Syrian Families Provide Home and Future for Abandoned Children

The Problem of Abandoned Children in Syria

Cases of children being left behind in Syria are not uncommon. The number of infants being left on mosque steps, in hospitals, or on the streets is growing due to reasons related to poverty and religion; some of them are so young that their bodies are still covered in lubricant.

The child in the photograph is one of 200 placed in foster families by Sweden and his team of social workers from Child Houses since 2021, when the organization operated from an emergency shelter in Idlib.

Transition to the State Complex

At the time, the northwestern province of Idlib was under the control of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), led by Ahmed al-Sharaa, now President of Syria. After the unification of Syria, all abandoned children were transferred to the state complex Lann al-Hayat, using the Child Houses model and guided by the organization's team. Another 100 infants have been placed in foster families since the unification.

Conditions in the Orphanage

In the rural part of Damascus, two inconspicuous iron gates mark the entrance to one of the most famous Syrian orphanages. Lann al-Hayat, built by Bashar al-Assad, President of Syria, between 2000 and 2024, was once an important part of Syria's security system, used for the disappearance of detained children. Despite its recent history, a palpable light of hope emanates from the caregivers—known as 'mothers'—who look after 50 bundled infants of unknown origin at the center.

Hawla, a Syrian foster mother, shared: 'There were many children who had lost their fathers and mothers. I thought maybe we could take care of a child.'

The complex inside the gates consists of identical blocks painted in a muted yellow, with a basketball court on the right. In the background rises a large unfinished building, originally intended for the residence of adults raised in the orphanage. Assad's ideological aspirations for this orphanage collapsed with the regime, and the building remains abandoned and unfinished, a reminder of what could have been.

Changes in Institutional Management

Faisal al-Hammoud, Executive Director of Child Houses, believes the institution has changed since Assad's fall. He told Middle East Eye: 'Before the liberation, the management of Lann al-Hayat used children as commodities in business,' but now 'they are treated as children.'

Mutasem al-Salloumi, who previously worked in child protection in Idlib province, took over the management of Lann al-Hayat in 2025. Since then, he has overseen efforts to implement clear procedures to ensure child protection, as well as implementing digitization and documentation steps. These obligations include considering alternative family-based care, which places children in families after thorough assessment and vetting.

Legal Aspects of Adoption

Legally, adoption in the Western sense—where a child takes the family name and gains inheritance and lineage rights—is illegal in most Arab countries, including Syria. This is due to Sharia law, which places great emphasis on preserving a child's lineage.

Child Houses began cooperating with the Idlib government in 2021 to develop a care system compliant with Sharia and Kafala, an Islamic alternative to long-term patronage or guardianship. Under the system developed in Idlib, children cannot take their foster family's surname and do not have inheritance rights. If the biological parents of the child make a claim at any time, the foster family must comply, provided it serves the best interests of the child.

Audrey Bingham, Partnerships and Development Manager at Child Houses, told Middle East Eye: 'We had to act cautiously, listening to communities and building trust step by step.'

A formal decision on patronage has not yet been made as the first parliamentary session has not taken place, but changes are already happening. At Lann al-Hayat, Child Houses has developed procedures for placing children in foster families, based on the model it has created over many years. Al-Salloumi told MEE: 'No center can replace the love of a family. They will always receive the best, normal life with a father, a mother, a family.'

Nevertheless, he is careful not to downplay the care provided at Lann al-Hayat to those who are not suitable for patronage. In the orphanage, children live in apartment units organized by age and attend public schools during school hours. During the MEE visit, they observed groups of children sharing living space under the supervision of dedicated permanent caregivers, 'mothers.'

Social Stigmatization of Children

Religion is closely intertwined with social life in Syria, where children of unknown origin have always faced significant stigmatization. Historically, one of the main reasons for abandoning infants was premarital pregnancy; in some cases, these pregnancies are voluntary, while in others, they are the result of rape. Regardless of the circumstances, this stigma often accompanies the child throughout life—another argument for early integration into a family environment.

