When the Assad regime was forced from the northeastern city of Raqqa in the summer of 2013, Souad Nofal was elated. A schoolteacher in the town, she belonged to a revolutionary group that used non-violent tactics to instigate civil unrest. \u2018We rushed into the street, crying and singing,\u2019 she remembers. \u2018I wanted to live as they do in the countries we see on the\u00a0<\/span>TV<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u2013 for a person to say whatever they want and not be\u00a0afraid.\u2019<\/p>\n The elation was short lived. The Islamist group that had just started to call itself\u00a0<\/span>ISIS<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>quickly became a major presence in the city. Many of Raqqa\u2019s revolutionaries left, and those that remained were intimidated into silence. But as Nofal saw the revolution\u2019s promise betrayed, she decided to confront the\u00a0Islamists.<\/p>\n \u2018ISIS put a gun to my head, but I laughed at them\u2019<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Every day for more than two months she stood alone outside\u00a0<\/span>ISIS<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>headquarters in Raqqa carrying a hand-drawn placard. Each criticized a different aspect of the group\u2019s ideology or behaviour. \u2018Don\u2019t talk so much about your religion,\u2019 said one, \u2018show us your religion through decency, compassion, and good deeds.\u2019 Another read \u2018Our revolution was started by honourable people, and is being stolen by thieves.\u2019 The simplest message of all was \u2018ISIS =\u00a0Assad\u2019.<\/p>\n It was an astonishingly brave thing to do. \u2018They put AK47s to my head, but I laughed at them\u2019, says Nofal. \u2018I could feel their fear, fear of the words I wrote on my\u00a0posters.\u2019<\/p>\n In early October 2013, Nofal used her placard to condemn the burning of two Christian churches in Raqqa.\u00a0<\/span>ISIS<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>militants ripped the paper to shreds and fired shots at Nofal and her sister as they ran down the street. Days later, Nofal escaped across the border into Turkey. She is now a refugee in Holland.\u00a0n<\/p>\n In 2013, a young media activist saw a car drive through the streets of Raqqa with the words \u2018Islamic State of Iraq\u2019 painted on the side. Abu Mohammed knew nothing about the men inside, but he remembers the fear. \u2018I said to myself, \u201cMay God protect us from those\u00a0people\u201d.\u2019<\/p>\n By 2014 those fighters, now calling themselves\u00a0<\/span>ISIS<\/span><\/span>, had taken over Raqqa, and Abu Mohammed began to see public executions in the streets. In April that year, together with five other friends, he started a website to document and expose the brutality of the jihadists now lording it over his hometown. About a month after the launch, ISIS captured and killed one of the project\u2019s six\u00a0founders.<\/p>\n The site \u2013 Raqqa is Being Slaughtered Silently \u2013 now has 25 contributors and has become a key source of information for journalists and analysts all over the world. The people who run it are all between 20 and 30 years old. Four are women. Most live with their parents, who know nothing about their children\u2019s activism. They meet only online and hide their identities even from each other, to prevent the possibility that any one of them, if tortured by\u00a0<\/span>ISIS<\/span>, might reveal the names of the\u00a0others.<\/p>\n \u2018I grew a beard, and I try to wear their style of clothes\u2019<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n Outwardly, Abu Mohammed has adopted the attitudes of Raqqa\u2019s new rulers. \u2018I did change my look \u2013 I grew a beard, and I try to wear their style of clothes.\u2019 But from the anonymity of his laptop, he continues to fight for the ideas that inspired him to revolt against Assad in 2011: \u2018I wanted to see Syria as a civil state\u2026 as a democratic country where people live under the rule of\u00a0law.\u2019<\/p>\n As well as being a rejection of all that\u00a0<\/span>ISIS<\/span><\/span>\u00a0<\/span>stands for, the website stands as a reminder of those values. \u2018There is a civil side to this country,\u2019 he says. \u2018Syrians demonstrated for freedom and dignity, not for ISIS or the regime.\u2019\u00a0n<\/p>\n In April 2015, Islamist militants poured petrol onto a brightly painted piano and set the instrument on\u00a0fire.