Syria one year after Assad's fall: Refugees return to rebuild lives amid ruins

One year after the fall of Assad's regime, Syria is continuing to write a new chapter in its modern history.

A key part of this transition has been the return of Syrians from Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan, and other Arab and European countries, all eager to rebuild the lives that were abruptly disrupted more than a decade ago.

For many of these returnees, the journey home has been about much more than crossing a border. It has been an encounter with a country irrevocably changed — not only in its landscapes and cities, but in its people and collective memory.

And understandably, the challenges facing these returnees have been enormous, as they have had to navigate a land in ruins and a society whose fabric has been torn apart by years of conflict.

As these returnees reflect on their experiences, The New Arab spoke to several of them to understand what their journeys back home have been like.

Hard confrontations 

For Salwa Kanan, crossing into Syria was both emotional and surreal. She remembers being at the Bab al-Hawa crossing in northern Syria when a bus from Adana, in Turkey, arrived as the sun was setting.

In the back seat, she held her child close, trying to calm him before stepping onto land her son had only known through his grandmother's stories.

Looking back on her years away from home, Salwa says that deciding to return was not easy.

Despite the difficulties, she sees her return as an attempt to reclaim what's left of the life she recognises, especially since the years of displacement were filled with painful moments and constant efforts to adapt.

She explains that her decision to return was driven by a desire for her child to grow up surrounded by family and to reconnect with his roots, far from the uncertainty of temporary residence.

Salwa emphasised that she was fully aware of the challenges that lay ahead upon returning. She acknowledged the uncertainty she faced — from the unknown living conditions in the devastated countryside of Idlib, where she had left her home eight years earlier, to the lack of job opportunities and scarce services.

Yet, despite all this, she says, "the hardship inside the country remains easier than the anxiety I experienced abroad."

And although her emotions are mixed with fear and nostalgia, she seems to be experiencing for the first time the true meaning of return.

"It's not just a physical relocation," she reflects, "but a long confrontation with memory and the image of a homeland that has changed a lot compared to what my son has heard, and what I have carried in my heart during all these years of absence."

Unanticipated shocks

Khaled Diop, who returned to his home in Deir Hafer, east of Aleppo, after 10 years in Lebanon, shares a similar experience to Salwa's.

According to Khaled, when he stood before the iron gate of his house upon returning, he was confronted with a scene he had never imagined: the place he once knew had become a ruin, with exposed concrete floors, solitary columns supporting a missing roof, and cracked walls enclosing an empty courtyard.

He remembers the days when his children played in the corner, now left empty, and says, "Returning to this ruin was a shock I had not expected."

Like Salwa, Khaled faced immediate challenges. He and his family spent two months in a borrowed tent before receiving a small repair grant from a local aid group.

"That small support allowed me to stay," Khaled says, adding that although it only covered basic needs, the housing crisis remains the biggest obstacle for many returnees.

Homes were either destroyed, occupied by other displaced families, or so damaged that most returnees could not afford to repair them.

Khaled's situation is not unique. Like many others in rural Aleppo and beyond, his greatest challenge remains finding a home, as the houses they left behind are either destroyed or uninhabitable, making it difficult for returnees to regain stability.

Steady steps

For many, like Khaled, the challenges are overwhelming, but there are also stories of hope.

One such story is that of Rahma Youssef, a returnee from Jordan, who now works behind a sewing machine in a small workshop on the outskirts of Damascus.

Supported by a local project for women-headed households, Rahma reflects on her return while sewing dresses for a store: "When I came back, I had almost nothing — no money, no permanent home, and no work. I felt like I was going back to square one, and that everything we had built during the years of displacement would disappear at the border."

She adds, with a faint smile of relief: "But this project changed a lot for me. It restored my confidence and made me feel able to start a new life, even with small, steady steps. The work was simple, but it gave me independence and opened opportunities I hadn't expected when I returned. I didn't just get a job — I gained hope. I feel that coming back wasn't the wasted risk I had feared.”

