks like a desert lit only by moonlight,” said Mohammad alSheikh, a 28-year-old activist.

“No one dares to go out.” Located in Idlib’s southern countryside, Kafranbel was not always a “ghost town,” the activist told AFP from Kafranbel.

fans during a local tournament, their loud cheers rising above the pitch.

But it’s residents have largely avoided open skies since the latest flare-up hit markets, hospitals, water wells, schools and bakeries over the past two months.

The violence has forced most of

while trapping those who remain in bunkers and homes, he added.

The activist said he no longer goes to the mosque, fearing regime air strikes during prayers.

Like most residents, he also avoids shopping at open-air markets because he believes they are especially vulnerable to attacks.

“You become a prisoner in your own house,” he said.

“It’s a prison, but for free men.”

Idlib — designated a demilitarized zone in September under an agreement between Russia and Turkey — has come under increased bombardment by the regime and its Russian ally since former Al-Qaeda

most of the province at the start of the year.

Safe haven

Violence spiked in April, leaving more than 490 civilians dead, according to the Britain- based Syrian

others, the United Nations says, sparking fears of one of the worst humanitarian

In northern Idlib, near the border with Turkey, olive groves and broad rocky plains have become a safe haven for thousands of

Abdul Monem al-Shamaa lives under a tarpaulin-covered tree, along with his wife,

Horma in May and just this month, his silvery green tree, he said.

bombardment, it is not ideal for family life.

“There is nothing here but trees and arid land,” said the 37-year-old.

He spends most of his time foraging for food, trekking at least 5 kilometers to resort to the only funds he has stored away: a modest $18.

“Everything has changed,” Shamaa told AFP from northern Idlib.

“I used to live in a house, that is now destroyed,” he said.

“I used to sleep and my children’s bellies would be full, but now, there is little sleep and a lot of hunger.”

Bustling capital

The situation is starkly different near Idlib province’s eponymous capital.

Barring sporadic air strikes on the edges of the city, the HTS stronghold has been largely spared heightened attacks, which would have sent tens of thousands of

In the town of Binnish, less than 10 kilometers away from Idlib city, “the markets are bustling, the people are out on the streets and in restaurants,” said Khayriya Ninal, a 22-year-old teacher.

It is even more crowded now after thousands of displaced people moved closer

violence, she said.

“People abroad think that bombardment means that life stops,” said Ninal.

“Sometimes it is like this, but people also tend to resume their lives in a strangely quick way,” she told AFP from Binnish.

She gave the example of her house which was hit by an air strike last year, only a few days before the Muslim Eid al-Fitr holidays.

arrived,” she said.

Even now, in light of heightened attacks on the region, she said she is busy planning her brother’s wedding next month. “Life goes on,” Ninal said.

But the shadow of a feared government assault looms large.

- ding so that it can happen before violence spills into my area.”