In April 2025, I returned to Syria for the first time in my adult life. My father’s family is from Aleppo, and we used to visit every year when I was a child. That ended abruptly in 2011 when peaceful protests against the dictatorial Assad regime spiralled into civil war. The years ground on and what followed was over a decade of bloodshed, foreign interference, destruction and mass displacement — including most of my own family.
Ironically my Syrian heritage kept me from returning even after the fighting began to die down. Like many Syrians abroad, if I tried to enter the country I risked being conscripted into Assad’s army. So, I was forced to watch from the side lines as hope for a united free Syria faded. Then in December last year, a surprising shift occurred: the Assad regime suddenly fell to the rebel group Hayat Tahrir al Sham (HTS). The situation changed almost overnight, and we could cautiously dream of a different future for Syria.
My journey began on April 11th, when my father and I took a taxi from Beirut to Damascus. At the Lebanese border, newly appointed officials were still finding their feet, but the old system remained—we were waved through smoothly, with my 2010 entry record still on file. This was a stark contrast to the past, when bribes were expected and checkpoints were frequent; once, my dad passed through 80 just to reach Aleppo. After two nights in Damascus, we continued north—stopping in Homs before taking a coach to Aleppo, where we stayed with my Nana for the next 10 days.
Life in the Syria
The Syrian economy is struggling after 14 years of civil war and out-of-control inflation. Yet, the markets are busy hives of activity. People trade all kinds of goods: fish, vegetables, dried fruits, nuts, clothes, scarves, tools, jewellery, soap. Much is a luxury to most Syrians, 90% of whom live in poverty. Meat, for example, is only available to families with a stable income. Bags of cash are needed for even basic purchases — I became a millionaire in Syrian pounds after exchanging just $100. Long queues form daily at state bakeries for subsidised bread, and many sell their share simply to survive. With little work available, makeshift stalls have sprung wherever there’s traffic, crowding the streets. Overall, there’s promising activity, but the situation remains chaotic.
Public services are ticking along with mixed reliability. Power cuts are periodic; with electricity from the state available only a few hours a day. Shipping container-sized generators grumble on every other street, supplying those who can afford it. In Aleppo, water flows only a few days a week, so many people stockpile what they can in plastic containers. One positive is the availability of cheaper fuel, sold in 25L plastic bottles from car boots. Syria was never known for orderly traffic, but the roads have now descended further into chaos. A few neatly uniformed wardens stand at busy intersections, but right of way is entirely dependent on speed and assertiveness. Red lights are optional —but somehow, it all moves. Amid all of this, Syrians are finding ways to adapt.
Voices from Syria
There is a mosaic of opinions on the transitional government. Most are happy to see the back of Assad and his Mukhabarat (secret police). In the past, politics were rarely discussed — agents could punish anyone for a whisper of dissent. Now, Syrians are eager to share their views, and some of the most interesting conversations were with taxi drivers. One proudly adorned his car with flags, “Syria is beautiful!” he proclaimed, praising the transitional government. Others were less impressed. Another driver had lost his job when the state-owned cement factory where he worked was shut down. Many were frustrated by the lack of public services and were impatiently waiting for real improvements in living conditions. Young people still long for opportunities abroad, at least until conditions improve.
War has entrenched deep divisions that still shape Syrian society. I noticed that the transitional government’s ascendancy has resulted in the empowerment of extremist voices. A friend told me how some of his university friends had suddenly adopted a fundamentalist attitude. Such proclamations only fuels instability, and it is troubling to hear.
The Scars of War
Reminders of war are all around. The road from Homs to Aleppo highlighted the scale of the devastation — town after town deserted, buildings reduced to hollow shells. In central Homs and Aleppo many walls are still peppered with bullet holes. Between the ruins children sell what they can, beg, play, smoke and ride motorbikes. These are the orphans of war, who have lived their entire lives in conflict. I was struck that the time I spent getting an education, they have spent fighting for survival. Every child deserves a peaceful future, and it is imperative to rebuild Syria’s schools so that they might build better lives.
From Damascus to Homs our driver shared his experience of the war. He was conscripted into the army but managed to bribe his way into staying out of the fighting. He was promoted and given a well-paid office job but still his entire salary went to his commanding officers. However exploitative, this was better than the alternative; he explained how the regime used amphetamines to numb terrified young conscripts before sending them to die. I heard similar stories from people whose friends and family members abducted for minor acts of defiance. Those who returned from regime prisons came back broken. These stories are a harrowing reminder of the cruelty of Assad’s rule, which still casts a long shadow over Syria.
Aleppo’s Old City, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, once thrived with ancient souqs and winding streets. Much of it was destroyed. Al-Madina Souq, was once the largest covered market in the world, filled with dazzling sights, sounds, smells, exotic spices, perfumes and artisanal crafts. They say a blind man could walk through the souq guided solely by the enchanting fragrances filling the air. Most of it was destroyed by barrel bombs and mortar shells. While vendors are slowly returning, it remains a shadow of its former self. There are inspiring restorations being done to the bazaar and throughout the old city, employing and training local people to revive the historic structures. It will take substantial time and investment, but I maintain hope these ancient wonders can be rebuilt.
Beauty, History, and Hospitality
Despite the ravages of war, Syria remains a cultural centre. From the gold mosaics of the Umayyad Mosque to the layered history of Roman colonnades and Byzantine monasteries, reminders of Syria’s diversity and legacy are everywhere. On Palm Sunday, we visited Sednaya monastery and were met with greetings from locals, palm tree decorations, and gifts of frankincense and olive leaves. It was beautiful to see a live celebration of Syria’s diversity.
In Aleppo, the mighty citadel, still towers above the city, a symbol of resilience. This site has been the city’s centre for over 5,000 years, surviving invasions and natural disasters. Standing before the it, drinking in its immensity, I felt comfort. If this structure can endure, so can Syria.
Nothing compared to reuniting with my family after 15 years. Nana met us with a tidal wave of hugs, kisses, and blessings. “Aboos qalbak”, she said — “I kiss your heart”. Sitting with her three children and grandson together for the first time in 14 years she proudly announced, “I am a tree with many flowers!”. We feasted on falafel, stuffed vine leaves, homemade shish kebabs, kibbeh and Aleppo’s famous Zaatar.
It was incredibly heart-warming to see Syrian hospitality unchanged by hardship. Whenever we visited friends and family we were welcomed with cups of strong Arabic coffee, fresh fruit, and baskets of neatly wrapped sweets. No one took no for an answer — the food kept coming until I was full and caffeinated. Compassion radiates from every doorway in Syria.
Final Thoughts
This trip was one of contrasts. I was overjoyed to see my family, amazed by Syria’s culture and history, and delighted by its cuisine. But my nostalgia was fractured by the destruction and poverty evident across the country. There are serious obstacles to overcome — broken public services, children on the streets, and bitter divisions still remain. Yet day to day, people have learnt to make it work. Syrians have shown remarkable resilience, and I have no doubt that given the chance, they will flourish again.
About the Author
Saami is a British Syrian writer with a BSc in politics and international relations from Bath University. He specialises in international security, Middle Eastern politics, and international migration. He has worked with charities in the UK, Greece, and Lebanon.
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