Dia Hadid

And in December, 11 years after they disappeared, he saw the social media buzz about children hidden in orphanages. And he began hoping just maybe his children were alive. Maybe they'd been hidden in an orphanage. Maybe this orphanage. Al-Baba says she's sure his children weren't placed here, but just in case, she asks for his wife's name.

The children typically came listed under their mother's names. Al-Baba shakes her head sadly. Not here, sir. I wish they were. I would have given them to you. But she tells him, you mustn't give up hope, sir.

The children typically came listed under their mother's names. Al-Baba shakes her head sadly. Not here, sir. I wish they were. I would have given them to you. But she tells him, you mustn't give up hope, sir.

The children typically came listed under their mother's names. Al-Baba shakes her head sadly. Not here, sir. I wish they were. I would have given them to you. But she tells him, you mustn't give up hope, sir.

We took Hani al-Faraz details and we met him a few days later in his tiny apartment in a working class suburb of Damascus. It's up a few flights of narrow stairs. And al-Faraz holding his youngest son from his second marriage.

We took Hani al-Faraz details and we met him a few days later in his tiny apartment in a working class suburb of Damascus. It's up a few flights of narrow stairs. And al-Faraz holding his youngest son from his second marriage.

We took Hani al-Faraz details and we met him a few days later in his tiny apartment in a working class suburb of Damascus. It's up a few flights of narrow stairs. And al-Faraz holding his youngest son from his second marriage.

We sit in a room that feels like a cubbyhole. During the years that he tried to find his wife and children, he angered the Assad regime soldiers who manned the checkpoint in his area. They detained him and ultimately shifted him to a lock-up where he was tortured for hours, every day, for three months. He says he was strung up from a ceiling, beaten and starved.

We sit in a room that feels like a cubbyhole. During the years that he tried to find his wife and children, he angered the Assad regime soldiers who manned the checkpoint in his area. They detained him and ultimately shifted him to a lock-up where he was tortured for hours, every day, for three months. He says he was strung up from a ceiling, beaten and starved.

We sit in a room that feels like a cubbyhole. During the years that he tried to find his wife and children, he angered the Assad regime soldiers who manned the checkpoint in his area. They detained him and ultimately shifted him to a lock-up where he was tortured for hours, every day, for three months. He says he was strung up from a ceiling, beaten and starved.

After that, he began to hope that his wife and children were dead, rather than experience the depravities of detention under the Assad regime. And that includes well-documented cases of rape of women, men and children. Al-Fara says his friends urged him to move on, marry a good woman, make a new family. One of his friends set him up with his sister, and they fell in love.

After that, he began to hope that his wife and children were dead, rather than experience the depravities of detention under the Assad regime. And that includes well-documented cases of rape of women, men and children. Al-Fara says his friends urged him to move on, marry a good woman, make a new family. One of his friends set him up with his sister, and they fell in love.

After that, he began to hope that his wife and children were dead, rather than experience the depravities of detention under the Assad regime. And that includes well-documented cases of rape of women, men and children. Al-Fara says his friends urged him to move on, marry a good woman, make a new family. One of his friends set him up with his sister, and they fell in love.

He calls her his everything. His mother, his father, his friend. He now has three sons with his new wife. The youngest is baby Mohamed, about a year old. He squirms on Al-Fara's lap and toddles off to examine a drainpipe.

He calls her his everything. His mother, his father, his friend. He now has three sons with his new wife. The youngest is baby Mohamed, about a year old. He squirms on Al-Fara's lap and toddles off to examine a drainpipe.

He calls her his everything. His mother, his father, his friend. He now has three sons with his new wife. The youngest is baby Mohamed, about a year old. He squirms on Al-Fara's lap and toddles off to examine a drainpipe.

But even as he cuddles his youngest son, the hope of finding his older children and first wife won't leave him. He says he even asks his current wife, what will you do if I find my first wife? He tells us, my new wife lost her brother during the war and she understands the pain I'm feeling. And she told me, if you find your first wife, I'll put her in this eye before that eye.

But even as he cuddles his youngest son, the hope of finding his older children and first wife won't leave him. He says he even asks his current wife, what will you do if I find my first wife? He tells us, my new wife lost her brother during the war and she understands the pain I'm feeling. And she told me, if you find your first wife, I'll put her in this eye before that eye.

But even as he cuddles his youngest son, the hope of finding his older children and first wife won't leave him. He says he even asks his current wife, what will you do if I find my first wife? He tells us, my new wife lost her brother during the war and she understands the pain I'm feeling. And she told me, if you find your first wife, I'll put her in this eye before that eye.

It's an Arab saying that means I'll honour her. And his sons, especially the oldest, know that something isn't right. His oldest son is eight now. He's aware of the world around him. He keeps asking about his older half-siblings, particularly his sister, Islam. She was five when she disappeared. In a photo Al-Farah keeps on his phone, she's sitting in a garden.