Aleppo, my beloved

2023, Tekoja

In June 2023, Aleppo still catches the light of early summer evenings, even as it carries the weight of a decade that refuses to settle. Among the world’s oldest continuously inhabited cities, it has lately been reduced, in international memory, to a single set of images: urban warfare, siege, ruin.

The damage is not only structural. War has rewritten the city’s sense of itself, the way people move through familiar streets and what they allow themselves to expect. In the alleys of Al-Madina Souk, a marketplace shaped over centuries, fire and bombardment have erased stalls and historic details. And in 2023, just as the city was trying to steady itself after years of war, the earthquake brought another shock that folded fresh loss into old wounds.

The aftermath is counted in essentials: roofs, rent, cash. Reports after the quake described more than 72,000 families losing their homes, pushing people into emergency shelters, including school buildings. With average monthly incomes put at around $30 and rents rising far beyond what many families can afford, rebuilding can feel less like a plan than a distant hope.

And still, evenings arrive. At the Aleppo Citadel, families sit on benches because cafés are out of reach, opening picnic boxes as children run through the square. The city’s affection for itself survives in these ordinary rituals, and in a refrain you hear again and again from people who have every reason to leave: home is not so easily surrendered.

This feature was shortlisted for Magazine Story of the Year at Editkilpailu 2023, organised by the Finnish Magazine Media Association, and received an honourable mention.

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