Kibbeh and courage: How a Syrian family is catering for an uncertain future in the US

For Rami Al Ghazzi and his wife Shaza Sakbani, cooking provides an income and a connection to the homeland they left in 2013. Twelve years on, their asylum application remains pending...

The scent of sizzling kibbeh fills a bright classroom at George Washington University as students lean in to watch Rami Al Ghazzi deep-fry the croquettes filled with cooked ground meat, sauteed onions and toasted pine nuts. His wife, Shaza Sakbani, stirs a pot of lentil soup beside him. Their daughter, Maria, 7, helps with folding dough and seasoning fillings.

The family, originally from Damascus, has travelled from Chantilly, Virginia, to lead an interactive cooking demonstration on Syrian cuisine. For them, it is more than a lesson in food; it is a way of sharing a past they can no longer return to.

A decade earlier, none of them imagined they would be living in the US, building a life through food. Their journey began with what they thought would be a brief visit to the country in 2013.

“We were residing in Saudi Arabia. We were planning to go and live in Syria back in 2010 but unfortunately, everything changed. We received threats and decided to leave for a while and take a vacation," Mr Al Ghazzi tells The National.

"Here in the US, unfortunately we got stuck, and I think maybe also fortunately, we got stuck here."

Kibbeh and lentil soup prepared by the Ghazzi family during a demonstration of Syrian cuisine at George Washington University

Life in limbo for 12 years

The family’s asylum application, filed in September 2013, is still pending.

Mr Al Ghazzi used to help activists protesting against former Syrian president Bashar Al Assad’s regime, teaching them how to safely upload and share information while evading the security forces’ surveillance.

“Since I was staying outside Syria I was telling them I could come and help on the ground,” the father of three said. “They just told me, ‘Stay there. You’re more helpful outside than inside.’”

Soon, he learnt that security forces had visited his family home in Syria, indicating that returning could be fatal. Then tragedy struck: Mr Al Ghazzi's brother Rabeeh, who often took part in demonstrations against the regime, was executed.

In December 2024, Mr Al Assad's regime was overthrown by rebels led by Hayat Tahrir Al Sham. The relations between the US and Syria have since improved, and President Donald Trump met Syrian leader Ahmad Al Shara at the White House on November 10. The US announced during the visit that it was renewing a waiver of Caesar Act sanctions imposed on Damascus.

The Caesar Syria Civilian Protection Act, passed in 2019, imposed sanctions on the Assad government and those connected to it.

“Every time I look back at those days, I wish that my brother was alive to see what we saw and feel how freedom could be achieved. I know it needed a lot of sacrifices. He was my only brother. He was 31 when he was killed,” Mr Al Ghazzi says.

“I will never forget the way they killed him in the middle of the street. It was execution-style.”

Rami Al Ghazzi's brother Rabeeh, who often took part in protests against the Syrian regime, was executed. Rami Al Ghazzi

Navigating a new life

After settling in northern Virginia, the Ghazzi family began to rebuild their life and future. Ms Sakbani realised that cooking could provide an income and connection to their homeland. In 2018, the family launched Damascinos, a Syrian catering business named after their home town.

To help launch the business, they worked with Mozaic, a non-profit organisation founded in 2016 that is dedicated to supporting refugees in the Washington area through culinary training, licensing and opportunities to earn income.

The group's founder, Raghad Bushnaq, who moved to the US from Syria in 1989, said the organisation was formed to unify scattered community support efforts. Many refugees already had strong culinary skills, she said, but they needed guidance to deal with American systems.

“We became very supportive to many, many families,” she says.

With Mozaic’s help, Damascinos expanded quickly. The organisation assisted with marketing, connecting the family to sellers and customers, and opening doors to bazaars where they could sell their products.

The Ghazzi family also began mentoring refugees supported by Mozaic.

“Commercial cooking is far different from cooking at home. They [refugees] need to cater to the taste buds of other people. They also didn’t know about, for example, licences and food management,” Mr Al Ghazzi says.

Even as their business grew, the family remained stuck in legal uncertainty with their pending asylum application.

