Let’s act for Syria’s spice-sellers, for the carpenters, for the widows caring for disabled sons
By Matthew Carter, frontline reporter
As the Syrian crisis enters its tenth year, the constant flow of bad news can test our ability to be moved by human suffering.
Reporting seems to focus on cities, armies and politicians we don’t know, making it all too easy to forget the human stories that underpin this crisis.
I feel lucky to have visited Syria. Everyone I met has been affected by the crisis – whether through the loss of a family member or home, injury, or the closure of the local school or small business.
But I found remarkably resilient and welcoming people living in a culturally rich and enthralling country. The ancient desert ruins of Palmyra were once awash with tourists. There are still souks, spice sellers, carpenters and fruit sellers working on every street corner. Silk from the country’s capital, Damascus, was used on the Queen’s wedding dress.
I feel lucky that I got to know, if only briefly, what a magical place it really is.
Which, of course, makes the tragedy of the last nine years even greater.
One area just beginning to pick up the pieces is the suburb of Eastern Ghouta.
Situated on the outskirts of Damascus, it is best known in the west as the scene of a five-year siege.
But people from across Damascus used to come to Ghouta to buy furniture. In the hollowed-out husks of the remaining concrete tower blocks craftsmen ply their trade again.
Yet there is total devastation for as far as the eye can see. There is not a building – not a breezeblock wall – without signs of war.
Most of the remaining buildings stand with at least a corner or front exposed – their concrete floors folded in on themselves, crumpled up like discarded papier mache models. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.
HE TELLS ME THAT HIS EYE BECAME INFECTED DURING THIS TIME. WITHOUT ACCESS TO MEDICAL TREATMENT, HE WAS LEFT WITH LITTLE CHOICE BUT TO ENDURE THE AGONY OF IT DYING STILL IN ITS SOCKET.
On a cold and bright morning late last year I saw British Red Cross partner the Syrian Arab Red Crescent (SARC) giving hygiene kits to people in need.
These include essentials such as soap and toothbrushes for those who have lost even their most basic supplies.
There I meet 70-year-old Mahmoud. He, like so many of the 400,000 people trapped in Ghouta, was at times forced to shelter underground.
He tells me that his eye became infected during this time. Without access to medical treatment, he was left with little choice but to endure the agony of it dying still in its socket.

On a cold and bright morning late last year I saw British Red Cross partner the Syrian Arab Red Crescent (SARC) giving hygiene kits to people in need.
These include essentials such as soap and toothbrushes for those who have lost even their most basic supplies.
There I meet 70-year-old Mahmoud. He, like so many of the 400,000 people trapped in Ghouta, was at times forced to shelter underground.
He tells me that his eye became infected during this time. Without access to medical treatment, he was left with little choice but to endure the agony of it dying still in its socket.
Elsewhere, I meet Om Radwan, a widow caring for her elderly mother and two disabled sons.
The four of them live in a shop front thanks to the charity of a neighbour.
Their floor is lined with Red Cross mattresses and blankets.
I’ve been in houses where, despite a strategically placed wardrobe, you can see holes made by mortar shells that are big enough to drive a car through.
But, sitting on the padded floor of this place, holding her son’s hand, this situation feels all the more shocking.
Om Radwan maintains her composure throughout our conversation, telling of the loss of her husband and the days spent sheltering in total darkness.
It’s only when I ask her about the future, and about what she hopes for, that she breaks down.
I’ve seen it with full-time carers in the UK too – my mum was one. They are so caught up in their task that they have no time to think about themselves, their lot and how it might be improved.
I hope that Om Radwan will get the support she and her family need, from the Red Cross or other organisations, to make life better in the future.
You can support our work in Syria by donating to our Syria Crisis Appeal.
To date, the Red Cross has reached almost six million of the most vulnerable people through our dedicated partner the Syrian Arab Red Crescent.
These remarkable people have already survived so much. As the Syrian crisis enters its tenth year, now is not the time to let its prolonged nature dull our compassion.
About Matthew Carter
Matthew Carter is a communications delegate with the British Red Cross.
Syria Crisis Appeal
You can support people affected by the crisis in Syria. To learn more about how your donation could help, click 'DONATE' to visit our Syria Crisis Appeal page.
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