This season follows the lives of those who have sought asylum for their sexuality or gender identity.

This episode follows Kazi, a young man from Dhaka, Bangladesh who left home to study dentistry in London, but found a new life as an LGBTQIA+ activist in the UK.

Made with the support of the Say it Loud Club, an organisation providing support and advocacy for LGBTQA+ refugees and asylum seekers in the UK. You can set up a one-off or monthly donation via their website.

Storytelling: Jamie Holton

Writing: Jamie Holton & Jessica Stone

Production: Jessica Stone

TRanscript

Kazi: People call me Kazi. I lived in Dhaka, the capital city of Bangladesh, and I’m from a very religious strict family. 

Should I tell you my story?

Jamie: Sure. 

Kazi: So, it is a long story actually. 

Jessica: Welcome to the second episode of season two of refugees’ stories. This season focuses on the lives of people who have had to leave their homes because of their sexuality or gender identity. Today we're listening to Kazi, from Bangladesh. Kazi was interviewed by our London-based member, Jamie Holton. You’ll hear her voice throughout the episode.

Kazi: So when I was in third year in my dentistry course, I had a very good partner, I called him Almas. One day, I went to the college library with him to find some journal for my course study, and I found that there’s an English journal, and there is a chapter regarding the homosexuality. I can’t remember the name of the journal, but yes, that was an English journal. 

And for the very first time, I read everything. I read that homosexuality is very normal all across the world. Then I said these things to my partner. 

And I say to him first time, that okay, the thing is, I’m feeling this kind of thing for you. I had trust on him, that’s why I said to him that I had feelings. 

He didn’t say anything at the time, but later he told me that yes, he’s in like love with me, that kind of relationship. So I said okay, now so that we can be couple. We’re reading partner, like within 24 hours, 18 hours we are talking to each other, on the phone, physically, so yeah, we can be couple. So, he said okay. 

When I said to my parents, to my dad basically, for the first time, that maybe this relationship is more than a best friend relationship, then he said to me okay, listen, you should be best friend. Not more than that. More than any kind of thing is prohibited in the society. 

And what happened after becoming a couple, study was like gone. So my dad said that, look, that’s why I told you not to do anything else apart from your study, it has to be like a group partner relationship, nothing more than that. See, you failed already. And he told it to my mom. 

The problem is he went to his village, to his dad, I think. And after that, I don’t know what happened. 

Maybe he was beaten by his dad, or I don’t know. I called him so many times. Later I found that one of my friends told me, he left the country. Still I don’t know where he is. 

The thing is, as I’m a homosexual man, I’m a gay man, the problem is this type of thing is still a taboo in my country. And homosexuality is prohibited, still, right now. 

Jamie: You might remember from the last episode that homosexuality in Bangladesh is illegal under section 377, which criminalises same-sex conduct. This law is rarely implemented, and is a remnant of British colonial law dating back over 150 years, but the government has now twice rejected recommendations from the UN Human Rights Council to repeal the law. Furthermore, there have been several high-profile murders of people for their sexuality in recent years, some of which have even targeted LGBTQIA+ activists. This is what Kazi is refering to when he says that homosexuality is prohibited. 

Kazi: So basically, after finishing my dentistry course from my country. I was feeling so lonely, and I was like, in a depression.  

So, on that time I tried first time in the United Kingdom, for the very first time I got the visa. After being in this country I became open, and then I realised that it is really a big problem. A threat to my life, I can’t go back to my country. Because right now I’m working as an activist in the social medias. 

My name, my face, everything, my sexuality is open right now, so my parents, all the social community people they know about me. I can’t hide myself. Already they threatened me that I can’t go back to my country. If I will go back, they’re gonna kill me. 

The thing is, when I got the visa first time for United Kingdom. Then I need also money to come here, because I was a new dentist. 

So, I told my dad that I needed money. But there is one condition, and if I fulfil that condition, he will give me the money and also he will give me the permission to come to London. And I said, what is it? And he said I need to marry a girl. 

I said immediately that I’m not prepared for this kind of wedding ceremony right now. Let me come here and I’ll think about it. 

I had to say yes, because I had no money. 

Jamie: Kazi was forced into a marriage. A forced marriage is where one or both people do not consent to the marriage and pressure or abuse is used. Unfortunately, there are members from the LGBTQIA+ community all around the world who are pressured by their conservative family to marry someone from the opposite sex to protect their family’s honour. An article by the BBC explains that even in the UK, many gay or lesbian people from South Asian descent are pressured by their families to enter a heterosexual marriage. The pressure put on people to marry against their will can be physical, emotional and psychological.

Kazi: I did marry an unknown girl basically. I remember the – 14th of October. And I came to London at 23rd of October. 

