As we were on our way, the three journalists, among the rubble of buildings in the city of Douma, Damascus, realized what was missing. We saw women carrying supplies, elderly men riding on motorbikes, and children carrying water jars to their homes. But where are the young men? They died in the war, were in prison, or fled outside Syria's borders. Um Khalil, 59, one of the survivors of this war, can tell us where these young people disappeared.

Three of her sons were killed, another died under torture in opposition prisons, and the fifth disappeared in government prisons. Her daughter-in-law had to work to earn a living, while she was supporting five grandchildren despite the absence of her husband, who died as a result of an air strike. "Sometimes I think when I am sitting, how did this happen?" Said Umm Khalil, in a relative's apartment. I had children working and everything was normal. Suddenly all this happened, and everything was lost. And I have no answer to that. God forgives the culprit. But I wish I knew who destroyed this city to kill him. ''

After eight years of civil war in Syria, the Syrian government is in control of most of the country and is on the verge of controlling Idlib, the last stronghold of the opposition. President Bashar al-Assad's victory in this war is no longer in doubt. But the important issue now focuses on the living situation of those who have survived.

Contradictions

When we visited five cities and villages under government control in eight days last June, we saw many contradictions. There are rubble and modern buildings, and those living in bitter grief, as well as others living their lives to the buzz. Suffering has spread disproportionately to the people, concentrating on the poor and areas controlled by the opposition, and even rebuilding was uneven.

In the city of Douma, which was controlled by the opposition throughout the war, drinking water has become an ambitious reality. In Latakia on the Mediterranean, women were crying for their children. Two years after the restoration of the city of Aleppo, old factories and markets are re-emerging, but electricity is still in poor condition. In fact, it is not the infrastructure that needs to be rebuilt, but the Syria we have seen lacks the middle class, where most of its members have fled or become poor. Daily.

Although some of the fugitives return home, they are forced to join military service or detained for security reasons. There are still people fleeing the country, but very few now.

Wherever we went, the images of President Assad were everywhere, with the words "Assad forever." Some posters included Assad, surrounded by his allies, Russian President Vladimir Putin and Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah. The Syrian authorities prevented journalists and media from approaching any place they considered important. It took us three years, the correspondent and I live in Beirut, the Lebanese translator, and the American photographer Meredith Cot, about half a year to get a visa to Syria. But that doesn't mean we can walk around the country as we want. We felt we were being watched by the powerful Syrian intelligence in most of our movements, especially if we talked to people.

Sad stories

Our companions were very careful to prove to us that life had returned to normal. This was evident in Damascus, which was not badly damaged. But two minutes after we left Damascus for Douma, we began to see the scenes of destruction, piles of dust and destroyed houses, which lasted for long miles, as a result of the shelling of artillery and aircraft.

In Douma, almost a year after the liberation of the city, most of the city is still uninhabitable, although few people return to the city to live among the rubble. One of the children playing between the rubble led us to his grandparents Ali Hammoud Tahmi and his wife (Umm Faris). The two grandparents returned to their apartment in May and found it looted and destroyed. By the time the grandparents returned, 20 members of the family had died, so the grandparents were supporting 11 orphaned grandchildren in an abandoned building. "We avoid seeing the small number of neighbors," said the grandmother (Umm Faris).

The honor of sacrifice

The number of government informants doubled when we headed to Latakia, which is teeming with the Alawite population of President Assad's sect. In the town of Beit Yashout we saw many pictures of martyrs. We were accompanied by a group of people, including a military general, as we moved from house to house, and asked a father who lost his son in the war, if it was worth the sacrifice of his son. Who shook his head in agreement with what he says. "It's an honor for us to sacrifice," said one mother, who told us how she was sitting with her son, singing and drinking coffee. "He was defending the country." Many non-Alawites say that President Assad's members are generously rewarded for their loyalty, but in reality they can barely find a living, talking about their inability to bring milk to their children, as well as crazy food prices.

The governor of Latakia, Ibrahim Khater al-Salem, was anxious to emphasize that the government devotes a lot of resources to the families of the soldiers, a priority for the government. He added «Mr. President personally puts on top of the priority issue of the families of martyrs».

Busy day and night without light

Before Syria's civil war, Aleppo was the biggest rival of Damascus. It is the largest city in the country and its economic engine, while its people do not sleep, Rana said. But the siege of Syrian government forces shattered the 14-year-old market, while electricity was cut off in most of the city. Two and a half years after the city was liberated from the opposition, most of the electricity from the generators remains. Without government funding, refinancing will be focused on the people themselves who are in poverty.

Private hospitals have started operating again, probably because public hospitals that have been bombed by aviation are still destroyed. But during the day the streets are crowded with watermelon sellers and traffic. We met a woman in a salon, telling us that she was able to cut her hair in a professional salon for the first time since the war began, and the schools were reopened. We saw a painting hanging on a wall reading "Security is back," but security is an elusive concept for Umm Ahmed, 28, who was sitting at home with her sister. The couple's women were missing. They say that government forces arrested them after they entered eastern Aleppo in 2015. But our escort (Rana) told Um Ahmed that the situation is more complicated than you think, and you should not talk about such topics to journalists. Ahmed): «Do we lie to them? This is what happened », and then (Rana) approached (Umm Ahmed) and took her to the kitchen, and then returned and was (Umm Ahmed) quiet.

Later, I complained to the Minister of Information about the large number of escorts. He told me: "We are not like the Americans. We are different from them. Everyone assumes that you are spies." When it was time to leave Syria, military intelligence accompanied us to the Lebanese border. We had to stop four times on the road, because our car was down, and it seemed that the car needed radical maintenance.

After 8 years of war

What does victory look like? At least half a million people have been killed as a result of this war, some 11 million have fled their homes, entire cities have become rubble, ghost-inhabited, and few people still have access to shopping malls, while the majority live in extreme poverty. Most of the people we met were discreet about what they say, and their livelihoods concern them for anything else. At dinner time on our first night in Aleppo, our driver (Abu Abdo) said he knew a few places to eat near our hotel when he worked before the war to transport tourists to the city. The first restaurant to remember his place was destroyed, as was the second. After that, we arrived at a restaurant where our driver came down and told the owner that he knew him and that he served the best food.

The restaurant was empty except from the cook who stood in the corner. The table cover was dirty and the frescoes of Aleppo, while flies spread inside the restaurant, the only thing that seemed new in this restaurant was the amounts of cucumbers, tomatoes, radishes and mint he gave us. When Abu Abdo ordered an ice drink, the owner of the restaurant apologized, saying the generator was not working, so there was no ice. The translator told us that we will eat meat today. Initially vegetables were served, then chickpeas, marinated, smoked eggplant, and then dishes of grilled chicken and lamb kebab. I started eating and forgot about the fridge. I had eaten such dishes several times in Lebanon, now in Syria, and they were the best. When we left the street was empty and dark. It was still early, but for many years the people of Aleppo could not stay up all night.

Vivienne Wei is a New York Times reporter based in Beirut

What does Assad's victory look like? At least half a million people have been killed as a result of this war, some 11 million have fled their homes, and entire cities have become rubble, ghostly inhabited, most of them living in extreme poverty.

When visiting five cities and villages under government control, in eight days last June, we saw many contradictions. There are rubble, modern buildings, people in bitter grief, and others living their buzz.

Though almost a year has passed since the liberation of Douma, most of the city remains uninhabitable, though few people return to the city to live among the rubble.