“Aleppo. My City.”

The past couple of days have been very emotional for me.

I have so much to say, but at the same time, I find it hard to express myself.

In 2016, around this time eight years ago, we didn’t know if we would survive. We were in the last hospital in Aleppo after six months of siege by Assad, Russia, Iran, and Hezbollah militias. Sama was about to turn one year old, and I was pregnant with my second daughter, Taima.

It was clear we had lost Aleppo and that we were going to be forcibly displaced. But despite everything, we held onto hope that something might change. The situation was so horrible that people started fleeing toward regime-held areas. Sadly, some of our friends were detained and tortured to death, while others survived by some miracle.

Before we left, we said goodbye to everything. We left our hearts there and moved forward, terrified that we might not make it.

We survived, but the loss of Aleppo remains a wound in all of us.

Aleppo became a distant dream I held onto with all my being. I sleep and wake up obsessing over it. People who know me often say they see it in my eyes, in my cooking, in the details of my home, and in the stories I tell.

The greatest heartbreak of my life is that I can’t take my daughters to live in, or even visit, the place they should belong to—the place where they should grow up.

I made for Sama film and started the Action for Sama campaign to not give up on that dream, to promise myself, my daughters that I will never forget Aleppo.

Eight years on, Aleppo is still a deep, unhealed scar.

As Syrians, we were abandoned, betrayed, and crushed. We carry a pain bigger than this world.

Because of our trauma, We don’t know how to celebrate, and we can’t believe that tomorrow might hold something better.

Today, there’s a new chance to go back, to have hope again.

There’s immense joy, but it doesn’t feel real. There’s also a huge lump in our throats and a fear of what’s coming next—whether it’s the regime bombing and burning Aleppo and everyone in it, like they did in east aleppo from 2012 till 2016 and all the other cities out of its authority, or the type of governance which might complicate people’s lives, or the cycle of negotiations between countries where we, Syrians, and our rights are never a priority.

All of these fears are valid, and no one has the right to dismiss them, just as people have the right to return to their homes, detainees have the right to freedom, and everyone has the right to fight for and dream of a better life.

There’s so much work to be done, and even more waiting ahead of us.

However, Everyone who has those different fears agrees that the biggest risk and threat is coming from the sky, the Syrian and Russian airstrike attacks. So the international community needs to prioritise protecting civilians from such attacks. A no-fly zone to protect civilians is needed more than ever.On the 1st of December, two hospitals were targeted in Aleppo, and on the 2nd of December, the regime and Russia targeted 3 hospitals in Idlib. This needs to be stopped immediately.

We also need support for Syrian civil society to respond to the huge needs in the newly liberated areas across all sectors— humanitarian aid, health, education, shelter, human rights documentation, and governance.

For those of us watching from afar, our role is to amplify the voices of people on the ground, to empower them, and to never stay silent in the face of violations. We must never underestimate the efforts of those working tirelessly to make things better.

Each of us can contribute, support, and make a difference.

The situation can change at any moment, and it’s our duty to learn from what we’ve been through and do everything we can to make things better.

Waad