In these like five-six days I had no physical relationship with that lady. I talked to her by phone. Then I came back to London. 

And after that, I tried to avoid any phone calls from that lady. Because I can’t. I can’t maintain the relationship. I did all these things to come to London. And yes, I felt guilty, but what can I do? They always pressurize me why I’m not maintaining proper husband relationship with my wife.

And then my mom and dad said to me that, okay, now’s the time. You are in London, your wife has to be in London. And you have a visa, you can take your dependent with you, so why don’t you try that? I thought that she’ll never gonna get the visa. But she got the visa. She got the visa and she came here for the first time as well. It was hard for us to experience as well in London.

Day by day she understood that I’m not in a proper relationship with her. Of course, she tried me to have a good physical relationship, but I couldn’t maintain properly. I was not into it. 

So one day, I said to her about my sexuality, and the very first question asked, ‘why did I marry her?’ She was of course too angry with me, because she didn’t want to go back to our country. She wanted a good life, a secure life with me in London, or in abroad, anywhere. But I was unable to do that.

In the meantime, what happened, I found so many clubs with some of my friends. Normal clubs and gay clubs as well. And I was into relationship with a dancer, he is not my current boyfriend, my ex-boyfriend. He showed me so many things. Basically, he was my teacher, like that kind of thing.

Jamie: Soon, Kazi became a part of different LGBTQIA+ communities in London, and an activist. He started to share his life story and connect with others, both in-person and online.

Kazi: I joined first time Pride 2017 with my boyfriend, my ex-boyfriend. I thought that, okay, there are so many people, that it’s a big community. There’s nothing there to hide. So at that time, I found the chairman of Say it Loud Club and he gave me a visiting card so you can come. And now I am, you can say that now I am working unofficially as a photographer. I am an official archive man, because I always take the photos from Say it Loud Club. 

I am working as an activist as well, for Say it Loud Club. For me, I have Hopeless Angel, I call it Hopeless Angel, I have my separate Facebook page, which is a public page and I have like, more than 21,000 followers over there. 

So I found in my inbox, people are like asking me how to come to London, how to come to America, something like that, they always ask me help. But I tell them, express yourself because I can’t come to Bangladesh, but you are in Bangladesh, if you think that you are safe, okay, express yourself. You can’t hide yourself. You can’t live like this. But they say we are in a jail. The whole country is like a jail for them. So what to do?

Jamie: Even though Kazi felt accepted in the UK, his problems were far from over. Kazi would soon risk overstaying his student visa. Without a visa to stay in the UK, he could face deportation to Bangladesh, which for him, as an openly gay activist, could put his life in danger. 

Kazi: I got an email from the Home Office that my visa has to be curtailed. And my visa has to be curtailed, so I lost my job as well. And I had like, half of my money, my father already paid to my college. Half of my money still remaining. But as my visa curtailed, I did not have to fulfil half of the money to the college. 

So the relation between my college and me- gone. It’s gone. I am no more a student.  I said everything to my wife and my wife can’t handle this. So she said that we can’t live in a same place. So I separated from her. I separated from her. I found a different accommodation by the help of Sohel [name to be censored from the audio]. 

So my wife chapter closed. I’m illegal in London. I have no job, and I can’t get any job, because I’m illegal in London. I have no visa, I’m an overstayer. 

So what to do? In the meantime, I went to so many solicitor firms. And they told me like, okay, there is one option. You can do asylum. But regarding what? What kind of asylum? What is my subject? What to do? I had no idea. 

They said to me, okay come to us, pay our fees first, open a file, to our firm and then we can tell you what kind of asylum or what can you do. On that time, I was thinking, okay I think asylum does mean by political asylum or something like that. But I’m not a political person. Honestly, I’m not a political person. So I had no idea about that. 

Jamie: This was when Kazi started to think about seeking asylum on the basis of his sexuality. Immigration lawyer Gary McIndoe explains that it is extremely difficult to obtain protection through the asylum process, and for LGBTQIA+ people applying on the basis of their sexual or gender status, the journey can be extremely traumatic, invasive and long-winded, with no guarantee of success.

The asylum seeking process puts the burden on Kazi to prove to the UK government that he is gay, but there is a risk that the government simply doesn’t believe him. Kazi also has to prove that being gay would probably cause him serious harm back in Bangladesh, and that his government would not protect him. In order to do this, Kazi would have to go through multiple rounds of long, and nerve-wracking interviews, in a language that wasn’t his own, and where the outcome would literally mean life or death.

Kazi: Then I started my first application in 27th of March 2017. And we had a very very short interview like why I am here, why do I want to claim an asylum, on the basis of what? 

