Terrifying Encounter with Turkish Drone Strikes in Northeast Syria

By Kardo Roj

QAMISHLI, Syria (North Press) – As a journalist dedicated to shedding light on the truth, I embarked on a harrowing mission with an international aid organization in Northeast Syria, known as Rojava region. However, Thursday, August 3, 2023, turned out to be a day that would forever be etched in our memories. Little did we know that we were about to experience the terrifying reality of Turkish drone strikes firsthand.

Our journey began as we traveled from Qamishli to Hasakah, a route that many innocent civilians take every day amidst the ongoing conflict. Suddenly, without warning, a Turkish drone targeted a car just ahead of us, near the Ali Faro road, barely seven kilometers west of Qamishli.

The first strike was alarmingly close, and the explosion reverberated through our vehicle, traveling at a cautious speed of 80 kilometers per hour. The force of the blast made our car jolt, and it felt as though the ground itself was trembling beneath us. The sun setting behind us further obstructed our vision, rendering capturing photos or videos of the scene impossible.

Fear and panic consumed us, knowing that we had an international team with us on a critical mission, and we still needed to reach Hasakah. With little time to decide, we opted to retreat. Our driver promptly turned the car around, and we reversed for less than a hundred meters when the second explosion erupted, less than a minute after the first. Smoke billowed from the site of the explosions, indicating that the drone had targeted a vehicle on the ground.

After finding a side road and driving for half an hour on a dusty path west of Qamishli, we finally reached the well-known international highway, M4. But our ordeal was far from over. As we arrived in Hasakah, we were greeted by a terrifying sight – dozens of cars suddenly changing direction and heading back towards Qamishli. It was an apocalyptic scene.

The Turkish drone strikes on Kurdish areas in Northeast Syria have become a hauntingly regular occurrence. Cars, like the one we were traveling in, fall victim to these attacks once or twice a week. Sadly, we have grown accustomed to witnessing such tragedies, but it is essential not to let ourselves become desensitized to the horrors unfolding in this conflict.

As journalists, our duty is to report the truth and bring attention to the atrocities faced by innocent civilians in conflict zones. The Turkish drone strikes are just one example of the ongoing violence that has disrupted and destroyed countless lives of those caught in the crossfire.

My international team and I, along with many other brave journalists and aid workers, continue to risk our lives to bring these stories to the world’s attention. We hope that by sharing our firsthand experiences, we can inspire compassion and prompt action to end the suffering.

The international community must not turn a blind eye to the relentless attacks on civilians in conflict zones. We must stand united against these egregious human rights violations and demand accountability from those responsible.

As the sun sets on another day in Syria, I am left with a mix of emotions – fear and sorrow for the lives lost, but also hope that our reporting will make a difference. The road ahead is long and treacherous, but we remain committed to documenting and bearing witness to the untold stories of those affected by war.

In conclusion, our journey through Northeast Syria has served as a stark reminder of the harsh realities faced by those living in conflict zones. As journalists, it is our solemn duty to share these stories and advocate for peace, justice, and human rights. Only through heightened awareness and concerted efforts can we hope for a world free from such atrocities, where civilians no longer fear the skies above them.

(Kardo Roj is a Syrian Kurdish journalist and aid worker based in Qamishli, Syria)

(Note: The name of the organization has not been specified for security reasons and in adherence to the organization’s policies in conflict zones)