Oct 26 - Nov 4 I travelled around Damascus to the Mountain of Flowers and the Village of Flowers. Yet, the flowers I saw were not those common to the eye. The portraits I took of the people I met are filled with strong women, who blossom in the dryest and rockiest of places. Here I share with you some of these portraits. I present to you, the true flowers of Syria.


To Mr. Engelsman and the team at Eosta in the Netherlands, to Akis, Shu and the team at Gastronaut, to Nour and the team at Syrian Fingerprints, the families I got to meet, my family in Syria and the readers who take part of these stories,


Thank you,


Selina Hami

Project Manager

Woman in the Village of Flowers

"I come from a city called Haram where we used to grow cotton, beans, olives and mango. They called it the Green Village! Now it isn't green anymore. When the city was attacked and one of my sons was killed, I chose to join the army as a cook and sometimes I would even load their guns with new bullets. Now I've moved here to the Village of Flowers with my daughters, but I still haven't seen a single flower. I hope that one day, we will get back what we have given this country."

Woman in Damascus

"When my siblings and I were kids, we loved to jump rope and climb trees. We picked fresh almonds and walnuts and sometimes we ran to the meadow and picked 'hammeyda' [edible flower] that we rubbed between our hands to dye them orange like henna. We used to come home all dirty from top to toe and I remember our mom was so angry. But under all the dirt we had big smiles on our faces and that is what I will remember the most. "

"We are from Aleppo but left the city when our son was beheaded. My other sons are spread out in Syria while me and my husband found a place to live here." A woman living in a refugee camp in the Village of Sheep close to the city Set Zaynab. Her husband, who is blind and has mpaired hearing, anxiously started calling her name each time she let go of his hand.

"My friends all ran away, they didn't want to be photographed. I think they're shy." In the Mountain of Flowers.

"Excuse me, could you take a photo of me too?" Little girl in the Mountain of Flowers.

"My husband and I lived in Aleppo with our sons. There was nothing left in the city but when one of them wanted to get married I was determined to make him a wedding despite the poverty. We prepared a lot and many friends all contributed so that in the end, my son did have his wedding! Some time later, he was beheaded in Aleppo, in front of the house where his wife and children were. It was because he had refused to take part of the killing."



13,5 kg food packed in a box: Pasta, rise, bulgur, red lentils, beans, green lentils, salt, sugar & oil.

A boy in the refugee camp located in a city called the Village of Sheep close to Set Zaynab.

Girl in the Mountain of Flowers outside Damascus.

A boy fixing his bicycle in the first village we visited called the Village of Flowers. It was a place where flowers cannot be found no more, only dust and rocks were covering the ground. The children, however, were running around the village and playing happily while curiously approaching us newcomers.

A boy playing while awaiting a food box in the first city we visited called the Village of Flowers outside Damascus.

In the first city we visited, the Village of Flowers.

Volunteers helping to unload the truck with food boxes.

A boy in the Mountain of Flowers.
A boy in the Mountain of Flowers.

A family in the Mountain of Flowers.

A Jasmine flower- which is the national flower of Syria. Damascus is also called City of Jasmine.

Some of the food boxes to be distributed in the Mountain of Flowers just outside Set Zaynab.

A Mother's Love.

Plastic chairs and arabic coffee infront of every shop, always ready to socialize.

A man with prayer beads where each bead is used to mark a prayer.