Qamishli, Syria — Classrooms at a deserted school in this northeastern city have been converted into cramped shelters for families displaced since January. Children dart across the courtyard, not as students but as makeshift occupants of a facility filled with people who fled fighting that closed in on formerly Kurdish-held areas.
Assad was toppled in late 2024 by Turkish-backed opposition forces. The Kurdish-led administration that governed an autonomous region for about 12 years after breaking from the Syrian regime in 2012 has been pushed back toward the center of the conflict. In January, Syrian government forces retook territory in intense fighting before a U.S.-brokered ceasefire halted immediate hostilities. The deal arranged for government control of borders, security and oil fields in exchange for promised Kurdish rights — commitments that residents say have yet to be implemented.
Many families sheltering in the school were uprooted repeatedly, including people who fled the Tabqa displacement camp. A displaced father and former shopkeeper described the chaotic evacuation: “We squeezed all the children on top of us and in the back of the truck and I put all our stuff on top.” Some fled on foot, others rode in trucks with livestock, and some crammed into pickups — one parked in the courtyard still bears an American-flag sticker and the word “Allah” scrawled across the windshield.
Bitterness toward the United States runs deep. Syrian Kurds provided the main ground forces that fought alongside U.S. troops against ISIS, and Kurdish leaders say about 10,000 fighters died. When U.S. officials declared in January that Kurdish forces were no longer needed against ISIS, many Kurds say that decision effectively opened the way for the Turkish-backed offensive. The White House did not respond to requests for comment on Kurdish accusations of abandonment.
Conditions inside the converted classrooms are severe. Small kerosene heaters stand unused for lack of fuel; people burn sticks, old clothing or a little gasoline to get warm. Donated food is difficult to prepare and water cannot be reliably boiled. Sanitation worker Said Mohammad Mustafa, 63, and his wife, Sabah Hassan Biro, were among the last to leave their camp and had only hours’ notice. They lost contact with their 15-year-old daughter, Zaynib, who had heart surgery a year earlier; friends later said she joined Kurdish fighters and was killed in an ambush. Her body was returned and she was buried in mid-April in Qamishli, where she received a martyr’s funeral.
Some displaced families have been able to return. In mid-April, roughly 800 families went back to Afrin under the terms of the ceasefire that also saw government forces take control of formerly Kurdish-held areas. But many people at the Qamishli school remain in limbo, having little left after multiple displacements. Mustafa and Biro, who had no transport, fled on foot when Syrian forces drew near.
Trauma is widespread. Schools have been closed since the January fighting. Children who experienced earlier displacements show signs of distress: a 10-year-old recounted seeing bodies along the road. Gulestan Rashid, who helps run the shelter, said her nephew was sickened after witnessing burned bodies of regime soldiers while evacuated from Shahba camp near Afrin. Residents recall bombardment, bodies in the streets and having to lie flat on the ground while fleeing.
Amid the bleakness, small attempts at normal life persist: a vendor weighs out pumpkin seeds to sell, a snack table sits by the school entrance. The owner of the red pickup, holding a 2-year-old nicknamed “Trump” because of her blond hair, said of the U.S. president, “I used to like Trump but not anymore. You saw what he did to us — he sold us out.” For many Syrian Kurds here, the future remains uncertain as ceasefire terms stall and promises of rights and protection have yet to materialize.