“We have had three interviews,” Mr Al Ghazzi says.

His children, aged 17, 15 and seven, have spent nearly their entire lives in the US. Recent changes to immigration policy, including the recent termination of Temporary Protected Status for more than 6,100 Syrians, have increased his anxiety.

“We are very worried because we built our life here. We have a business. We have kids who are in school now. My oldest daughter Shaza is going to college next year,” he says.

“How am I going to employ people if I don’t know whether I’m going to stay here or not? Those people are going to rely on me for paying for their families.”

Damascinos is on pause because of limited investment, even as the family looks for stability through education and employment. Ms Sakbani is studying nursing and Mr Al Ghazzi is working at Amazon while finishing his bachelor’s degree.

Yet they remain committed to their dream. “There is no set plan of where we’re going to take the business from here. We hope to find an investor,” he says. “If we find the right person, I’m willing to keep working on the business and make it very successful.”

A lifeline for refugees

Mozaic has trained 32 refugee chefs, many of whom now run food trucks, restaurants or grocery shops. It also operates a sewing studio, which provides vocational training and mental health support for women.

Explaining the organisation’s approach, Ms Bushnaq says: “We don’t deal with them as clients or as customers or as refugees. They are part of the family.”

Mozaic has also established walking clubs and a library, and plans to launch a writing programme to help refugees document and publish their stories.

On December 7, Mozaic will hold an event at George Mason University marking a year since Syria’s liberation from the Assad regime. Those taking part will display food and culture from the country’s 14 provinces.

Raghad Bushnaq, second from right, at Mozaic's library. Mozaic

Ms Bushnaq highlighted the broader contributions of refugees and asylum seekers in the US. “They all have social security numbers and work permits. They work and pay taxes every year. Not only that, in order to renew their status every few years, they pay a huge fee.

“My point here is they are great contributors to our community, not only in regards of culture and bringing their heritage and enriching our community. They are also contributing financially.”

Before the administration of US President Donald Trump froze refugee resettlement funding in January, Mozaic ran online seminars to support newly arrived refugees who were facing significant challenges.

The families that are most affected are those with disabilities, Ms Bushnaq said.

"We help them find resources and connect with other families who can support them, sponsor them until they are more stable."

After the administration announced that it was ending Syria’s TPS as of November 21, Ms Bushnaq said many people were forced to return despite the lack of infrastructure, health care and education in Syria.

“Many of the TPS holders graduated from prestigious schools such as Columbia and Harvard. Others were working in research centres. They are very ambitious and successful. So, those who returned to Syria, it was devastating for them and their families,” she says.

One of the Ghazzi family's cooking lessons

Seeking a stable future

Dr Nabila Hijazi, a faculty member in the George Washington University writing programme, often addresses refugee stereotypes in her classes.

“Students come into my class with one narrative that refugees are here because of economic reasons, because they want jobs. Yes, some of them do, but most of them did not take the decision to be here. So many of them were forced to leave their country," Dr Hijazi says.

"I want to change the narrative that refugees are here to deplete our resources. Like Mr Al Ghazzi’s family, so many started businesses, restaurants and created opportunities that are useful to the country."

Mr Al Ghazzi reflects on the violence that forced his family to leave Syria, saying: “I prefer not going back to Syria even though the regime was overthrown. Because those who were threatening us, we don’t know who they were.”

He explains that the violence in Syria continues to weigh heavily on his mind. “If you watch the news, you can see that every couple of days there are killings and shootings. I don’t think it’s the right place for my children, who know no country but the US. This is their life.”

Maria, 7, helps her parents during the cooking demonstration at George Washington University

Looking ahead, he sees little possibility of returning. “Syria has seen 14 years of destruction. They not only destroyed buildings, but they also destroyed human beings. That needs to be built again.”

For now, Mr Al Ghazzi and his family are focused on stability, raising their children, helping refugees and preserving Syrian culture through food.

Standing at the GWU cooking station, guiding students through the motions of shaping kibbeh, he is part of his efforts to share his homeland and a story of survival, resilience and hope.