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What reconciliation, what forgiveness, Syria's deadly reckoning by Gheath Abdul-Ahead, read by Mouayyub.

Munir and Anas are pseudonyms.

On the night of March the 6th, Monir, his wife and their two sons, both in their 20s, got no sleep.

They huddled together in a small bedroom in their apartment as government troops and militiamen entered their neighbourhood of Korsur in the coastal

city of Benayas and went from house to house. The fighters seemed to be moving through the streets

with little coordination.

One house might get raided by five separate groups, while others were left untouched.

There was no plan, Munir said, just violence and looting.

The first question the fighters were asking when they stormed into an apartment was,

Are you Sunni or an Alawait? The answer decided the fate of the residents. Sunnis were spared,

although in some cases their apartments were looted. When the Raiders found an Alawhite home, some stole what they could carry and left.

Others had come for revenge and would steal first and then shoot.

If one didn't kill you, the next one might, Munir said.

Munir, a committed Marxist, had spent more than a decade as a prisoner in Bashar al-Assad's brutal prison system. When the regime ended in December last year, he was jubilant. But Munir is from an Al-Oyte family, the sect that had been associated with the Assad regime since the 1970s.

Members of the community had been involved in some of the worst atrocities of the civil war

that broke out in 2011, including disappearances, imprisonment and torture.

Munir knew that this could not be brushed the side.

After Essed's fall, a climate of fear and uncertainty descended over the countryside

...