Before a child can be classified as 'of unknown origin,' social workers spend three months trying to find their biological family. Although relatives are sometimes found, this does not always lead to reunification. Al-Salloumi told MEE that in cases involving children born out of wedlock, social workers usually do not seek reunification. He noted that parents who abandon children in such circumstances often do so due to shame and the stigma associated with it.

Until recently, children of unknown parents were administratively registered using an Arabic term that translates to 'impious.' One of the first reforms initiated by Child Houses was replacing this term with a numerical coding system. The official language has advanced, but stereotypes are harder to eradicate. Bingham points out that many foster mothers featured on Child Houses' Instagram account prefer to hide their identity in videos, often out of fear of judgment.

The consequences of the 14-year war, exacerbated by the devastating earthquake of 2023, have sparked a broader conversation about the needs of vulnerable children in Syria. While the country struggled with mass displacement, losses, and economic hardship, attitudes towards caring for the needy have begun to change. Bingham noted: 'The war has created an unprecedented number of vulnerable children, including orphans, separated from families, displaced, or deprived of proper care.' She added: 'It has also highlighted the limitations of relying predominantly on institutional care and underscored the need for alternative solutions.'

Growth of the Patronage Movement

The conflict left thousands of children without proper care, while many Syrians who could not have their own children sought ways to expand their families. In this gap, Child Houses began advocating for patronage as an alternative to institutional care. In Syria, patronage, according to the Child Houses protocol, started as a grassroots movement. When the organization received its first abandoned infant in 2021, there was no established structure for family care, but over time, families began to take the initiative.

MEE visited one such family a few days after the third birthday of Ahmad, a young boy. The living room was still decorated with balloons and photos in handmade frames. Ahmad's foster mother, Hawla, first considered patronage after seeing coverage of the earthquake on social media. She said: 'There were many children who had lost their fathers and mothers. I thought maybe we could take care of a child.'

After discussions with the extended family and consultation with a local imam, Hawla and her husband Abdulhalek began the process. In December 2024, after 13 years of trying to conceive, Ahmad joined their family. Soon after, Hawla's sister breastfed him, establishing a kinship recognized in Islamic tradition. Hawla speaks openly about the relief that followed his arrival. For years, she endured the stigma associated with infertility. She recounted how women in the community hid their children from her approach and refused to let her hold them. Ahmad restored her confidence and gave her the opportunity to face the world.

Both parents say they are not interested in the child's past. What matters to them is the future. His grandmother admits that people still talk. 'They are not afraid of God, they are just gossiping,' she said. Ahmad's father added: 'If they offend him even by one word, I will destroy the world.'

This willingness to confront social stigmatization, driven by a huge desire to have children, helps change attitudes towards the patronage of children of unknown origin. Parents Nesme and Farah tell a similar story. After long discussions with relatives and religious leaders, they adopted Farah in 2024, and their second foster daughter, Nesma, in 2025. Ilaa, the foster mother, recalls people asking if she knew the child's origin or who his parents were. Others hinted that the children might be the result of an extramarital affair, as if this made them less worthy of love. The couple remained defiant: what mattered was that the children were loved and safe. Over time, attitudes softened. People who previously criticized watched the children grow up in a normal family setting. Some even began engaging in patronage themselves. Ilaa said: 'People followed our example.'

Bingham notes: 'Every family that accepted a child influenced not only its own life but also its wider family and community. Grandmothers, aunts, uncles, neighbors, and friends saw these children growing up in loving homes and began to understand that it was possible.'

This domino effect is reflected in the bank of approved foster families awaiting children from Lann al-Hayat, which mainly consists of couples from Idlib. Although Idlib is one of the more conservative provinces in Syria, it is where Child Houses began its work, and where its work is best known.

The Future of Syrian Children

The question remains: what next? After children are placed in families, Child Houses conducts regular assessments and home visits. Foster parents communicate in a WhatsApp group where they exchange advice, mark milestones, and discuss the practical realities of raising foster children. One question constantly arises in conversations and in the group: when and how should children be told about their history?

As the first generation of children raised using the Child Houses approach reaches school age, the organization is developing new forms of guidance and psychosocial support to help families navigate what is largely uncharted territory. For decades, children of unknown origin were housed in institutions and defined by the circumstances of their birth. Families who are now opening their homes to these children are rewriting that history.