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Walking through the rubble of Yarmouk is stepping into a living nightmare. Mountains of debris cover what was once a vib...
10/03/2026

Walking through the rubble of Yarmouk is stepping into a living nightmare. Mountains of debris cover what was once a vibrant camp, and trying to piece together the memories of war—the sexual violence, the kidnappings, the terror—is almost unbearable. This horror was real.

Dr. Khaldoun, a urologist, lived through all of it. He wasn’t born in Yarmouk, but he spent almost his entire life there, even during the siege. He treated patients while hunger claimed lives, while terror ruled the streets, and bombs destroyed thousands of homes. During the siege, people had nothing. “The only things that were free and available were air and death.” Food was scarce, and the plant they called “bird’s feet” became their only source of nutrition—even though it caused acute kidney failure. Hospitals had no dialysis machines, and Dr. Khaldoun improvised treatments for dozens of patients. For six months, that plant was all they had to eat.

Sexual violence was used systematically as a weapon. At checkpoints, women faced harassment in exchange for bread—or even ci******es. Some were kidnapped and r***d inside Al-Basher Mosque, and sometimes loudspeakers broadcast their screams so the entire camp could hear. Extremists punished civilians mercilessly: one cousin was thrown from a fifth-floor building for alleged homosexuality, and a young man accused of being the passive partner in a homosexual relationship was executed by ISIS despite Dr. Khaldoun’s medical report stating there was nothing conclusive.

ISIS terrorized homes and clinics, forcing women to cover their faces, men to grow beards, and interrogating Dr. Khaldoun for issuing medical reports to protect civilians. “Within a week I had written hundreds of such reports. ISIS began to suspect something was happening.” He spent two weeks in prison, a week under torture and a week under interrogation, before they released him because they could not prove anything ⬇️

March 8, International Women’s Day. So much still to be done. Many times I ask myself what more I can do for them—beauti...
08/03/2026

March 8, International Women’s Day. So much still to be done. Many times I ask myself what more I can do for them—beautiful and brave survivors of sexual violence in conflicts who, despite fear and despite the pain of memory, lift their heads high and tell their stories.

Today I want to tell you about Noor (name changed to protect her identity). I met her in Damascus a few days ago. She is a survivor of sexual violence under the regime of Bashar Al-Assad.

I saw her walking from a distance. I was a little nervous; I imagine she was too. The night before I couldn’t sleep. It always makes me tense to know that I am going to interview a survivor of CRSV because I worry that the person might not feel comfortable. Personally, I hate scavenger journalists who immediately jump to asking about r**e or other types of sexual violence, and I am very afraid of ever falling into that myself.

I thanked her for her time and her courage. “This place feels safe to me. Whatever comes from speaking here, I don’t mind,” she replied.

In the years prior to 2011, Noor lived with her husband and life was good, according to her. But with the beginning of the war in Syria, things gradually worsened. In 2015, Noor, her husband, and their three children were displaced to the south of the country.

“In 2023, I was forced to travel to Damascus for medical treatment because of a health condition. When I reached the checkpoint between Suwayda and Damascus — a checkpoint affiliated with Air Force Intelligence — they detained me,” she said.

Noor was initially transferred to the Palestine Branch. “From the moment I entered Palestine Branch, nobody knew anything about me anymore,” she stated. This was the regime’s modus operandi: to completely erase people from the face of the earth, as if the ground itself had swallowed them.

At the same time that she was entering hell, her family was desperately trying to locate her. They went to the checkpoint where Noor had been detained, and officers there confirmed what had happened.

“They told me the reason for my detention was that they wanted to conduct a drug test. They accused me of drug use and drug trafficking in cooperation with terrorists ⬇️

06/03/2026

A few months ago, in January of this year, I was invited to speak at the Scottish Parliament during a session on Tigray.

I’d like to share this intervention with you and once again thank Mary’s Meals UK for creating these spaces for conversation and advocacy. I’m also deeply grateful to Anna Gessesse, Paloma García Ovejero, Rowena, Lord David Alton, and the entire APPG at the UK Parliament.

Tigray, we continue 💛

“This is me, this is my home. This is my home, okay? This whole building is ours. Do you see where I am sleeping? All of...
04/03/2026

“This is me, this is my home. This is my home, okay? This whole building is ours. Do you see where I am sleeping? All of this is ours. This is me. Okay? This is me,” Ibrahim said as he showed videos of the rubble of his home.

He, his family, and Abdu’s family fled southern Lebanon; they are now living on the street, sheltering from the rain in an electrical substation in Beirut.

