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

With each word I utter, I feel myself losing strength. The numb coldness is at my torso. They see it too. It’s reflected in their eyes.

You were right, father, you were right. It’s as you told me. I didn’t listen to the voice of fear. Not today. Instead, I listened to my heart, my dream—I did what it told me was right, and maybe it will keep the flame of hope burning in all this darkness…

“Carry it with you… carry the bravery, carry the heart of the city.” My gaze slowly drifts between them. “Look after each other. Remember the courage that’s allowed us to get this far. Jari… the boy in the street… carry the same courage for our people.”

“I will.” Salman’s tears grow worse. He clasps my hand between both of his. “I promise.”

My eyes lock with Fatima’s beautiful green eyes one more time. All the dreams I once wished for… all the prayers I made for a future I once hoped for will never come to pass. But perhaps something better may. Perhaps one day something will…

In Fatima’s eyes, I can see the same dreams. All this time we shared them, but I never truly realized it. I kept her safe. I saved Fatima and Salman. I swore to change the world one day… Nabeel believed I would do something great… and maybe I have.

“I will see you, Zaid,” she softly says. “Soon… I—I know it. And we will have the life you always dreamed of.”

The coldness is at my neck now, but I’m not afraid. I faced death… and I didn’t blink.

Fatima leans forward, touching her forehead against mine. Her trembling is stronger now. Salman’s voice is in my ear. He’s uttering something—a prayer, the same one he spoke over Jari.

I couldn’t save Jari… but I saved them. I saved my friends.

In this moment, in this final moment, I finally understand. I truly realize why Jari gave his life for ours. I know why that boy in the street rescued us from the soldiers. I know why Ethan carried me unconscious on his back when death was closing in on all sides. I understand what the gleam in their eyes was.

It was the fire of hope. It was selflessness. It was bravery in their darkest hour. It was knowing that the world is much bigger than them and having the courage to look out for their fellow humans.

So this… is what it feels like… this is what they felt like…

There’s somebody standing tall behind my friends. My eyes come onto the figure, while Salman and Fatima dearly hold onto me.

Nabeel… he’s here.

Can it be? My brother is finally here after all this time? Nabeel is smiling down on me. He’s wearing his military uniform. Can’t they see him too? Can’t they sense him?

He reaches down, taking my hand. His grip is as strong as ever. No, it’s stronger . With just one heave, he effortlessly pulls me upright. My legs are now working and the debris doesn’t hold me down. How is this possible?

Nabeel wraps his arm around me, preventing me from looking back. But even if I could, I wouldn’t. I can’t take my gaze off of him. It’s really him. It’s really my brother.

His smile is as gentle as ever. So are his eyes. It’s the look that made me admire him all my life. Without a word, he begins to lead me away from all this. I don’t hear the explosions. I don’t hear the bombs raining down on the city. I don’t even sense my friends anymore.

There’s just Nabeel.

“You did good, kid. You did good.” His words are the way I’ve always wanted to hear them: proud. Walking alongside me, he keeps his arm around my shoulder.

I don’t utter a word, leaning my head against his powerful frame. There is no more fear. No more pain. No more anguish. There is just peace.

His embrace is warm. Walking side-by-side, he leads me away from everything. “Zaid, what do you say we spend some time alone for a while? Just like you always wanted.”

My smile is greater than any I’ve ever worn. “Are you taking me to the park?”

“No, a garden. And I think you’ll really enjoy this one.”

It’s peace. Complete peace. Together, Nabeel and I walk away from the destruction, away from the war and suffering, and step into the light.

January 23, 2013

To My Friend, Zaid:

Zaid Kadir never knew it, but he was always a hero, a believer. He gave his life not for gain, but for an ideal. He did it so that Fatima and I would live the life that he never could, a life that clung to the hope of one day being free from this war.

Now sitting far from Aleppo—far from Syria—as I write these words, I know that Zaid did not perish. None truly ever do. I will see Zaid one day. I will see the boy who thought he’d lost everything but became the candle of hope in the darkness. Everything he believed came true. Fatima and I found our family… and Zaid was reunited with his.

But in his sacrifice, he will live on. Zaid became what Jari said. He became the light of courage, the heart of Aleppo.

Zaid became the motto that Jari lived by. 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.

What did Zaid feel in those final moments? I don’t know for sure. Nobody does. However, I believe he may have at last found some small measure of peace, that we all seek, but few of us ever find.