No Way Home: The Scars of War in Syria Remain

In Idlib, in northwest Syria, the ruins are gradually replaced by towns made up of tents and semi-concrete structures, dotted randomly amongst the waves of olive groves that stretch all the way to the Turkish border.

“All the tents and shelters that have no roof are now vacant,” says Yahya Abboud, a health promoter with the medical organisation Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF). He’s pointing at the rows of tents without tarpaulin covering them, spread across the hilly landscape. “They’re the lucky ones – their homes are still standing, so they’ve packed up and gone home.”

After the war began in Syria, over 14 years ago, millions of people were displaced both inside and outside the country. Although the former Assad regime fell in December 2024, there are still approximately 7.2 million people displaced in Syria.

"Many people have tried to go home since the Assad regime fell, but there are still millions of people who have stayed here in Idlib in these informal camps,” says Yahya. “Some have returned only to find their homes gone, their towns barren, with no services.”

14 years of displacement

Walid is just one of the millions of people who remain displaced in Idlib. After the end of the war, he and his 13 family members returned to their village in southern Aleppo governorate only to find their home and village obliterated.

“On the first days after the Assad regime fell, we packed our bags and prepared to return home after years of patience,” says Walid, sitting in the makeshift living room of his shelter in Al Kuwaiti camp in northern Idlib.

“We dreamed, after 14 years of suffering through war, fear, and destruction, of returning to our homes, to the land where we grew up, to see our children living normal lives.

“But we were shocked by what we saw — a ghost town, ruined houses, farmland that looked like deserted forests, covered in rubble, with debris more than two metres high. It was desolate and gloomy, teeming with snakes and the remains of mines and bombs left behind by the Assad regime.”

Walid and his family left their small village in southern Aleppo in 2011 after the Assad regime began bombing the area. Over the following 14 years, they moved at least seven times, forced to keep moving, as deadly airstrikes followed them from village to village.

But it was in the town of Abu Duhur, where the family were sheltering in 2012, where irreparable tragedy struck. “Upon our arrival in Abu Duhur, we found that most of the houses had been destroyed. But some were still standing, so we entered one house that hadn't been demolished and took shelter there. We lived there for a year or a little more,” says Walid.

“But not long after, we were surprised by more airstrikes. One of the strikes targeted a gathering of displaced people, killing nearly 70 people right before our eyes.”

During the strikes, multiple members of Walid’s family were injured while trying to flee. His mother was killed, while two of his daughters were permanently paralyzed. His young baby, Hamza, was wounded by shrapnel in the eyes, and his son, Jummah Mansour, was burned and badly injured with shrapnel. He was left semi-paralyzed.

“I started looking for my mother, my son, and the others, but I could no longer distinguish between my son and my neighbour's son, as everyone was completely burned by the bombing,” says Walid. “Then I received news through reports that my son, Jumaah Mansour, was in a hospital in Saraqib.”

It took Walid two days to locate all of his children, who had been taken to different medical facilities in both Aleppo and Idlib.

After the attack the family moved to an area called "Miras Cave", located about 15 kilometres away, where they lived for six or seven months. But the aerial bombardments did not stop, forcing them to move again and again. They finally settled at Al Kuwaiti camp in northern Idlib where they remain today.

Ibrahim’s story

The family of 14 share a small cement shelter divided into three small rooms with a tiny kitchen. They rely entirely on humanitarian aid and services, which have withered in the last year due to funding cuts from US Aid and an exodus of international organisations since the fall of the Assad Assad regime.

One month ago, Walid’s youngest son, Ibrahim, died of kidney failure due to a lack of medication.

“When we noticed his condition deteriorating, we took him to two doctors at a hospital in Adana.”

Ibrahim was prescribed a foreign medication that is rarely available in pharmacies in Idlib and that is expensive. After a while, the family was forced to reduce his medicine dosage due to a lack of money. His condition worsened and he developed acute kidney inflammation.

“I was torn between providing for my family and providing Ibrahim with treatment. The world was closing in on us on all sides, and we were forced to reduce his medication dosage, which worsened his condition.

“He passed away. He was only three years old,” says Walid, as he looks down at a small picture of his youngest son smiling with his brothers in the camp.

Services dwindle for millions in need

Due to a lack of funding and a healthcare system destroyed by war and massive funding cuts, specialised medical care in Syria has become a luxury. MSF is one of the few medical organisations who offer free healthcare in the camps, which host millions of people in Idlib and Aleppo govenorates. The MSF mobile clinics provide basic healthcare, sexual and reproductive health and mental healthcare, however, for more specialised care people have to travel to major cities.

But it’s not just medical care that is scarce in this mountainous and vast farm country. Water and other basic services have also dwindled, especially since the fall of the Assad regime, as many aid organisations have left for larger cities such as Homs and Aleppo.

For Walid, the lack of specialised care available in the area weighs heavily on the 44-year-old father. Two of his daughters, Raghad and Ghofran are disabled and bed-ridden, while Jummah Mansour and Hamza remain permanently affected by their injuries.

“Currently, we can barely meet our basic needs. The average worker's daily income is no more than 150 to 200 Syrian pounds, barely enough to buy nine loaves of bread.

“Previously, the garbage removal process in the camp worked well, and everything was organized. However, after the liberation, we began to face several problems, the first of which was the decrease in the amount of water available, as its supply became extremely limited.”

In addition to the already dire living conditions in camps, funding cuts by the US government have added to the suffering, severely limiting people’s access to medical care. These funding cuts have had a direct impact on the suspension of medical activities in northwest Syria.

According to WHO, as of May 2025, people in all 14 governorates in Syria have been affected by United States funding cuts that have forced more than 280 health facilities to reduce capacity or suspend activities completely. This includes 41 hospitals, 149 primary healthcare centres, 41 mobile teams and 49 specialised centres. While over half of Syria's pre-war population remains displaced, the highest level since 2011, 16.7 million Syrians require life-saving aid according to the UN. But despite the bleak situation, Walid remains hopeful for the future of Syria.

“Our hopes were fulfilled, and the era of injustice—the reign of that tyrant [Assad] under whom we had suffered for so long—ended,” he says.

“We hope that our budding children will complete their studies, learn and rebuild a new life for themselves. God willing, they will make us forget the days of fear and terror that we have gone through, in addition to the destruction, displacement and humiliation we have lived through.”