Despite recognising the challenges, from the rising cost of living to the difficulty in finding suitable housing, Rahma believes that these initiatives give returnees the ability to stand on their feet again.

She continues, "The circumstances are not easy, but having a project to support us at the beginning of the road makes everything seem easier."

Getting priorities straight

Speaking specifically about education, Layla Al-Amar, who returned to Kafr Nbouda in northern Hama from Egypt, recalls standing at the school door as her children returned after years of displacement.

The school, like many others across Syria, had been badly damaged by shelling — its walls riddled with holes, windows replaced by residents, and classrooms only partially refurbished with limited funding from a civil society organisation.

Despite the devastation, Layla remains determined to ensure her children receive an education.

"I returned here for the sake of educating my children in their country," she says. "But, honestly, the school still needs a lot of renovation."

She adds, "The shelling is over, but its traces remain in every corner. Despite all this destruction, we will not let our children lose their right to an education again. They will continue their studies, this time without the fear of shelling."

Expanding businesses 

Beyond the challenges of rebuilding education, many returnees have found ways to start small businesses or resume their previous professions, transforming their return from a risky step into a new beginning that gives their lives fresh meaning after years of displacement.

In one of the neighbourhoods of rural Homs, a small workshop for making wooden products is crowded with workers, and the sound of electric saws blends with the echo of hammering on wood.

This project, which now employs eleven workers, belongs to Laith Ouda, a carpenter who lived in Lebanon before deciding to return to his hometown five months ago.

Laith says, while pointing to the corner where he started his work again, "I thought returning would take me back to square one, and that I would return to a country without opportunities, but I decided to open my workshop as I had before the war. I started with six workers, and today there are eleven, and the business has expanded faster than I expected."

He adds that the demand for locally made products and the rising cost of imports gave him space to move in the market, noting that returning is not easy, but it is not as impossible as he had imagined.

"The important thing is to have a profession, you know, and with time, everything starts to improve," he shares.

'All you need is to start' 

Laith's success mirrors that of Sarah Al-Salloum, a young woman who returned from Istanbul and opened a small bookstore in rural Daraa.

Sarah, like many others, had fears about what awaited her upon returning.

She says, "I was afraid that the country would not support my dreams, and that I would return to find all the doors closed, but I discovered that there was a huge gap, and people were thirsty for services and for opening projects. Despite the difficult circumstances, opportunities still exist."

She adds that her small project has become a point of contact between her and the people of the town, and that the early success of this work made her feel that returning was not just an emotional decision but a step that could be built upon.

"Sometimes, all you need is to start, and then the country takes care of the rest," she explains.

The road to stability

According to the United Nations, by the end of September 2025, about one million Syrian refugees and 1.8 million internally displaced people had returned to their home areas, a major shift made possible by improved conditions in parts of the country following the start of the transitional phase.

However, despite this positive development, the UN Refugee Agency has called for enhanced international support to ensure that more Syrians can return safely and sustainably.

The agency's call comes amid reports from the Ministry of Refugees and Displaced Persons, which has documented tens of thousands of returns in recent months, with the majority coming from Turkey and Lebanon.

That being said, although these developments are encouraging, serious challenges persist, as widespread destruction of homes and infrastructure, weak basic services, and limited job opportunities continue to hinder the stability and reintegration of many returnees.

Furthermore, more than seven million Syrians remain displaced inside the country, while more than 4.5 million refugees abroad have yet to return. 

UN High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi emphasised the unprecedented suffering Syrians have endured over the past 14 years, with the most vulnerable among them still in urgent need of protection and assistance.

Nevertheless, despite the challenges, many Syrians continue to return home, determined to close the chapter of war and seek a fresh start.

Hadia Al Mansour is a freelance journalist from Syria who has written for Asharq Al-Awsat, Al-Monitor, SyriaUntold, and Rising for Freedom Magazine

Article translated from Arabic by Afrah Almatwari