Last Updated on September 28, 2021 by themigrationnews
Documentary. In Arabic, with English subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 35 minutes.
A mother is singing to her baby daughter, a loud explosion outside, a cry for evacuation. With just twenty seconds into the documentary, it is apparent that For Sama brings to the table something that has never before been captured in the Syrian Civil war. Under Waad Al- Khataeb and Edward Watt’s direction, we are invited to witness an intimate war experience. Released in 2019, For Sama traces the journey of Waad across five years of the Syrian uprising in Aleppo, documenting her life and the lives of those around her navigating the everyday horrors of war.
An Unparalleled Documentation of the War Experience
The documentary, which went on to win the Prix L’Œil d’Or for Best Documentary at the 2019 Cannes Film Festival among various others accolades, stands out precisely for its intimateness in depicting the war, because the one behind the lens is not an outsider who can withdraw himself from the scene once the assignment is over, the person holding the camera was one among them fighting for survival. It must be this factor that makes it impossible for the viewer to be an indifferent outsider watching from the comfort of their own homes, but rather you are sucked right into the middle of this human drama for survival. For Sama transports one straight into Aleppo, and you stand there to witness how the world failed a bunch of human beings.
Unlike the other documentaries that usually only focus on fighting, loss, and destruction, For Sama does not portray the people of Aleppo as passive victims who are suspended in uncertainty. In an Aleppo that is grey with smoke and blasted concrete, For Sama captures its colourful human beings and their resilience in the face of war. Whether it was Waad falling in love, getting married and giving birth, or the immeasurable happiness of Afra on being gifted a scantily available persimmon fruit by Salam, the warmth and the vividness of life, the ordinariness that continues to exist in a state of exception that is rarely shown and known in the popular imagery was captured flawlessly, which is undoubtedly an exceptional achievement of the directors.
Death as Everyday Life
However, moments of normalcy are a fleeting luxury, and this is reminded through the merry scenes of the wedding that had momentarily drowned out the bombs, cutting into a somber scene of war-torn Aleppo in an instant. Besides depicting the life that goes on, Waad’s footages, at the same time, have also managed to illuminate the human cost of war at a remarkable level of rawness. The documentary has systematically chronicled the atrocities committed by the Assad regime through its montages of bodies being fished out of the Queiq River in 2013 to the bombings of hospitals right up to 2016. One cannot go through the entire documentary without breaking down at the heart-wrenching visuals that await the viewer at every corner. The truth that death had become a commonplace event in Aleppo is evident from the harrowing visual of the mother refusing to let anyone else carry the lifeless body of her little boy and her brisk acceptance of the news about her child’s death.
Beyond all this, at a personal level, For Sama is an emotional love letter from a mother to her daughter asking for forgiveness and understanding for the choices she made. Born as hope among the cacophony of war, Sama is named after the sky they love and want, a sky without airforces and bombings. Waad’s monologue addressed to Sama narrating her feelings and fears covers the entire documentary. The film is also a testimony to Waad’s growth from a reckless, headstrong youth with nothing to lose to a parent with everything (Sama) on the line. The intermittent shots of Sama smiling and playing remind us of what is at stake, which is, as António Guterres put it, “the survival and well-being of a generation of innocents. Even long after the documentary ends, the wailing of the father who refuses to stop administering CPR to his dead daughter continues to echo in your ears. He and his wife had decided to flee the besieged Aleppo for the sake of their daughter, but a bomb had killed her while they tried to escape. Hundreds of children, like his daughter, never made it out of Aleppo. We are left wondering, even if these children do make it out alive, what about the deep-seated trauma that the war has inflicted upon them? Whether it is babies who do not react to deafening explosions around them or children who can differentiate between cluster and container bombs, we repeatedly witness a maturity beyond their ages that has been forced upon them by their circumstances. Who will answer for these stolen childhoods?
You Only Leave When the Home Won’t Let You Stay
Formidable courage and resistance were shown by Waad, Hamza, and their colleagues in the face of unimaginable brutality and escalating violence surrounding them. They fought on even as they lost their loved ones to the Russian air raids and bombings. Waad’s footages and Hamza’s medical services were a resistance without guns by ordinary citizens. It becomes even more exceptional considering that they were parents. As the regime forces stood only streets away from the last rebel stronghold, Hamza advises Waad to abandon Sama; “she has a better chance of surviving if they do not know we are her parents”. And, it is at this point that we comprehend the extent of the risk they have taken. However, in the end, their only chance at survival is accepting the order of exile from the city they cherished and fought for, forced upon them by the Regime. It meant everything they sacrificed was for nothing. Inconsolable Afra and the tears of Waad and Hamza show you what this decision meant; “Saying goodbye was worse than death”.
Watching For Sama is essential to understand the violence and suffering the refugees who are knocking on our doors seeking asylum have endured so far and escaped. Although the film is about the Syrian Civil War, it also depicts Syrian refugees in the making. Watching For Sama gives context to the unseen maturity we see in those war-hardened children seeking asylum in Hernán Zin’s NacidoEn Syria. It is extremely saddening to know that their suffering does not end once they leave the conflict zone; what awaits them in the outside world is a tedious, cold-hearted, and at times cruel asylum-seeking process.
Showing the vast expanse of ruins that is now Aleppo, at the beginning of the film, Waad states, “We never thought the world would let this happen”, sitting thousands of miles away separated by time, distance and the privileges of stability and security of our nations, the guilt that this statement invokes in one is beyond description. How did we let this happen? And yet, how we continue to fail them!
Anusree P is a sociology postgraduate from Pondicherry University. Her areas of interest include internal displacement, forced migration, refugees and their governance. Twitter: https://twitter.com/anusreepp2