Syrians struggle with soaring prices as crisis challenges post-Assad recovery

Many Syrians say their economic situation has worsened in the last two years amid a cost-of-living crisis Last month, protests erupted in squares and streets across Syria. People burned tyres, blocked roads and chanted slogans, angry at the government's decision to raise fuel prices again. It was the largest show of discontent yet since President Ahmed al-Sharaa came to power two years ago. Speaking on a Syrian TV channel, a man said he still supported the authorities but that his situation had deteriorated to the point where he could no longer afford to buy bread. "Honestly," another said, "we have begun to fear what kind of new decision each morning will bring". The increase was the latest in a series of measures people blame for a growing cost-of-living crisis. For many Syrians, life, financially, has worsened since rebels led -Assad, ending five decades of his family's brutal rule and more than 13 years of a devastating civil war. Catapulted to the presidency, Sharaa has, since then, led Syria's transition and efforts to revive a broken economy after a long period of mismanagement, isolation and conflict. There was never any doubt about how challenging this would be. But as they celebrated Assad's overthrow and their new freedoms, Syrians, perhaps unrealistically, hoped things would quickly improve. That, however, has not materialised, and the handling of the economy has frustrated many here. From essential bills to basic items, the cost of virtually everything has gone up. And many saw a further and unexpected rise in fuel prices as a sign of a government out of touch with its country. "We don't want roundabouts. Every day they build a new roundabout. People stood ," another protester said, addressing Sharaa, "but this will [make] things explode". Days later, amid calls for further demonstrations, the increase was revoked. "We eat more sparingly now. We no longer buy chicken once a week," Fatima Saleh Eid says In a suburb of Damascus, I joined Fatima Saleh Eid at an open-air market for her weekly shop. At 50, she works as a cleaner to help support her family. "We've suffered a lot," she said. Her husband had recently been hired by a ceramic factory after a year unemployed. He is among the lucky ones, as many are struggling to find work. In some streets, men gather in the hope of meeting someone offering a day job; often, they wait in vain. Since coming to power, the government has slashed long-held subsidies as part of an austerity drive.