The Return to Homs

I hugged all of them.

We kissed each other.

At the gates of city

we bid each other adieu.

Before that, there was a part of

the conversation that I don't remember.

I don't remember certain details,

or colors...

The city I used to pass by on my 'nave!

route to my old house 'm Damascus.

Not once did I think about going into Homs.

The city which has become

the most precious thing I have.

Nothing can compensate this toss.

I cannot make judgments.

Did we do the right thing?

I take one last look at the place.

I may not pass by there again...

and if I do, it is going to be lonelier

without my loved ones.

Stop!

Stay by my side!

Hold me again for as long as you can.

Homs, the audacious...

Leave us be, it's what we need.

We're the grandchildren of Khaled.

Leave us be, it's what we need.

We're the grandchildren of Khaled.

Leave! Leave! Leave!

Evening protest on

Stadium street, Homs.

The army's hearts are dead.

The honor in them is dead.

Why is it killing us? Army and people

are supposed to be brothers.

It is your choice, soldier,

to kill or to heal...

It is your choice, soldier,

to kill or to heal...

The age of oppression will end,

The people shall overcome.

Look, they've recorded all your songs!

A bit of time is left for me

to tell parts of the story...

Our previous dreams are behind us now...

Nb; first visit to Homs in 2011

working with Ossama and Abou Adrian

as a media activist...

At days when no media was aimed

to cover the events 'm Syria.

Homs, Al-Hamra neighborhood.

The regime fires tear-gas on protesters.

August 1st, 2011.

This guy is our friend.

His name is Adnan Abdul-Dayem.

He's holding a placard that says:

"Peaceful".

We can see that some of the other

protestors were throwing rocks...

whereas he did not.

He chanted:
"Peaceful"

in front of security forces.

We lost him on that very night.

I was named 2nd best young

goalkeeper in Asia.

I played in the Syrian National Youth

team and for Karama FC.

When I first joined the sit-in.

Regime deployed snipers around.

I couldn't stay sitting down.

I told my friends: Hold me up.

I took off my shirt and chanted "Listen up

sniper, here's my neck, here's my head".

Abdul-Basset, may God protect you.

Homs, the audacious!

Buman Ghalioun, aren't you listening?

The people want a no-fly zone.

Heroes of Khalediya and Bayada

"Martyrdom and Victory".

Bashar kills his own people

to keep his seat.

Shame on him! Shame on him!

Victory, o Homs!

Damn your soul, damn your soul o Hafa!

Basset, we love you Basset,

Basset we love you.

People want to live in dignity and freedom.

The mayor was corrupt, they demanded

his dismissal and he was dismissed.

But the regime suppressed them

so they wanted to topple it!

We didn't demand

toppling the regime at first.

It was what we learned that changed us.

Maybe older generations already knew

the regime better. Our generation didn't.

Bilal, when you die I'll post

this photo on your tribute page.

Will call it:

"We are all as lame as Bilal".

One is shot at, then scandalized!

The Army continued its campaign

to take over Al Rastan...

This is "Al Assad Military Hospital".

We were there to pick up

our dead friend's body.

Look at the hospital's torture room!

This guy is dead.

You call this dead? Look. He's been

mutilated beyond recognition.

Look, they interrogate people here.

I was the only one who entered,

hence, I can't publish this video.

They're such morons. I had my

phone camera on and I was recording...

pretending that I was talking:

"Hey, how are you? We're coming soon"...

We used to cross the most risky

checkpoints to join his demos...

On TV, Syrians used to gather

to listen to Basset...

whenever he's on, live from Homs.

His courage and popularity

amongst Syrians...

put him on the regime's wanted list.

He was accused of many charges,

including terrorism.

The army raided his neighborhood,

Bayada, looking for him.

He was able to escape with his parents...

but the army killed

his older brother Walid...

with his cousins

and a number of his friends.

The family home was destroyed...

when they refused to leave it

and surrender.

I left the house and got into my car.

They were watching us.

They did not target any other cars.

Close to Cairo Str. checkpoint,

I saw two tanks...

I jumped out of the car,

two tank shells hit it, it ew high up.

2 or 3 months ago, I could've

returned to my regular life...

Training with the team and all...

They told me that if I went

to Damascus and met with Bashar...

then spoke on Al-Dunia TV...

They are furious cos' I rejected that offer.

"You'd be a star player!", they said.

But everybody knows I don't

need them to be a star player!

Where are we going?

What's the solution?

Peaceful resistance is futile.

We're dealing with people

who do not fear God.

We'd never win if we stay peaceful

To your right there is a major

security checkpoint.

There are 3 tanks,

a troop carrier and many soldiers.

It's the same if you go

to the left of the street.

2 troop carriers, 2 tanks and more soldiers

who have pitched a tent there.

It is impossible to cross either way!

People created this passage...

because it is the only one

linking Khalediya to Bayada.

The closure of Cairo Str crossing...

was one of the early signs

of the siege that came later.

This was the only road

Ossama and I used to take...

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