Ammar Habib - The Heart of Aleppo - A Story of the Syrian Civil War

Taking the other road seems like nothing but folly. Going on—continuing towards Ballermourn—is a lost cause. The entire city is being razed to the ground. Thousands of buildings are now piles of wreckage and ash. Who am I to think that my home is safe and still standing?

I don’t know what Abbi, Ummi, and Aisha would have done when this all began. A part of me thinks they may have come searching for me. But where would they have begun? They wouldn’t know where to find me any more than I know where to find them. The better part of my mind asserts that they likely evacuated after realizing that they would soon be overrun. They were already packing when I left, weren’t they? Maybe they are trusting me to do the same thing and not go running into a war zone looking for them.

To the north, there is nothing. But to the west is salvation. I don’t have a choice. This isn’t a crossroads because there is no other path. There is only one option.

I was following Salman out of friendship and loyalty. He and Fatima are gone now. My eyes again water at the thought, but I hold back any tears. There is no time for that. I’ve shed too many tears since this all began. First Bilal. Then Jari. Now my two best friends. They’ve all given their lives so that I can live. I have to honor them by surviving. What good will come out of my demise? It’ll make their sacrifices mean nothing. I have to go west.

I sit up on the bed and swing my legs over the side. Taking a deep breath, I stare at the ground in front of me. I’ve made my choice.

…but why does it feel so wrong?

Sticking my hands into my pockets, I feel something in them. It’s a folded up paper. My eyes suddenly widen as I remember what it is. I’d all but forgotten about it after everything that’s happened. Taking a gulp, I slowly reveal it.

The note is just as I found it on Jari’s shelf, only a bit more worn out. The corners are a little beat down and folded, while the edges are starting to become discolored. However, the words on the exterior remain the same: Read this when you need it the most.

I thought so many times that I needed to read Jari’s words. But out of all the times I’ve needed direction or any sort of inspiration, this trumps them all. There is no shadow of doubt in my heart about that. With a deep breath, I slowly open the note. My hands are trembling. I unfold it once. Then again, revealing the words written by my long lost guardian. Unlike any time before, the words are not jumbled as I read them. They’re the clearest any written words have ever been, and each one goes directly into my heart:

The moment I saw you, Zaid, I was reminded of someone: myself. You wear the same eyes I did as a child. You often feel inept as I did. You often compare your failures to the success of others as I did. Your admiration for your brother and friends makes you feel as if you must be something that you’re not.

Learn the truth, Zaid. There is none who may rule over you unless you allow them. You are the captain of your soul. You are the king of your destiny. When you are at a crossroads, always follow your heart. When the masses are against you, when fear is on every side, and when it seems like you’re alone, that is when you should stand the tallest. That is when you plant yourself like a mountain, and you do what your heart knows is right. Even if death will be your only reward.

Be the heart of Aleppo. Be the light of hope.

Not long after reading that note, I’m out of bed. I can’t sit or lay down anymore. Jari’s words echo in my brain, drowning out every other fear-filled thought that has consumed me since waking up in this room. The longer I listen to his words and let them into my soul, the lighter the weight on my chest becomes.

I read the note more times than I can count. I was right all along about one thing: this isn’t a crossroads. There is only one path to take. I just couldn’t see it clearly enough.

The first light soon breaks through the darkness outside. Won’t be long now before the sun shows itself. Instead of fear for what this day may hold, something else takes root in my soul, something that I haven’t felt for a long time.

With the sack slung over my shoulder, I quickly tighten up my shoelaces before heading towards the bottom floor. This building was once a shop just like any other I’ve seen. Lining up the walls are family portraits. A family of five used to live here: a father, mother, and three daughters. There are countless pictures of them that were taken in various parts of Aleppo. There’s one photo from the citadel, another from the Great Mosque, and a third from the National Museum.

They once lived in this house as a family. I hope to one day thank them for unknowingly giving me and the others shelter here.

Arriving at the bottom floor, I walk to the shop’s broken window and stare outside at the brightening heavens. I’m not afraid to go by windows anymore. There are only a handful of clouds visible. Gazing at the streaks of white and yellow light breaking through the sky’s darkness, I can’t help but stare at their beauty. I haven’t really seen the sky this clearly since this entire ordeal began. This sunrise appears different. More… aesthetic. I don’t know why. I’ve seen countless sunrises before, but this one puts them all to shame.

I soak it all in with a deep breath. I finally feel as calm as I did when praying yesterday afternoon. I don’t truly know what is out there; however, I know what hope I am holding dear to.

Feeling a presence, I turn around. Ethan stands a few feet behind me. I didn’t even hear him arrive. Our eyes lock for a brief moment before he breaks the silence. “You’re heading out?”

“Continuing north.”

Ethan slightly nods. “Deciding to continue your friends’ journey?”

“No. I’m going to find them.”

One of his eyebrows rises a bit. “Find them?”

“They’re still alive. I know it. If I survived the blast, then I know they did too. I believe that. I believe that with every fiber of my being. I believe that I’ll find them and my family. One way or another, we’ll all be together again. I promised to look after them, to protect them.” Jari’s and Nabeel’s words repeat in my head. “And I never go back on my word.”

“How do you know that they’re still alive?”

Salman’s statement—one of the last ones he said to me—echoes in my head, and I repeat it with a smile. “Because I have faith.”

After a long moment, Ethan displays a small smirk. Taking a step towards me, he puts his hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “If circumstances were different, I would have followed you, Zaid.”

“I know. I hope that your sister is safe. I know that you will find her, God-willing. Thank you, Ethan, for everything.”

He nods in appreciation. “I once heard that it’s during the darkest hours when the courage of humanity burns brightest. Being here in this city, I understand that more than I ever have before.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“My grandfather, David, always used to say that. I see that in you now.” Ethan glances outside. “It’s daytime now. Are you sure it’s safe to travel out in the light?”

I take a deep breath. “I’ve been hiding in the shadows for far too long. It’s about time I remember what bathing in my city’s sun feels like.”

“When I found you yesterday, you were a scared boy, Zaid. Now… you’re something else. Never forget the hope you feel right now, and let it guide you.” Ethan takes a small step back. His smile grows. “Aleppo is a spirit, not a place. And now you have it in you. You’ve become the heart of the city—the heart of Aleppo.”