“The first visit is going to be very private, just trying to do it for myself.” When someone said this to The National in January, she was preparing for a journey unlike any she had taken before. A journey not across open waters in Olympic, like the one that had made her a refugee hero, but back to the ruins of a life she had left behind a decade ago.
Her destination? Dara’a, a province in Damascus, has been a battleground in the Syrian civil war. A place where homes have been reduced to dust, where streets hold echoes of lost lives. And among those ruins stood what was once her home—a place she knew she would find in pieces, if at all. But why return? Why step into a past that no longer exists?
It wasn’t about reconnecting with Yusra Mardini’s swimming career. It wasn’t about reliving the past. Yusra’s hope was simple, yet heartbreaking: “I’m hoping that I walk around my building and find some pictures of myself or something.” A fragment, a relic—anything that could remind her that she once had a life there. But there was something else, something that still stood. The pool. The same waters she trained in as a young girl before the war tore her world apart. “I’m going back to the pool as well. It still stands,” she had said, her eyes lighting up at the thought. But did she find her home? Did she find those lost pieces of herself?
The former Olympic swimmer’s heart shatters, watching the pieces
She had braced herself for this moment. For ten years, Yusra Mardini had imagined returning to her childhood home in Dara’a, Syria. But nothing—not even the strength she built as a two-time Olympic swimmer—could have prepared her for what she found. On March 14, she shared a deeply emotional post on Instagram, standing amid the rubble that was once her home. Her voice trembled as she spoke, her tears carving silent paths down her face.
“I’m home… but my home doesn’t stand.” The video showed her walking through the wreckage, pointing at the remnants of walls that used to hold her memories. Her building was gone. Not just damaged—erased. The echoes of laughter, framed photos, and shades of childhood were all buried under lifeless stones and twisted metal. She had hoped to find pieces of her past, something—anything—to hold onto. But war does not return what it takes.
Yusra, who once glided effortlessly through the waters of the 100m freestyle and butterfly events, now found herself drowning in grief. As a UN Goodwill Ambassador, she had seen devastation before, but nothing could compare to standing on the ruins of her own history. The blue sky above was clear, unlike the dark, smoke-filled one she had left behind a decade ago when she and her sister Sarah fled. But the brightness of the sky only made the destruction below more unbearable. As Yusra sat among the ruins, her body shook with sobs. She had won races on the world’s grandest stage, but this—this was a battle she couldn’t fight. Because no one can race against time. And no one can out-swim war. Unfortunately, the war had devoured her home. And hers was not the only one.
The severe effects of war didn’t leave the Olympian
“When I left my country, I thought the war would stop after two months, three months…” Rami Anis told the Olympic Channel in 2019. He had no idea that his departure from Syria would stretch into an exile lasting more than a decade. Before the war, life in Aleppo was filled with chlorine-scented mornings and the rhythmic splashes of his training pool. He was a rising star, representing Syria in the 2009 and 2011 World Championships. But then, war swallowed his home, his city, and his dreams. The pool where he first learned to swim at 14? Gone. The teammates he once trained with? Scattered. There were more signs.
Months turned into years, and Rami remained adrift, far from the waters that shaped him. He could no longer swim for Syria—because Syria, as he knew it, no longer existed. So, when the opportunity came to compete in the 2016 Rio Olympics, he took it—not under the flag he had once proudly carried, but as part of the Refugee Olympic Team. And that feeling? It wasn’t the victory he had imagined.
“It’s very hard to represent another team, another country. It was hard for me to take another flag.” The weight of those words was heavier than any Olympic moment. Rami Anis had spent his life training to represent his nation, and now, he swam for one that did not exist on any map. Well, after Rio, he pushed for another shot—Tokyo 2020. But luck was not on his side. The Olympics slipped away once more. Still, Rami Anis remains a swimmer, even if his pool is lost. A competitor, even if his team is gone. A champion, even without a country to call home. Because some races are fought outside the pool, and Rami is still swimming against the tide of fate.
The post Olympic Swimmer Bursts in Tears as She Showcases Last Remains of Her Possessions After War appeared first on EssentiallySports.