After that what happened, maybe 3rd of August, 2017 they called me for a main interview, a long interview in Leeds. So what happened, I became sick, because I was very nervous. 

I could not go to Leeds on the 3rd of August because I have a very chest pain, just because of-  I think it happened because of mental, what can you say, nervousness? [stress]? Mental stress. yeah. 

In the morning or in the evening time I think, I feel so bad. I feel so bad I called my current boyfriend and he was there, and he called the  ambulance.

Then Home office sent me a letter again that okay you can come 21st of August. 

It was my first time with Home Office. And it was so cold. I had a problem of asthma, but okay, anyways I had to finish the interview. Okay, and I say exactly what I’m telling now to you. But maybe my presentation was not good. Maybe I felt nervous so I was not prepared. 

They always asked me that, should I want to continue? I had no idea, should I say yes or no? But I said yes. I said yes. 

They have to ask you questions in several ways. And you have to answer properly, you have to express yourself properly. If you can’t express yourself properly, your fate will be like me. 

The Home Office refused me. They said everytime that Mr. Kazi, he completely failed to express himself about his sexuality. 

Jamie: Kazi’s case is now going to court. 

Kazi: Maybe I’ll be succeed this time, to express my feelings properly. I am wishing, because my court is coming after four months. So I’m wishing that I’m gonna win the case. Number one. 

Jamie: Kazi’s case has already been delayed a couple of times, and is now on hold indefinitely until the pandemic passes. While this uncertainty can cause anxiety and feelings of depression, Kazi tries to stay hopeful by supporting others through the same process.

Kazi: That’s my job, I try to motivate people to not like hide yourself, okay, if you want to claim an asylum, it is completely free, there is some process, you have to go through some process, it is very easy peasy, Home Office people they are not your enemies. They’re doing their duties. 

And there are so many asylum seekers calling me, they’re telling that oh Kazi, I won my case. I finally success to prove my sexuality to the court. Most of them are winning their case from the court by the way. Because I don’t know why, maybe they can’t express themselves to Home Office. That’s why they have to go through the fast tribunal. 

But anyways, the good thing is the refugees have a very fantastic future in the United Kingdom. We can, as a refugee status, we can work for BBC, we can work for CNN. We can work for any other normal organisations here. We can be self-motivated. We can go for Say it Loud Club organisations, we can work for this kind of organisations. 

So maybe I’ll go for a licensed course after becoming a refugee over here. Maybe government will give us an opportunity to help people in London, as a refugee status. I think we will get a five years visa from the court if we win the case. And yes, within these five years I have to be a proper citizen of London.

And yeah, I want to be a good mentor. And as a good dentist in London as well, if I will get the chance. 

Jessica: That was the second episode of season two of Refugee’s Stories Podcast. You’ve been listening to Kazi from Bangladesh, interviewed by the talented Jamie Holton, a member of the Refugees’ Stories Podcast team. 

This episode was made in association with the Say it Loud Club, one of the very few organisations working in the UK to support those who have been displaced because of their sexuality or gender identity. The Say it Loud Club is an incredible NGO that provides valuable community support, ranging from social events to workshops and legal aid, functioning as a lifeline for people during what can be the extremely long waiting period after seeking asylum. I strongly recommend donating and supporting their excellent work. The best way to do this is by setting up a regular monthly donation, which I’ve done myself by following the link through their website, www.sayitloudclub.org. Of course, all statements in this podcast are my own, and not to be attributed to the Say it Loud Club. 

If you would like to stay up to date with Kazi’s activism, you can like his Facebook page, Hopeless Angel. You can find the hyperlink in the transcript for this episode on RefugeesStoriesPodcast.org. Both Kazi’s Facebook page and the Say it Loud Club are great resources for anybody who is interested in learning more about this subject. 

For music, thanks go to Dan Bodan, Josh Lippi & the Overtimers, pATCHES, and Windows of Ken. The outro music is Shada Kalo by Fuad Almuqtadir, Upol and Maher—a special request from Kazi.

Thank you also to Kazi, for trusting us with his story. I can only hope that these stories go out into the world and help others to understand Kazi’s experiences, and those of others like him. 

And finally, my name is Jessica Stone, I’m the producer of this podcast. Thank you for listening to Kazi’s story.

Nadim was forced to leave Bangladesh for his own safety, but he has created a new life in the UK.

Abu Mustafa has lost a lot in the war, but still holds onto the hope of seeing his daughter again.

Andreas explains the difficulties that Syrian men face finding decent work in the Beqaa Valley, and why it's important to support livelihood skills for refugees.

Afaf loves her husband and children, but looking after her family is tough without having a proper house or the economic resources that she'd like. In this episode, Afaf talks about the tradition of girls marrying young in Syria, and how marrying young impacted her life.

