Marcelle Shehwaro
Very few Syrians have not experienced compulsory displacement. The fact of having to move from one place to another, abandoning the tangible present while ruminating on memories over and over again until they’re worn out. And like many Syrians, I too have a story involving houses—“luckily”, I should add, because for hundreds of thousands of people... Continue Reading →
Perhaps I have overwhelmed you with the details of my personal loss, telling you in a previous article the story of my mother and the murderer that grew in me after she was killed. But today I don’t think I can talk about what’s going on in Syria without conveying to you the cries of... Continue Reading →
When I was asked to write about the Islamic State in Syria and Iraq (ISIS), I left the blank page open on my computer for several days. How was I to write about ISIS for others, for people who have not suffered the same amount of violence and chaos? And what responsibility do we as... Continue Reading →
For you to understand the situation more accurately, allow me to place you in the place and time it happened, and offer some details. The Time: October 7, 2013. It was the night my friend Abdulwahab Almulla, a rebel and an artist, was kidnapped. It happened during the period when kidnappings became common, before Syrians... Continue Reading →
On a very normal day, during lunch with a friend in Turkey, away from the pounding of bombs and death, and close to suffocation with guilt at being away from my city, enjoying luxuries like electricity and communications services while Aleppo is dying, I—being as much of a social media addict as the next... Continue Reading →
They told me from the first day that her husband was in prison, and that the songs I have the habit of singing could trigger her sadness. I wasn't particularly touched by that. We have become accustomed to hearing about the families of prisoners, as if it were normal, in Assad's Syria, to be imprisoned,... Continue Reading →
Since the part of Aleppo where I live was liberated from the Syrian government authorities, our electricity supply has been cut off as a collective punishment for a city on the verge of liberation. It doesn't matter whether you support or oppose the regime, because the ruler of the country behaves as if he is... Continue Reading →
Time and time again, I keep putting off writing this article. For someone who lost her mother to a lethal bullet, writing about mothers, and about Mother's Day, is not completely therapeutic. Even if we agree that writing has magical powers, some kinds of pain are simply too colossal. They wear down your body and... Continue Reading →
This would have been a different article if I had adhered to the saying which I was taught as a child: “Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.” I intended to write this last night, then realised my laptop battery was about to run out. I've had no electricity in my house... Continue Reading →
Before the Idea I realise this year how late we are in talking about the third anniversary of the Syrian revolution. It is as if delaying talk about it will change the depressing reality. We are marking the third year since the start of the revolution. A lot has changed in those three years,... Continue Reading →
On The Edge of Syria 