For Telegraph.

Israeli attacks on Beirut for
02/03/2026

Israeli attacks on Beirut for

Syria, the country of rights stolen by the hands of many, the land of broken dreams where hope is reborn like a fragile ...
25/02/2026

Syria, the country of rights stolen by the hands of many, the land of broken dreams where hope is reborn like a fragile flame that ignites once again from the ashes.

Yarmouk, with its streets filled with the rubble of buildings and schools, sees life return, as children reclaim their right to learn, to play, and to the freedom of expression.

Syria breathes, cautiously, at least for now.
Syria does not rest, it seeks justice for those who are no longer here, for those who are missing and whose whereabouts remain unknown, and for those who raise their voices on their behalf.

4 years of massive war, nothing to celebrate, much to think about.On this long journey, I’ve met so many people, and tho...
24/02/2026

4 years of massive war, nothing to celebrate, much to think about.

On this long journey, I’ve met so many people, and those of you who know me know that half of my heart will always belong to the Ukrainian people.

People who, despite enduring so much pain, uncertainty, and fear, have always opened the doors of their lives and homes to me.

Because February 24 should be remembered every day. It’s not just on that date that the war returns. The entire country has been living a life surrounded by challenges every second, every minute, every week for 4 years.

Україно, я тебе люблю, я тебе обіймаю ❤️‍🩹

Life is slowly returning to Yarmouk, a devastated place now covered by a permanent cloud of dust, the result of constant...
21/02/2026

Life is slowly returning to Yarmouk, a devastated place now covered by a permanent cloud of dust, the result of constant repairs by those trying to rebuild their homes within the battered skeletons of destroyed buildings.

Children are still children; they walk, jump, and ride bicycles among piles of rubble where those who once lived on those streets were trapped.

“Danger of death,” reads a piece of graffiti looming in the darkness inside one of the hundreds of buildings devastated ...
20/02/2026

“Danger of death,” reads a piece of graffiti looming in the darkness inside one of the hundreds of buildings devastated by the war in Jobar.

Abuselmo did not die, but he lost his leg in 2014. His home is now part of the landscape of rubble left by the bombings carried out by the Syrian, Russian, and Iranian armies.

He now lives on the first floor of a building opposite his former home, which belongs to his parents. There, he has no windows or basic supplies, yet he says he is used to hardship. “When it’s cold, I sleep holding my wife,” he says.

Jobar, located on the outskirts of Damascus, is one of the neighborhoods hardest hit by the war. The danger of death still lurks for the curious and for those who return to try to rebuild, as anti-personnel mines and unexploded ordnance remain.

The current Syrian government has blocked all entrances, leaving only a single entry and exit to that labyrinth of death frozen in time.

15/02/2026

“The Scars of the War” has evolved over the years from the story of a survivor of Conflict-Related Sexual Violence in the Tigray war into a global project that aims, through a forensic approach, to tell the stories of CRSV survivors across borders, because these are not isolated cases and this is not new. It is a global weapon of war that has been used for years, regardless of religion, skin color, or ethnicity.

After working in two countries, Ethiopia and Ukraine, “The Scars of the War” is expanding to Middle East, thanks to another media outlet that believed in this project and decided to trust me to tell it.

Stay tuned, as many new developments are coming! Thanks to everyone who has believed in and supported this work 🩷

Archive, Beirut, Lebanon, October 2024, for UNHCR.In those days, the Lebanese capital was overwhelmed. In neighborhoods ...
08/02/2026

Archive, Beirut, Lebanon, October 2024, for UNHCR.

In those days, the Lebanese capital was overwhelmed. In neighborhoods like Hamra, known for their constant movement, it was almost impossible to drive; people everywhere, cars belonging to people displaced from the south parked double- and triple-parked.

Dozens of educational centers had, within a matter of days, become shelters for hundreds of Lebanese.
War spares no one: the sick, children, the elderly. Everything they once had had evaporated.

War shows no consideration, neither for those undergoing treatment inside hospitals nor for those outside, also fighting to survive.

Not far from this IDP center, in the square by the mosque, a chaotic fight broke out between adults and children over mattresses that a private individual had brought to help those now sleeping on the street.
When need, fear, and uncertainty tighten their grip, the instinct for survival takes over. Children fighting adults, the elderly fighting the young.

I wonder where all those who once lived along the beachfront have gone, the ones who took refuge beneath the lifeguard houses, those who stayed in the sky bar or in Beirut’s schools.

The war has eased their hunger, but it remains latent, waiting, watching.

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