Salem is a friendly and generous man who loves to look after all of the children in the settlement, not just his own. In this episode, we learn about what compels him to do this, his experiences in the military and his love of organic gardening.

In this episode, we learn about the dangerous journey two young boys took to be reunited with Jawahei, who is now their fulltime carer. Jawahei herself describes life in Idlib, and why she had to leave despite deciding at the beginning of the war that she wouldn't. 

The third episode features Mohammad and Amira, a long-married couple from Homs. 

Made with the support of Salam LADC, an NGO working in the Beqaa Valley with Mohammad and Amira's community and others like it. You can donate to Salam LADC here.

This episode was sponsored by Hindenburg audio suite. If you’re interested in getting into podcasting or audio storytelling yourself, try their free 30-day trial.

Music credits:

Axletree

 ALPHAMALE

Banda Comunale & Internationale

Amr Ezz

Jahzzar

Monplaisir

The Orchestra of Syrian Musicians

Translator: Hassan Choubassi

Assistant: Guillem Jimenez Vilá

Further thanks to Miguel Ángel Isotta Sanchez.

Writing and production: Jessica Stone.

Our second episode follows the life of Abdullah, a father of nine currently living in the Beqaa Valley. 

Made with the support of Salam LADC, an NGO working in the Beqaa Valley with Khansaa's community and other like it. You can donate to Salam LADC here.

This episode was sponsored by Hindenburg audio suite. If you’re interested in getting into podcasting or audio storytelling yourself, try their free 30-day trial.

Music credits in order:

Creeping Glass by Axletree

Amor é odio by Nuno Adelaida

teeth wrapped in tissue by ALPHAMALE

Ya Rayah by Banda Comunale & Internationale

F. Meridian by Nuno Adelaida

Farewell by Amr Ezz

Ya Souria Zalane Malak by Youssef Tage

teeth wrapped in tissue by ALPHAMALE

Intro by The Orchestra of Syrian Musicians

Lost Memories by Rocco Granata

Translators: Hassan Choubassi & Wael Yassin

Assistant: Justine Boillat

Further thanks to Miguel Ángel Isotta Sanchez and Piers Scholfield.

Writing and production: Jessica Stone.

Refugees’ Stories Podcast is designed to be heard, not read. The audio is far more expressive and interesting to listen to, we promise!

The text under Abdullah’s name is from a different translator, and in the audio these sections are spoken in Arabic. The following transcription contains errors, and may not represent the final release accurately. 

Jessica Stone: Welcome to the second episode of Refugee's Stories. I'm your host, Jessica Stone Stone, and today we're hearing from Abdullah. 

Abdullah: I’m Abdullah from Syria. I’m from Deir Al-Zhour city. I’m a truck driver and livestock trader

Jessica Stone: And one quick note here: I apologise for the quality of the audio. It’s hard to record in a tent in the middle of a refugee settlement with limited equipment, and it’s even harder to keep nine children quiet for an hour. 

Hassan Choubassi: Okay he say he is from Syria from Deir al-Zhour city. He was a big farmer of cows and animals. And he also have a big truck to unload the animals and sell it around Syria. He said that he was proud of her work, he love her work, he was very much her work.

Jessica Stone: Did you hear the word Daesh at the end there? That’s the acronym in Arabic, which stands for the “Islamic State in Iraq and Syria”. Which of course, we anglophones typically call ISIS, or ISIL, or Islamic State. 

Abdullah left Syria after he was caught smoking in his car. His punishment was forty lashes. And those 40 lashes were a big influence in him leaving Syria, with his whole family, nine kids, two of which are blind, and making the slow journey to Lebanon. 

It’s hard to find specific evidence that smoking would be punished with 40 lashes by IS. We do know, however, that drinking is punishable by eighty lashes, because it’s one of the crimes specifically defined in the Quran, and therefore codified in the legal system. So forty for smoking seems probable.

Hassan Choubassi: He say that yes, he miss her job a lot. And he hope to come back to Syria just to do this work again. And he say that he hope if he stay in refugee in Lebanon to do this type of work in Lebanon.

Jessica Stone: I did this interview before the laws changed in Lebanon. Before, there was a pledge not to work rule, which I talked about a little bit in the first episode. This has since been changed, but there is so much general confusion in Lebanon about the employment rights of Syrians that many refugees still aren’t working, or working only in very low-paid jobs. 

Hassan Choubassi: Okay, his father, he say that his father has like now 75 years old and he still own this work. And the same with his mother, she is 65 yrs old and she still make this work. Now because of the war they have a small farmer, they do the milk and the cheese with the cows.

Jessica Stone: Why have your parents decided to stay in Syria but you’ve decided to come here?

