Bashar al-Assad fell – then a woman found out about her husband’s past

It was early December when Douna Haj Ahmed, a Syrian refugee, revealed the disturbing details of her husband’s imprisonment in the notorious Al-Khatib prison – known as “Hell on earth“.

On the news at home in London, she watched confused prisoners fleeing the country’s brutal security apparatus after rebels toppled Bashar al-Assad as president.

In tears, Abdullah Al Nofal, to whom she was married for eight years, sat next to her, turned around and said: “This is where I was arrested, this is the place.”

Douna, whose brothers were also arrested during Syria’s 13-year civil war, says she had an idea of ​​what her husband experienced while incarcerated – but this was the first time he shared full details of what he had gone through.

“Abdullah doesn’t like to share things emotionally, he likes to always look like a strong guy,” Douna, 33, told the BBC.

“It was a turning point. I saw him weak. I saw him cry. I saw him say, ‘Here I was. I could be one of them. I could be one of them now, or I could be dead.” ‘.

“I feel like when he saw that, he felt like this was closure,” she adds. “Now we want people to know what the Syrians have been through.”

Abdullah, 36, was working as a shopkeeper with the International Committee of the Red Cross in Damascus in July 2013 when he and his colleagues were stopped by chance at a checkpoint on the outskirts of the Syrian capital.

He says he took part in anti-regime protests in 2011 in the southern city of Deraa, where the uprising against Assad began, but soon distanced himself as rebels used violence and weapons in response to a brutal crackdown by regime forces.

Abdullah was picked at the checkpoint and handcuffed and blindfolded, put on a green bus and taken to a military compound. He says he was then put in solitary confinement for three days and beaten.

“I remember it was so dark for three days,” he says.

“I don’t hear any noise. It was so dark. You don’t hear anything. You feel so lonely.”

Abdullah was then transported to Al-Khatib, a detention center in Damascus, and placed in a cell with about 130 people.

Al-Khatib was one of several Syrian intelligence detention facilities.

According to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights, a Britain-based monitoring group, nearly 60,000 people were tortured and killed in the Assad regime’s prisons during the civil war.

Two years ago a historic process took place in Germany a Syrian colonel who worked in Al-Khatib and was guilty of crimes against humanity. Anwar Raslan, 58, has been linked to the torture of over 4,000 people in prison.

Witnesses described the condition of the detainees in court raped and hung from the ceiling for hours, as well as the use of electric shocks before dousing with water. Assad’s authoritarian government had previously rejected allegations of torture.

While in prison in 2013, Abdullah describes hearing this regularly Screams of people being tortured.

He remembers how widespread disease was and that about 20 people died while he was held there.

“When I started looking around everywhere, there were people almost naked,” he tells the BBC. “They were covered in blood, as if they had been tortured.”

“If you are not being tortured yourself, someone will be taken away to be examined every minute.

“You will return to the room covered in blood…every time you touch someone, they will scream because you touched their wound.”

After twelve days, Abdullah was taken for questioning, where he said he was repeatedly beaten with a metal weapon and accused of transporting weapons.

He explains that he cannot deny the allegations made against him as this would result in a longer sentence.

“As long as you say, ‘I didn’t do it,’ they will continue to torture you and take you to another level of torture,” he says.

“Every minute it’s like you’re dying.”

Abdullah said he told officers a false story to avoid further questioning and was “lucky” to be released after a month.

A year later he left Syria and later received scholarships in Geneva and the USA. He now lives in London with his wife.

Only now does Abdullah feel able to share the full horror of his experiences with his wife, as the risk and fear he faced slowly disappears.

“We are finally done with the regime, we can say we are truly free now,” he says.

“You can use our name. You can use our face. We can tell the whole story.”

Douna, a human rights activist, sobbed when she first heard about her husband’s experiences.

“I heard him and cried. Every time I feel that this regime has reached the maximum of horror, of terrible stories,” she says.

“I’m surprised that’s not the maximum. There could be more.”

She adds: “We are privileged to be able to tell our stories. Many people have died without being heard.”