'You can breathe': On the streets of Damascus after Assad

In the heart of Damascus, a wave of emotions swept through the streets as news broke that President Bashar al-Assad had fled the country. This moment marked a significant turning point for many Syrians, who have endured over five decades of authoritarian rule. A middle-aged woman, visibly shaken, shared her story with a BBC reporter. She recounted the tragic loss of many family members under Assad's regime, some of whom had perished in prison. As she leaned out of a car window, tears streamed down her face, reflecting the pain and hope that filled the air. The atmosphere was electric, with chants echoing through the streets and rebel flags waving proudly. The news of Assad's departure prompted many Syrians living in Lebanon to rush to the Masnaa border crossing, eager to return to their homeland. Initially, the reporters had planned to spend a day at the border, but the unfolding events led them to pack a small bag, hoping to witness the changes in Damascus firsthand. As they approached the capital, they encountered a tall man named Hussein, who was trying to leave Syria. He was in tears, expressing his fear for what might happen next. 'We don't know anything about what is going to happen inside. They might kill us, it's chaos,' he said, revealing the uncertainty that loomed over the city. Hussein had brought his family with him but lacked the necessary documents to cross into Lebanon. Upon entering Syria, the reporters found the road to Damascus wide open, a stark contrast to the years of conflict. As they drew closer to the city, signs of an army in retreat became evident. Abandoned military vehicles and discarded uniforms littered the road, a testament to the rapid changes taking place. Although traffic flowed through the streets, many shops remained closed, and the central Umayyad Square was filled with people celebrating the end of Assad's long reign. Armed men fired their weapons into the air, creating a cacophony of celebration. Amidst the joy, a little boy who had been injured was carried away, a reminder of the violence that had plagued the country. Civilians drove around, flashing peace signs and expressing their belief that life would improve now that Assad was no longer in power. An elderly woman, tears of joy in her eyes, exclaimed, 'Thank you, thank you! The tyrant has fallen! ' Her words resonated with many who had suffered under the regime. A man with four young children shared his overwhelming happiness, stating, 'It's an indescribable feeling. We are so happy! ' He reflected on the years of dictatorship and the time he spent in prison in 2014. Now, he felt a sense of freedom and hope for a brighter future. He called out to those who had left Syria, inviting them to return, saying, 'Our hearts and homes are open for you. ' Meanwhile, the whereabouts of Assad remained a mystery until reports surfaced that he had arrived in Moscow. The reporters made their way to his now-abandoned residence in Damascus, which had become a site for looting. People were seen carrying out furniture and valuables, with no one attempting to stop them. While the rebels had brought a sense of freedom, the lack of security raised concerns among the citizens. Alaa, a father of three, stood outside with his neighbors, voicing his worries about the transition of power. 'The transition has to happen in a proper and correct way,' he emphasized. He expressed his fear of even mentioning Assad's name, highlighting the drastic change in the atmosphere. 'You know, two days back, I wasn't able to say that he's selfish; it would have been a big problem,' he said. Alaa acknowledged the newfound ability to express opinions without fear, stating, 'You can actually breathe, you can walk around. You can give your opinion without being scared. ' However, he remained cautious, having lived through years of false hope during the civil war. The people of Syria now find themselves in a delicate balance between joy and fear, yearning for peace while grappling with the uncertainty of what lies ahead.