Hassan Choubassi: Yes they’re still in Syria. And the area where they live now, around this area, the Syrian army, the different kind, they are fighting in Syria. And he say that his parents are old, and they prefer to die in Syria than die out of their country. He say that yes, it’s very dangerous, and very scary. Because they cannot move out, from Deir Al-Zhour. Because they cannot move out from the checkpoints.

Jessica Stone: Deir Al-Zhour city is located on the Euphrates River between Raqqa and Mosul — the two IS strongholds. Large-scale clashes in the region started on 10th of April 2014, when Islamic State began to attack the area, which at that point was mostly held by the rebel groups. Both Islamic State and Al-Nusra front were fighting against each other, as well as attacking the rebels. Within months, thousands of people had died, and more than 100,000 civilians had fled the province. Within three months, IS controlled between 95 and 98% of the Deir Al-Zhour province.  This is according to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights, a UK-based group that documents alleged human rights abuses in Syria. 

These days, Deir Al-Zhour is located deep inside this IS-held territory. And life under IS control is no fun at all, unsurprisingly. Before the siege, Deir al-Zhour had a population of about 300,000 people. The 100, 000 people still left in the city have been living surrounded by violence and without access to food or services. There is, of course, widespread malnutrition and starvation amongst the civilians left in the city. The UN’s World Food Programme, in conjunction with the Syrian government and the Syrian Arab Red Crescent, has been regularly airdropping food and aid to the areas trapped by IS and fighting. 

Hassan Choubassi: And for him, they decide to come to Lebanon, because he has a big family, about nine persons, with awife and children. And he was living in a side of Deir Al-Zhour, who ISIS say just bomb them. So they have travelling for four months, depending different areas in Syria, until they can arrive at Lebanese borders. Until they can arrive to Beqaa. It’s just to search for a safety place for the family. 

Jessica Stone: Abdullah has nine children, and two of them are blind.

Jessica Stone: If you don’t mind telling me about your trip from Syria to Lebanon. It’s quite unusual to spend four months travelling isn’t it?

Hassan Choubassi: He spent four months, between the different cities, because when he moved from acity to another, he just stayed fifteen to twenty days, until they plan where to go next.

Jessica Stone: And was this with the whole family?

Hassan Choubassi: Yes, with nine people.

Jessica Stone: And how did you come from Syria to Lebanon itself?

Hassan Choubassi: He say when he arrived he went to Anjar, he was with his family, with the Red Cross, who they helped with matters like this, like the shelter. Then he stayed in El Marj, with some family. Until he found the camp here. But here they had a lot of travelling, they went to different camps. He say that at the beginning he didn’t have any money to buy the materials to make the tent, or for the rent, so when he got her paper and registered to UNHCR, and they helped him with UNHCR card, now he has money, and he buy some wood and a plastic sheet and build her tent.

Jessica Stone: How long did it take to build?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that for building the tent, it take about one month, because he just buy a small quantity of food and plastic sheet in the beginning, because he didn’t have enough money to buy a lot. But after one month, when he got the pay from UNHCR, he built the rest. 

Jessica Stone: The thing is, he had a car in Syria, and he sold it to travel to Damascus. By the time he’d reached Lebanon, he was out of money, even to build a fairly basic shelter for his family. Abdullah’s shelter is similar to many I’ve seen here in Lebanon. It’s made of a wooden frame, with tarpaulin stretched over it. The issue with structures like these is that they straddle a difficult line: they’re simultaneously meant to be temporary, but are often lived in for many years. 

Justine Boillat: Can you describe your house now?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that in Deir Al Zhour he has a big land, where they build a big house. Her big house was nine rooms and each person has a private room. And he talk about the relation between the brother sisters and parents. It was like, it was not like a relationship between the family, but like friends. They are very lovely and they help each other. They work in the same farm. And he missed this life.

He say that before he was like with freedom, and he has anything and can do anything in the country and buy whatever he want. but now it’s a big difference, here there is no freedom for the refugees, that’s what he say. And he cannot move, he cannot do anything, he cannot find the work, it’s a big difference. 

Jessica Stone: What was it like in Syria?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that in 1978, he has four yrs old, so he described the area where he was living. It’s about 800 houses. He say that it’s not like we are neighbours or something, we are like one family. When our family decided to do some foods, it will be like a big event for the community. He also has her friends and neighbours. It was very calm area, and they love each other.

Jessica Stone: Is this typically Syrian do you think? The idea of a community acting as one family?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that all Syria was like this. He say that he is from one place and this guy from another place. But they do that also in the settlement, they are from different places but they think that all the Syrians are one family.

