Hassan Akkad: ‘Losing the only circle of support you’ve ever known is devastating’

When you’ve been face to face with President Assad and told him he should be toppled for killing his own people, calling out Boris Johnson over his treatment of NHS workers is relative child’s play. Rory Sullivan talks to the Syrian refugee who became a filmmaker, hospital cleaner, activist – and now published author

Speaking out: ‘I was genuinely still scared. I wasn’t aware of the rules. What if you say something or go on a protest? Can they cancel my refugee status?’ (Manuel Vasquez)

Along with dozens of other Syrians, Hassan Akkad was crammed onto a small rubber dinghy heading from Turkey to Europe in the summer of 2015. Weighed down by so many bodies, it started to take on water and, for a time, tragedy looked inevitable, until a Turkish ship sailed into view.

Onboard the deflating vessel were people from most cities in the war-torn country; individuals huddled together from all walks of life, university professors and belly dancers alike. Nine children and a pregnant woman were also packed in like sardines. Akkad says he had not met such a diverse group of Syrians since being holed up four years earlier in a prison cell run by the nation’s notorious intelligence agency, the mukhabarat. “I really felt like Syria itself was on that boat and it broke my heart,” he recalls in his memoir, Hope Not Fear, published this week.

As the boat started to sink, Akkad, then in his late twenties, was among those who jumped off to reduce the load. He recorded the desperate scenes on his GoPro, with the footage later broadcast to thousands via the BBC documentary series Exodus: Our Journey to Europe, which looked at migration through the eyes of those who had, like him, fled their homes and undertaken perilous journeys in search of safety and security.