<\/p>\n The piano belonged to Ayham Ahmed, a 28-year-old musician born in Yarmouk, a densely populated neighbourhood of southern Damascus that had grown out of a Palestinian refugee camp set up in the\u00a01950s.<\/p>\n For the past three years, Yarmouk has been under siege. Between August and December 2013, nothing got in or out. On top of those killed by shells or snipers, more than 100 people died of starvation and\u00a0disease.<\/p>\n At the beginning of the siege, Ahmed decided \u2018to play my piano in the streets and alleyways of the camp that I love.\u2019 He built a wheeled platform to help move the battered instrument around Yarmouk, playing songs for children traumatized by fighting. \u2018I sing the different colours of suffering of the people in the camp,\u2019 he says. \u2018And I teach music to kids, because it is the only thing that can change their state of\u00a0mind.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018I am going to sing for love and peace, even if no one helps us\u2019<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Ayham began playing at the age of six, and went on to study with a series of distinguished Syrian and Russian teachers at the Arab Institute of Music in Damascus. His first love is Russian composer\u00a0Rachmaninov.<\/p>\n Since the Islamists took control of the camp in April, Ayham\u2019s efforts to alleviate the agony of Yarmouk have placed his own life in danger. \u2018Music is among the things that are prohibited by the hardline Islamists,\u2019 he says. Ayham now has two children of his own, Ahmed and Kenan, both born under siege. He is desperate to bring them to\u00a0safety.<\/p>\n \u2018I am sad that my piano has been burned,\u2019 he says, \u2018but I am more sad about the lack of help from a limp world that is looking at our suffering without lifting a finger to ease the pain\u2026 Still, I am going to sing for love and peace, even if no one helps\u00a0us.\u2019<\/p>\n Majed\u2019s first child was born in the spring of 2013, towards the end of what he now calls the golden days of the revolution. The regime had been pushed from Eastern Ghouta in November the previous year, and people were convinced that Syria was close to freedom. \u2018We were excited, and wanted to build our country,\u2019 he remembers. \u2018We began to form our own local councils, our own hospitals, our own bakeries and\u00a0schools.\u2019<\/p>\n The regime, though, had other plans. The region\u2019s water and electricity were cut off. No food was allowed in. Day after day, the Syrian army launched air strikes against a civilian population. \u2018The regime,\u2019 says Majed, \u2018was targeting the\u00a0hospitals.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018We\u2019re used to dealing with blood, but there was no blood. They were just sleeping\u2019<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Before the war he had been a dentist. Now, he was working as a volunteer medic and using his contacts to keep Ghouta\u2019s field hospitals supplied. The medical teams were well organized \u2013 but nothing could have prepared them for what was\u00a0coming.<\/p>\n On 21 August 2013, a densely populated neighbour\u00adhood was hit with rockets containing the chemical agent sarin. Majed was at his hospital when the bodies started to come in. \u2018Kids and women arrived in their sleeping clothes. We could not believe they were dead. We\u2019re used to dealing with blood, but there was no blood. They were sleeping.\u2019 It was the worst chemical attack since the Iran-Iraq war. Majed estimates that more than 1,000 people were killed that\u00a0night.<\/p>\n In March 2014, Majed\u2019s wife and son left for Turkey. \u2018Just one week after they left, my own house was targeted and my son\u2019s bed was destroyed.\u2019 A month later, Majed joined his family as a refugee. \u2018I didn\u2019t want to leave. I want to help my people, my neighbours, my country. But I have a family too, and I want them to live.\u2019\u00a0n<\/p>\n Interviews by Daniel Adamson.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n source : thefifthcolumnnews.com<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Souad Nofal: The teacher who stood up to ISIS When the Assad regime was forced from the northeastern city of Raqqa in the summer of 2013, Souad Nofal was elated.<\/p>\nAbu Mohammed*: Raqqa is Being Slaughtered Silently<\/h2>\n
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Ayham Ahmed: The piano man of Yarmouk<\/h2>\n
Dr Majed Abu Ali: The doctor who treated victims of a chemical attack<\/h2>\n