Jessica Stone: Do you think they still feel like one family, because they’re quite scattered at the moment?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that in the place where they live, all the people are Muslim, but just about 11 or 12 families was Christian, but we don’t care about their religion, we are just one family, we are human, religion is for god, not for people. So yeah, they are like one big family.

Jessica Stone: When Abdullah says that everybody was like one big family, I’m inclined to believe it. Yes, of course, as far as he’s concerned I’m culturally Christian, and he might have had that in mind when he made that comment, thinking that it would endear me to him, and perhaps anybody listening to this podcast. But there is also a lot of truth to the idea that Syria has always been incredibly diverse in terms of religion, and throughout a large portion of its history, these multiple religious groups have managed to coexist.

Of course, the situation is complex, but both Syria and Lebanon, and the many, many religious groups from this region, were all living together under the Ottoman Empire. At the end of WWI, when the Allies cut up the Ottoman Empire into the states of Palestine, Jordan, Iraq, Syria and Lebanon, France was the country that had control over the newly formed states: Syria and Lebanon. 

And it was actually the French who separated the country into its different ethnic and religious groups, by portioning out particular regions to specific religious minorities, regardless of whether or not they made up the majority in that region. For instance, in Greater Lebanon, the Christians were given authority over the region, despite only making up about 30% of the population. The French authorities also occasionally reshuffled these divisions, creating a lot of instability in the area, and increasing friction between the different groups. 

After a while under this French rule, Maronite Christians, Sunni and Shi’a Muslims, and Druze followers united in order to revolt against their new French overlords during the years 1925-1927. There was a general sense from some Syrians during that period that the French were trying to pit the different groups together. Enough of a sense that one rebel, Sultan Al-Atrash wrote the following in his manifesto on the 23rd August 1925: “the imperialists have stolen what is yours…raised barriers and divided your indivisible homeland. They have separated the nation into religious sects and states…To arms! Let us free our people from bondage!”. The revolt by Sultan Al-Atrash ultimately failed, but later self-styled leaders did succeed. What’s interesting about Sultan al-Atrash’s manifesto, is how clearly, even all that time ago, some Syrians were concerned with how the French had cut their land up into pieces, and how that fundamentally weakened the people. 

Unsurprisingly, with colonial interference like this, Syrians didn’t manage to form national unity at all, and were easily prey to a series of military coups after regaining independence in 1946. It began with Husni al-Zaim’s coup in March 1949, the first military coup in the Arab world, launched with American encouragement if not prompting. Four and a half months later Zaim was killed during a second coup, carried out by Colonel Sami al-Hinnawi. And then, there was a short-lived political union between Syria and Egypt, called the United Arab Republic. 

The Nasser vision of a single great Arab nation collapses overnight, as Syria revolts against his rule and declares itself an independent state. 

Which lasted from 1958 to 1961, when it was bro ken by, you guessed it, a military coup, on September 28, 1961. In fact, Syria managed the unenviable feat of 10 coups in the two decades post-independence from France. When Syria was finally finished with all of these military coups, they were rewarded with nearly fifty years of dictatorship under the the last two presidents, Hafez al-Assad and his son Bashar al-Assad. In short, Syria has had a really bad run of it politically for a very, very long time.  

Jessica Stone: What sorts of things are you hearing about Syria at the moment? Does it make you worried?

Hassan Choubassi: They can’t speak of these things on the phone, because they are scared the government hear if they talk about this situation. They didn’t speak about this on the phone. He don’t know about this situation now. Only they see on the tv.

Jessica Stone: Another quick note here: Abdullah has given an interview before. An important interview, with a high profile figure in international aid. And this interview went on television, and then Islamic State went to Abdullah’s father and asked him why his son was talking about Syria on television. Abdullah’s father denied everything, but it must have been scary, and now Abdullah is a little bit worried about the impact his opinions, freely expressed, might have on his family still in Syria. 

And according to Freedom House, an independent watchdog organisation dedicated to the expansion of freedom and democracy around the world, Syria ranks as the second worst country in the world for internet freedom. In areas like Raqqa and Deir Al-Zhour, Islamic State has issued strict regulations on internet access. Private internet access was limited in mid-2015 to public locations1 that can be policed by the extremists, often the Hisbah police,  a type of religious police designed to “promote virtue and prevent vice, to dry up sources of evil, prevent the manifestation of disobedience”. This means that internet is only availabel at selected internet cafes, of which there are only four in Deir al-Zhour city, and all four are under heavy surveillance.

Jessica Stone: From what you see on the tv, how is your life different now from how it was?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that whatever if I am a refugee here in Lebanon, because my life is still better than in Syria. The place where he live in where ISIS in Syria, her life here is better here than in Syria. It’s more safety, and it’s little bit more freedom.

