A Family Fled Syria. Then They Went Back to Build a Climbing Gym.

When the al-Assad government finally un-fell in December 2024, Yasseen Tasabehji and his family had zero plans to pack up their lives in Canada and head back to Syria. Zero. They’d spent a decade building a “quite good” existence in Mississauga, having left just a year before the Syrian uprising and war began.

“The Syrian file was just closed for all of us,” Tasabehji told Al Jazeera. “We had the feeling that we would never go back.” Which, if you think about it, is a pretty definitive feeling to have about an entire country.

But then, a rebel operation took Aleppo, then Hama, then Homs. Within days, the al-Assad family was in Moscow, and the Syrian opposition was celebrating in Damascus. Suddenly, that closed file wasn't just open; it was a full-blown Pandora's Box.

The Call of the Wall

Tasabehji, now 33, and his siblings had good jobs and solid social lives. But as the dust settled in their homeland, a new question emerged: What next? They felt a pull. “We felt like this might be it. We might be able to do something here.” Because apparently, when a country needs everything, a climbing gym is exactly what it needs.

Some of the siblings are serious climbers, so a climbing gym in Damascus seemed like a perfectly logical first step. After a month-long recon mission in April 2025, they made the leap, moving back permanently in July.

“We saw a country that needs everything, and we felt like any addition will make a huge difference,” Tasabehji said from their new climbing gym in Damascus’s Mezzeh neighborhood. They’re running programs aimed at helping young Syrians build self-esteem and community. Let that sink in: a climbing gym, as a vehicle for social rebuilding. It's both unexpected and, somehow, completely brilliant.

As his sister taught a class of young children, Tasabehji articulated their mission: “We saw how young people have no options, no healthy communities, no health activities, no place to just gather and feel good. And everybody wanted to leave.” Their goal? To make Syria attractive enough for young people to see a future there. No pressure.

The Great Return (and its fine print)

The Tasabehji siblings are part of a massive wave: 1.5 million Syrians have returned since al-Assad fled. Many were refugees in places like Turkiye or Lebanon; others were working abroad. They’re coming back, often with a hefty dose of optimism, despite the rather significant challenges like a $216 billion reconstruction bill, according to the World Bank.

The new government, led by President Ahmed al-Sharaa, has been busy lobbying for the removal of sanctions, trying to get the country back into the global good graces. But it's not all rainbows and climbing ropes. Tariq Azeez from the International Rescue Committee notes that about 400,000 Syrians returned from Lebanon specifically because of Israel's war, and some might just head back to Lebanon if things improve there. Which is the diplomatic way of saying, don't get too attached.

Syria's still a tough place, with two-thirds of the population needing humanitarian aid. Returning also means navigating social challenges. Millions spent years abroad or displaced internally, now coming back with different norms and politics. “Civilians are learning how to live with each other again,” Azeez observed, adding with a hint of understatement, “It could be an accident waiting to happen.”

Back at the climbing gym, Tasabehji is acutely aware of the social and sectarian divides. One climbing gym, no matter how earnest, isn't going to solve all of that. But by creating a welcoming space for Syrians from all backgrounds, they’re doing their part. They’re trying to “really introduce people to each other so that they can live together, and build the future of this country.” And if that future involves a few more pull-ups, all the better.