(Illustration by Jaimee Haddad)
It was 9:30 p.m. on Saturday, March 8, in Akrama, an Alawite neighborhood in the south of Homs, when a message interrupted the conversation between Mohammad* and his friend Ali*. In between puffs of cigarettes, they vigorously tapped on their phone. Latifa*, Mohammad's mother, also receives a call."They are telling people on Hadara Street to stay inside," she said, panicked. The Alawite family's anxiety began to rise. Information bursts in, clarifies, and then distorts: "People from Bab Amr are asking Alawites on Hadara Street to lock themselves in," Mohammad corrected.30 minutes later, they discovered it is just one of the countless rumors poisoning Syrian social networks, a gelatinous substance sometimes covering slivers of real facts."This is what our life looks like now," sighed Mohammad, who, at...
It was 9:30 p.m. on Saturday, March 8, in Akrama, an Alawite neighborhood in the south of Homs, when a message interrupted the conversation between Mohammad* and his friend Ali*. In between puffs of cigarettes, they vigorously tapped on their phone. Latifa*, Mohammad's mother, also receives a call."They are telling people on Hadara Street to stay inside," she said, panicked. The Alawite family's anxiety began to rise. Information bursts in, clarifies, and then distorts: "People from Bab Amr are asking Alawites on Hadara Street to lock themselves in," Mohammad corrected.30 minutes later, they discovered it is just one of the countless rumors poisoning Syrian social networks, a gelatinous substance sometimes covering slivers of real facts."This is what our life looks like now," sighed Mohammad, who,...