Jessica Stone: You might have heard before that the Syrian civil war is the best covered war ever, in history. This is despite the lack of international news media. Since international news media is banned in Syria, the main sources of second-hand information and dis-information are private videos made on mobile phones and uploaded to YouTube. The sheer proliferation of these videos has also made it difficult to navigate between truth and propaganda—everybody from Islamic State to the rebels to regime supporters to undercover activists is using videos and other forms of social media to promote their cause. 

The sheer quantity of amateur videos is all the more striking in a country which had previously been able to hide its massacres a little too well. When Assad’s father, Hafez, crushed a 1982 uprising in the city of Hama, killing thousands of civilians, he was able to keep it almost completely hidden from the world. 

Audio excerpt of perpetrator in Hama Massacre: They told us, the people of Hama, they all of them, they are terrorist and criminal and we have to kill them all. We have to clean the city from him. Nobody have a weapon, we see people on the street protest. They have nothing. Kids women you know. And then we We start shooting people everywhere, We go house by house… I wouldn’t have forgot anything. Everything I have it, like when I spoke to you now, I have it front of my eyes. I remember everything. I remember all the blood in Hama. 

Jessica Stone: That was an excerpt from an interview with a perpetrator in the Hama massacre, conducted by Piers Scholfield. The original casualty estimate by Western media was 1000. To this day, the final death toll is not known, although it ranges between 20-40 000. It is widely regarded as the single bloodiest assault by an Arab ruler against his own people in modern times.

But these days, Syria refuses to say silent about the massacres that happen it’s own people. In 2014, The group Deir Al-Zhour is Being Slaughtered Silently, a local monitoring group that secretly maps and records the mass graves left by ISIS militants and pro-government forces, stated that the 3000 people who were then missing were buried in 36 mass graves in four villages in the region. Thirteen of these mass graves were left in the region controlled by the government, and the rest in regions controlled by IS. And these graves, much like those over twenty years before in Hama, were filled with men, women, children, the elderly. 

These days, even without international media, people are making sure that deaths are being counted, and reported. It’s just hard to tell if anybody is really listening.

Jessica Stone: So for you it was the right choice to bring your family here?

Hassan Choubassi: Honestly I hope that, but I wish that I come back to Syria. He say that he believe it will be a end for the Syrian war in Syria soon, and he will come back. 

Jessica Stone: Are you looking forward to showing your children Syria then? 

Hassan Choubassi: He say that only two of her children, don’t know how it was in Syria. Because they born since then. But only this little boy, he was five months when they left Syria, he was very small. Sometimes they just talk about Syria and their lives, but they’re very small they cannot understand the situation.

Jessica Stone: Do you mind telling us about one of the stories you tell your children?

Hassan Choubassi: He tell a story. He let them them know how was his work before with his dad. Sometimes he go with his dad, about two hours, to buy some cows for the farmer. The life in Syria was very easy and they have everything, and can work. During when he tell them these stories they are very interested to live this life.

Jessica Stone: We’re curious about your hopes for your children?

Hassan Choubassi: He said his first hope is for his sons and daughter to do the surgery, so they can be as normal people. He hope for his children to be educated. He say that right now I’m not educated, and I have a bad life, and education is important in life.

Jessica Stone: Are they in school at the moment? Or is he currently finding it challenging?

Hassan Choubassi: Only Ahmad and Rahma go to a church in Zahle, that’s specific for these cases. 

Jessica Stone: Ahmad and Rahma are the two blind children. They’re going to an Evangelical Church School. 

Hassan Choubassi: The rest of the children don’t want to go to the school. 

Jessica Stone: One son, Yassin, studied up until year nine in Syria, but didn’t continue in Lebanon. 

Hassan Choubassi:  Because the system here is very different to Syria, but it was very difficult and different for them.

Jessica Stone: This is true. I’ll have an education specific episode later on, but in a nutshell, school in Syria was held in Arabic. School in Lebanon is taught in French or English. This means that many Syrian students have an incredibly hard time in the Lebanese public school system. Because Syrian students have usually missed out on a few years of schooling, and have lower levels of English and French, they’re placed in classes with kids several years younger than they are. Which is obviously not great for self-esteem. There are also reports from Human Rights Watch that Syrian students “face bullying and harassment on the way to school and in the classroom from bystanders, other children, bus drivers, teachers, and school administrators”, even including physical attacks. 

Jessica Stone: Tell me about a time you were really happy.

Hassan Choubassi: He say that since that he born in Syria, until they decide to leave, all their life was full of happiness. A special moment was when his dad buy for him a new car, it was the most happiness moment for him.

Jessica Stone: What was the car?

