He recalls how he ran to his brother's house to find him and his family dead. The people he saw foaming at the mouth and nose. How he told his wife to take the twins to safety outside. How people started running out of their homes and onto the street, trying to help each other. It is a story he has told dozens of times, about how Khan Sheikhoun residents woke up at half-past six in the morning to the sound of explosions. It marked the first western airstrikes on targets of Assad's government since the start of the conflict in March 2011.įrom his tent in the displaced settlement near the Turkish border called "Mokhayyam al-Karamah," Arabic for "Dignity Camp," near the town of Atmeh, al-Yousef recalls that fateful day when he lost his twins, Aya and Ahmed, his wife Dalal and 16 other relatives. Tomahawk missiles at the Shayrat Air Base in central Syria, saying the attack on Khan Sheikhoun was launched from the base. Nearly 90 people were killed in the attack, one of the deadliest in years.ĭays later, the U.S. The attack in opposition-held Khan Sheikhoun in the early morning of Apleft residents gasping for breath and convulsing in the streets and overcrowded hospitals. "The biggest fear now, after ré gime forces and the Russians and allied militiamen took over Khan Sheikhoun is that they will tamper with the evidence with regards to the chemical weapons attack and distort the facts," he said.
Most of all, al-Yousef fears the takeover by Bashar Assad's forces of Khan Sheikhoun means that any leftover evidence from the April 2017 toxic gas attack will now be erased forever.
I used to find some relief by visiting them twice a week at the grave," he said. "I buried the most important thing I have in my life there, my children and my siblings. He now lives among thousands of other internally displaced Syrians in a settlement near the Turkish border, worried he will never be able to go back to the hometown he left behind.