Over a decade ago, Khalil — a photographer — took part in a visiting artists’ program led by PPP Associate Artist Gary Stewart in partnership with the British Council. Over the years, Khalil has sent us powerful testimonies about his life as a Palestinian refugee in Syria.
On 8 December 2024, Ba’athist Syria, led by President Bashar al-Assad, collapsed during a major offensive by opposition forces. Khalil took to the streets to celebrate, hoping for freedom. This is what Khalil has shared with us:
Damascus, Syria, 13th December 2024
By Khalil
My name is Khalil. I am a photographer, and my dream was to become a professional. I had a camera that a friend from Queen Mary University of London gave me, but unfortunately, it was stolen, and I couldn’t afford a new one. I stopped taking pictures because of the regime’s crackdown on freedoms and my fear of being arrested.
My journey started in 2007 with the British organization Revox, where I received training in photography through the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF). I attended various training courses, supporting young people and showcasing our work in local and international exhibitions, including in London.
In 2011, the Syrian revolution began. We were silenced as the regime suppressed our freedoms.
UNICEF informed us that we would travel to London to participate in the Syrian-Palestinian-Iraqi-European Youth Forum. I was overjoyed when I received my visa for Britain.
But two weeks before my trip, I was arrested by the regime and detained in the Palestine branch prison. I was tortured but released after 24 hours because I wasn’t on their wanted list. Despite being freed, I was terrified and felt sure I would be detained again.
We eventually travelled to Britain and were hosted by People’s Palace Projects.
In London, I met Paul Heritage, who has remained my friend to this day.
For the first time, I felt free and safe, far from the reach of Bashar’s regime. We even held a demonstration calling for freedom and the overthrow of Bashar al-Assad. It was one of the first anti-Assad protests in Europe. However, we avoided filming it, fearing reprisals upon returning to Damascus.
I made friends in Britain—kind people with great experience in photography and incredible talent. London was beautiful. The transportation system amazed me, especially compared to the chaos in Syria. The city felt so organized, and the people were as well.
We toured the city, took photos, and attended the “One Day for Peace” event, wishing for peace in Syria and Palestine. We also held a photography exhibition in a London suburb, which was a success.
When we left London, I cried.
Returning to Damascus, I found a country transformed. The violence had escalated, with bombings, mass displacement, arrests, executions, and destruction everywhere. In 2013, I was arrested again, this time by the Military Security Branch. I was held alongside dozens of other detainees, our hands tied behind our backs. Many around me suffered severe injuries from the tight restraints. We were beaten brutally. Out of about 50 people, only five of us were released—I was one of them. I never found out what happened to my friends.
Life under the regime was unbearable. There was no stable work, and my monthly income barely reached $20. As the war calmed and the regime regained control of most cities, the Syrian pound collapsed. I worked long hours in factories, but life remained harsh and dehumanizing.
Then, everything changed. Aleppo was liberated, and the army withdrew. Hama followed, and the rebels reached the outskirts of Homs. On Friday, Daraa and Sweida were liberated. On Saturday, just before Bashar’s fall, the army retreated from the southern neighbourhoods of Damascus.
That night, all eyes were on Sednaya prison—the infamous “human slaughterhouse.” We hoped for the release of the 200,000 detainees held there. But tragically, only a small number were freed. Thousands had been killed, their bodies hidden in acid rooms or buried in mass graves.
On Sunday morning, Bashar al-Assad’s regime fell. After five decades of injustice and tyranny under the Assad family, we finally saw the end of their rule.
As the regime crumbled, shocking revelations emerged. Beneath roads, parks, and universities were secret prisons. We saw horrific images and videos from Sednaya prison: a child born and raised inside its walls, acid rooms used to dispose of bodies, and stories of unimaginable torture and suffering.
Now, in Syria, we celebrate the fall of Assad after decades of oppression.
I hope that peace and security return to Syria, that a new government fulfils the aspirations of the Syrian people, and that international sanctions are lifted.
Above all, I hope that Syria will be free—forever.
Disclaimer: People’s Palace Projects (PPP) has not fact-checked the content of this blog. The views expressed here are solely those of the artist who has worked with us in the past and maintained regular contact over the last 12 years of the war. Only now PPP feel it is safe to share their personal account publicly
PPP welcomes photos and stories from other artists who have been involved in or impacted by the conflict. We value diverse perspectives and invite contributions to help document and reflect on this critical moment in history.