Through my eyes: From Douma to Damascus

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A video by the Arab production company Kharabeesh (Arabic for Scribbles) making fun of the Syrian Parliament’s performance during Assad’s speech

Activist tells of Friday protest which galvanized 100,000 demonstrators

A month after the Syrian revolution began, there were still doubts about people’s desire to demonstrate again the following Friday. Those doubts didn’t come out of nowhere. The regime had used all its tricks and tools, including repression, fear, siege, the state media machine as well as the religious leaders affiliated with the authorities. The goal was to choke the demonstrations and calm the angry of the people. But then came Friday April 15, 2011 and all the doubts vanished in thin air as the people confirmed that their brothers’ blood had not been spilled in vain.

On that day, I left the mosque after Friday prayers and headed, with a group of friends from Douma, to the central Freedom Square to meet others. In the midst of chanting and singing we all marched to the city of Harasta which had witnessed bloodshed a week earlier. We intended to show support for its people.

Cheers and excitement built up as 10,000 of us reached Harasta, despite the roadblocks that the security forces had erected to prevent buses passing. We chose to walk and we were too many to block, so they finally made way for us while we shouted, “the people and the army are one”.

We entered Harasta, a few kilometres away from Douma. It was amazing. The demonstrators there met with us while we all chanted “Douma and Harasta are one hand”. We just had to share our unity with the rest of the villages around Damascus, so we all spontaneously marched to Arabeen, a village neighbouring Damascus. On the way, the villagers distributed water to the demonstrators, and, from rooftops and balconies, cheered for our victory. Again, we met our fellow demonstrators calling for freedom and the downfall of the regime.

Our morale was growing, we were happy to have succeeded thus far, and now Damascus had to be the ultimate destination, so we shouted, “to the capital!” We moved from Arabeen towards Zamlaka cheering, “out with Bashar!” By then, our numbers had swelled to around 100,000 demonstrators. We shouted, “we’ll go to paradise, millions of martyrs” and “to the capital”.

When we only had to cross the Zamlaka bridge before entering the capital, we thought we would be the first huge demonstration to march through the streets of Damascus.

Then, the security forces came up to us and started firing, but we just walked on and they failed to stop us. We entered Damascus, crying, “the people want the downfall of the regime”. Our aim now was Abbassid square in the middle of Damascus where we intended to make the afternoon prayers and stay for a sit-in. But hundreds of security forces blocked our path, with big barriers, firing throwing teargas canisters, beating us with thick sticks. They also fired live bullets and arrested many of us.

That was the end of it. The demonstration was finally dispersed. We had to run our separate ways, seeking refuge in the maze of the old alleys of Damascus.

The demonstration ended at the borders of the Abbassid square, but only after Damascus had been awakened from its deep sleep to announce its revolution against the regime, its dictatorship and president whose pictures were torn down in all the cities we entered.

We realised that we, as demonstrators, have learned how to work and move fast and be flexible, in addition to utilising discipline.

Yes, we went back home, but only after we confirmed that we are one in this battle for freedom.