Bashar al-Assad fell; Then a woman learned about her husband’s past

It was in early December when Douna Haj Ahmed, a Syrian refugee, discovered the disturbing details of her husband’s detention in the notorious Al-Khatib prison, known as “hell on earth“.

He was watching on the news from his home in London as bewildered prisoners fleeing the country’s brutal security apparatus after rebel forces ousted Bashar al-Assad as president.

Through tears, Abdullah Al Nofal, her husband of eight years, sat next to her, turned and said: “This is where they arrested me, this is the place.”

Douna, whose brothers were also arrested during Syria’s 13-year civil war, says she had an idea of ​​what her husband experienced during his detention, but this was the first time she shared full details of what he endured.

“Abdullah doesn’t like to share things emotionally, he likes to look like a strong guy all the time,” Douna, 33, tells the BBC.

“It was a turning point. I saw him weak. I saw him cry. I saw him say, ‘This is where I was. I could be one of them. I could be one of them right now, or I could be dead.’ ‘.

“I think when he saw this, he felt like it was closure,” he adds. “Now we want people to hear what the Syrians went through.”

Abdullah, 36, was working in Damascus as a shopkeeper for the International Committee of the Red Cross in July 2013 when he and his colleagues were randomly stopped at a checkpoint on the outskirts of the Syrian capital.

He says he participated in anti-regime protests in 2011 in the southern city of Deraa, where the anti-Assad uprising began, but soon distanced himself when rebels began using violence and weapons in response to a brutal crackdown by regime forces. .

Abdullah was flagged down at the checkpoint, put on a green bus, handcuffed and blindfolded, and taken to a military zone. He says he was then held in solitary confinement for three days and beaten.

“I remember it was very dark for three days,” he says.

“I don’t (hear) any sound. It was very dark. You don’t hear anything. You feel very alone.”

Abdullah was then transported to Al-Khatib, a detention center in Damascus, and taken to a cell with about 130 people.

Al-Khatib was one of several detention centers operated by the Syrian intelligence services.

Nearly 60,000 people were tortured and killed in prisons run by the Assad regime during the civil war, according to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights, a UK-based monitoring group.

Two years ago, a landmark trial in Germany found a Syrian colonel who worked in Al-Khatib guilty of crimes against humanity. Anwar Raslan, 58, was linked to the torture of more than 4,000 people in prison.

In court, witnesses described what the detainees were like. raped and hung from the ceiling for hours, as well as the use of electric shocks before being submerged in water. Assad’s authoritarian government previously denied allegations of torture.

During his detention in 2013, Abdullah describes how he regularly listened to Screams of people being tortured.

He remembers that disease was rife and that about 20 people died while he was detained there.

“When I started looking everywhere, there were people standing almost naked,” he tells the BBC. “They were full of blood, as if they had been tortured.

“If they don’t torture you, every minute they will bring someone to the investigation.

“They will come back to the room full of blood…every time you touch someone they will scream because you touched their wound.”

After 12 days, Abdullah was taken for interrogation, where he claims he was repeatedly beaten with a metal weapon and accused of transporting weapons.

He explains that he could not deny the accusations made against him, as this would lead to a prolonged punishment.

“As long as you say, ‘I didn’t do it,’ they will continue to torture you and take you to another stage of torture,” he says.

“Every minute it’s like you’re dying.”

Abdullah says he told officers a false story to avoid further questioning and was “lucky” to be released after a month.

A year later, he left Syria and subsequently obtained scholarships in Geneva and the United States. He is now settled in London with his wife.

Only now does Abdullah feel able to share the full horror of his experiences with his wife, as the risk and fear he faced are slowly disappearing.

“We finally ended the regime, we can say that now we are truly free,” he says.

“You can use our name. You can use our face. We can tell the whole story.”

Douna, a human rights activist, sobbed upon hearing her husband’s experiences for the first time.

“I listened to it and cried. Every time I feel that this regime (has reached) the maximum of horrors, of horrible stories,” he says.

“I’m surprised no, this isn’t the maximum. There could be more.”

And he adds: “We have the privilege of being able to tell our stories. Many people died without being heard.”