Hassan Choubassi: It was a Nissan pickup. He went far away from her country, to buy it from Nissan. They pay 20,000 for this truck. 

Justine Boillat: What did you like to do with this truck, where did you like to go?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that there was a place, a river, that was 500m from his house, and he went with his pickup to this place. Swimming, and wash his pickup in the river. He was alone, and he stay for a long time there.

Jessica Stone: Then Abdullah pulled out his phone and showed me a photo of another car. 

Hassan Choubassi: He has this car in Syria. A Kia.

Jessica Stone: Who’s driving it now?

Hassan Choubassi: They put it in a garage in Syria, and they put on the car a lot of wood and things, because if ISIS sees this car they will come and take it.

Justine Boillat: What about his house is someone living in it now?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that he has two houses in Syria. The first one was destroyed by the war. The second one is used by his parents.

Jessica Stone: Are they hiding a lot of stuff in this house?

Hassan Choubassi: Okay he say that the most important and expensive thing that they have, was the first house that was destroyed by a bomb. So they don’t have anything right now. Only the jewellery of the women.

Jessica Stone: That’s very sad I can’t imagine losing all the family possessions.

Hassan Choubassi: He say that whatever if he lose a lot of expensive things, but we win our life, we still alive and that’s the most important. He hope to all the Syrian peoples, he think just take care of his life, and don’t care about other things. Just think that they should be safety and take care of their families. 

Justine Boillat: have you found this safe place that you were looking for in Lebanon. Did you find it here?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that maybe I found a safety place, but not full of safety. Because now safety place, like our country. He say that he just found about 60% of safety here, but not full of safety. 

Justine Boillat: Have you felt welcomed here?

Hassan Choubassi: He say that Lebanon and Syria are like my country. He get a welcome at the beginning. And he thank the Lebanese government. Because he say is a small government in a country with a lot of refugees and people. And they help a lot the refugees. 

Justine Boillat: What are the little things that make you happy in your everyday life here?

Hassan Choubassi: Okay he say that the simple things, is just to be able to be able to move in a freedom here. Because the Lebanese people love the Syrian refugees here and they have a good relation. And he don’t have any problems travelling here.

Jessica Stone: To wrap up, I was curious how you imagine your situation in the future.

Hassan Choubassi: Okay he think that the war in Syria will finish and Syria will be better soon and they will come back. that’s what he see in the future pictures for Syria. And all the refugees will come back to Syria and the war will end.

Jessica Stone: That was the second episode of Refugee’s Stories. 

Made with the support of Salam LADC, and NGO working in the Beqaa Valley with Khansaa's community and other like it. You can donate to Salam LADC here.

This episode was sponsored by Hindenburg audio suite. If you’re interested in getting into podcasting or audio storytelling yourself, try their free 30-day trial.

Music credits in order:

Creeping Glass by Axletree

Amor é odio by Nuno Adelaida

teeth wrapped in tissue by ALPHAMALE

Ya Rayah by Banda Comunale & Internationale

F. Meridian by Nuno Adelaida

Farewell by Amr Ezz

Ya Souria Zalane Malak by Youssef Tage

teeth wrapped in tissue by ALPHAMALE

Intro by The Orchestra of Syrian Musicians

Lost Memories by Rocco Granata

Translators: Hassan Choubassi & Wael Yassin

Assistant: Justine Boillat

Further thanks to Miguel Ángel Isotta Sanchez and Gregory Stone.

Writing and production: Jessica Stone.

Our first episode follows the life of Khansaa, a young woman from Homs currently living in the Beqaa Valley. 

Made with the support of Salam LADC, and NGO working in the Beqaa Valley with Khansaa's community and other like it. You can donate to Salam LADC here.

This episode was sponsored by Hindenburg audio suite. If you’re interested in getting into podcasting or audio storytelling yourself, try their free 30-day trial.

Music credits in order:

Lasbet Ma Yeoud Ezzamane by Yousef Tage

Three Kites Circling by Axletree

Semseyemin Ucu Kare with Oud Solo by Haig Manoukian by Orchestra Keyif

Green by ALPHAMALE

Tareek 3teet by Yousef Kekhia And Bisher Hafez

Mawtini by Faia Younan (Lyrics by Ibrahim Toukan, composed by Fleifel Brothers, arranged by Rayan Habre).

Translator: Hassan Choubassi

Assistant: Guillem Jiménez Vilà

Culture consultant: Mohammad Hamoud

Editing team: Jessica Alexander-Lillicrap, Justine Boillat, Stacy Gougoulis, Emma Hett, Laran Matta, Kristen Negrotti, Maria Stacke and Miranda White.

Further thanks to Miguel Ángel Isotta Sanchez and Nicholas Stone.

Writing and production: Jessica Stone.