There, where it was written on the gate of Tadmur Prison, “Those who enter are lost, and those who leave are born again.” I was born again. In order to attain freedom, I resolved to speak out and release what I had suffered and endured, from the ordeals of daily torture to the systematic humiliation inflicted on me and on everyone who was an inmate of the hellish Tadmur Prison. It was never easy for me to dive back in and scatter my sleeping memories piled up in a random way to revive and rearrange them again,

entering the toilet, the bathroom, the medicine, fear, terror, the disease, scabies, dreams, the period of humiliating breathing… even licking the jailers’ shoes, forcing us to drink from the polluted, muddy water while breathing, distributing semi-food mixed with insects and sometimes with the jailer’s urine, we drink and eat the little we get with greed to stay alive, we are beaten, cursed, tortured and torture each other by order of the jailer, and our mothers and our honor are cursed… and we are asked to describe the bodies of our women so that this despicable jailer can enjoy the description. We accept it, we pile it up with the bitter memories until the time comes with freedom. I remember and how I forget most of the nights and with the gentle breezes we smell the scent of The remains of our comrades who were buried in mass graves around the hell of Tadmur prison, thousands of memories rush to the forefront to come out into the open, all of them heinous and painful, kneaded and mixed with hatred and malice towards this hideous Assad regime

No rights dies as long as  someone is demanding it

I overcame my imprisonment, became stronger than the jailers, freed myself from my inner fear, and I am very proud that I exposed the jailer and the unjust regime and held them accountable

. A prisoner who isolates himself remains a prisoner despite his release.i know a lot of them.

استعدتُ ،وراجعتُ،  كل الذكريات المدفونة بأعماقي وعدت بالذاكرة إلى الأسرار اللي حفّظتها للحيطان وتركتها معهم وديعة، استرجعتها …تفاجأت كم كانت مؤلمة لي وبحق رفقاتي .

أنا انتصرت على الاعتقال

واصبحتاقوىمنالسجانين

وحررتنفسيمنالخوفالداخلي

وفضحتالسجانينوالنظامالظالم

المعتقلالمنزويعلىنفسهيبقىسجينارغمخروجهإلىالحرية

I retrieved and reviewed all the memories buried deep within me and went back in memory to the secrets I had kept behind the walls and left with them as a deposit. I retrieved them… I was surprised at how painful they were for me and my camaraderie

الموتاخفقهروأخفوجع

إِنَّهَا مُعَانَاةُ القَهْرِ، وَالظُّلْمِ، وَالخَوْفِ، وَالرُّعْبِ، وَالْمَرَضِ، وَالْعَزْلَةِ، وَالجُوعِ. السِّجْنُ السِّيَاسِيُّ هُوَ انكِسَارٌ، فَالروحُ مَحطُمَةٌ وَمُشتَّتَةٌ، حَزينَةٌ وَمُظْلِمَةٌ وَمُحْبَطَةٌ وَمَشْبَعَةٌ بِالذُّلِّ.

نُضْرَبُ وَنُجَلَدُ بِأَسَالِيبِهِمُ الغَرِيبَةِ وَعَلَى مِزَاجِهِمُ الْوَحْشِيِّ.

At Tadmur Prison, there was a saying on the gate: “Those who enter are lost, and those who leave are born again.” I feel like I was born again. To find freedom, I decided to share what I went through, from the daily torture to the humiliation faced by me and everyone in that terrible prison. It was hard for me to dive back into my memories, especially the painful ones, and to sort them out again.

I remember the awful things—the toilet, the bathroom, being sick with scabies, the fear, the terrible conditions, and the shame of having to do awful things like licking the jailers’ shoes. We were made to drink dirty water and were given food that sometimes had insects or was mixed with the jailer’s urine. We had to eat what little we got, desperate to stay alive. We were beaten, cursed, tortured, and even tortured each other because of the jailers’ orders. They insulted our mothers and our dignity. They made us describe the bodies of our women for their amusement. We kept all these painful memories inside us, waiting for the day we could be free.

I remember those nights and how we could smell the remains of our friends buried in mass graves around the prison. So many painful memories come back, mixed with anger towards the terrible Assad regime. No right is lost as long as someone is fighting for it.

I overcame my time in prison and became stronger than the jailers. I freed myself from my fears, and I’m proud that I exposed the jailers and held the unfair regime accountable. A person who isolates themselves remains a prisoner, even after they are freed, and I know many who still feel that way.