On April 7, 2013, three families traveling from Beirut were heading toward Idlib. It was supposed to be an ordinary journey, one that would end with a family reunion and a new life in Turkey. Instead, it ended at a checkpoint in Homs. From that moment on, the car disappeared, The driver disappeared, and everyone inside vanished without a trace. Nine children were among them: Ayham Sayed Issa, just eight months old. Triplets Ahmad, Abdullah, and Ibrahim Kanjo, eight years old. Ghina Sayed Issa, two years old. Yathrib Sayed Issa, six. Abdullah Sayed Issa, eight. Abdulhadi Sayed Issa, eleven. Aya Sayed Issa, sixteen. They disappeared alongside their mothers , and have never been seen again. Mohammad Kanjo, the father of the triplets, says it was the first disappearance case he had heard of in that area. He was waiting for his wife and children to arrive in Idlib before continuing together to Turkey — a journey that never happened. His three children had been born after nine years of waiting. Kanjo himself had worked for Syria’s Military Industrialization Authority before defecting. He still remembers the last phone call. “They told me they were at Al-Zahra checkpoint in Homs… then the line went dead. After that, all the phones were unreachable.” Later, while searching for answers through the Idlib governor’s office, he discovered other families looking for the same missing convoy. There, he met Abdulqader Sayed Issa, the father of five missing children, and Haitham Sayed Issa, father of baby Ayham. That was when the scale of the disappearances became clearer. Thirteen cars coming from Idlib had vanished in the same area. All carried Idlib license plates. None returned. Kanjo says he later spoke, through the governor’s office, with Wael al-Halqi, Syria’s former prime minister at the time. According to him, the response was blunt: “Go look for them with the terrorists. The terrorists took them.” More than thirteen years later, the families are still searching. For a document. A photograph. A grave. Mohammad Kanjo ends with words shaped by years of waiting: “We will keep remembering them until we die.”…
Aleppo, Syria For more than a decade, Zaher Alolaby has not stopped searching. “Since 2012, I have followed every possible path that could lead me to them,” he says. On October 28, 2012, during the Eid al-Adha holiday, his brother Hazem Alolaby, then 23, disappeared along with his wife Doaa Falaheh and their two daughters, Hala (born 2007) and Hadia (born 2009), after being stopped at a security checkpoint in Aleppo, according to the family. The journey was meant to take only minutes. It never ended. Zaher says the family later learned the four were transferred between multiple security branches, including State Security, Air Force Intelligence, and National Security in Damascus. Paying for Information Over the years, Zaher tried to obtain any information. “Even to know if he was alive, they wanted money,” he says. He describes paying large sums for vague updates or promises to deliver clothes and basic items to his brother in detention. “Once, they asked for millions just to tell me how he was.” He says he also handed over gold and cash through intermediaries and officers, with no clear outcome. Last Known Sighting The last reported sighting came in 2021, when a former detainee said he saw Hazem in a military hospital. Zaher says his brother suffered from a nerve condition in his leg, which may explain the transfer. Since then, there has been no information. Today, Hala would be 19, and Hadia 16, Their fate remains unknown. “I have no information… whether they are alive or dead,” Zaher says. He believes they may be in orphanages, based on limited and unconfirmed leads. Years of Dead Ends The family sought legal help and contacted officials, but received no definitive answers. “We just want the truth… where are they?” he says. During Syria’s conflict, tens of thousands of people have disappeared after detention or arrest, according to rights groups. Many cases remain unresolved due to lack of access to official records. Despite the years, Zaher has not given up. “I still have hope… to know where the girls are.”…
The Tiny Hand team, in collaboration with Daraj, collected over 50 testimonies documenting the killing of 60 children during the massacres in the Syrian coastal region. To this day, the perpetrators have not been held accountable. These were “unidentified” killers — witnesses interviewed could not determine their factional affiliations, alongside others from armed civilian groups who arrived in the coastal area. Amnesty International has called for their prosecution, considering the events of March 6, 7, 8, and 9, 2025, to be war crimes….
All names in this investigative report have been changed to protect the safety and security of those involved and to ensure the identities of the foster families who have taken in some of these children remain confidential. Confidentiality is a fundamental principle in the success of this mission, as safeguarding the identities of both the children and the families providing care is critical, particularly in regions affected by ongoing conflict and instability.
In the heart of Old Damascus,, where life is marked by challenges and hardships, lives Maya. At just 14 years old, she carries burdens far beyond her years.