“It was no coincidence” he told me, he had lost his 3 sons in an air strike this summer. “I only have my daughter left to live my life for otherwise I am not fit to breath” still he walked me around the scene in his neighborhood and opened way for me to use my camera although many of those present did not want me to film this renewed disaster, furious that the world was incompetent of any action.

A man near by was panicking for the whereabouts of his children as we were at the scene of yet another attack. “My children! Has anyone seen my children? He begged, The man who was guiding me grabbed my shoulder and whispered “he has no idea his two sons are buried under that rubble, soon he will find out and live the misery that has haunted me since I lost mine”

I looked up at his face and saw the anger trapped inside, his eyes did not flicker the slightest as he stared deep into mine. Astonished by how much I could read in his everlasting stare I took a few steps back and took three shots, between each a few seconds.

As I walked out through the alleyways of the old city of Aleppo I could not get this man’s stare out of my head. I scrolled through the pictures I had taken of him.

All three shots looked exactly the same.

By Rami Jarrah