Narrator: These rustic
oil refineries in Syria are a ticking time bomb. The slightest mistake and they can blow up, killing workers. Narrator: Thousands of these
facilities popped up in northern Syria after civil war broke out in 2011. Now, millions of displaced
people rely on them for fuel to run their cars, businesses, and homes, including Ahmed Abdalla, who owns some of the refineries. Narrator: So what does it
take to filter crude oil at these informal refineries in Syria, where children do a lot of the dirty work? And why is this black gold a blessing and a curse for the people here? Ahmed and his family
live in a small village called Tahrin near the city of Al-Bab. It's controlled by opposition forces, and it became a safe haven for
many refugees during the war. About 400,000 displaced
people live here today. Narrator: Satellite images of
Tahrin from 2011 show orchards. Several years later, the
land is black and barren and marked by refineries. Ahmed owns three of the
roughly 650 facilities in this part of town,
and he and his siblings poured their life
savings into the business when they started in 2012. Narrator: The crude oil is refined in these 55-gallon
metal drums, or burners. Each of these can cost up to $50,000. Narrator: A coal-powered
furnace heats the burners. The crude oil evaporates
and flows into pipes. These are submerged in water basins so that the vapors can condense and turn into diesel,
kerosene, or gasoline. Narrator: The heaviest part of the oil settles at the bottom of the drums. It's highly flammable
and needs to be removed before the drum is used
again for refining. This is what Ahmed calls briquette, and it's used for cooking and heating. Sometimes it's teenagers
who climb into the drums to clean them, because
they can squeeze through. Ahmed doesn't want them
around these dangerous tanks. But he says many war-torn
families have no other choice. Narrator: Even his own 16-year-old
son helps clean the drums. Narrator: After a long morning,
Ahmed takes a break with his workers. Today, he's having tea
with Mahmoud Abu Ibrahim, who nearly died in 2018
when an oil drum exploded. Narrator: His eyes were
permanently damaged. Narrator: Just like Ahmed,
Mahmoud is also a refugee. Before the war, he was
an electrical engineer. Narrator: He's exposed to plumes of smoke that release toxic chemicals,
slowly poisoning workers. Narrator: The smoke also coats
plants and trees, killing them off. And oil spills have contaminated the ground and drinking water. Narrator: These makeshift
refineries started showing up between 2011 and 2012, when
Syrians led a revolution against President Bashar al-Assad. At the time, Ahmed was a paralegal in his hometown of Al-Safira, which had become a battleground. So in 2012, he fled with his family and eventually settled in Tahrin. Narrator: But the worst was yet to come. In 2014, ISIS rose to power
and eventually took over the country's official infrastructure, says Wim Zwijnenburg, a researcher who's been following the Syria war. Wim: ISIS made a lot of money from selling oil to smugglers. So in order to prevent that, the US-led coalition started bombing some of these locations
to target wellheads, pumping stations in order to prevent ISIS from pumping up the oil. Narrator: The Syrian democratic forces and coalition troops
defeated ISIS in 2019. But over the last 12 years, the war has claimed over
300,000 civilian lives. Today, Syria is informally
divided into several regions. Assad's forces hold most of it. The Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces have the oil-rich northeast. And Syrian opposition
forces backed by Turkey control other parts of the
north, including Al-Bab. So tankers regularly deliver
tens of thousands of gallons of crude from the
Kurd-controlled areas to Al-Bab, where locals distill it. Thousands of people here
work in the industry. Wim: So taking away a livelihood and income for families in this area from the industry wouldn't be beneficial for any post-conflict reconstruction, rehabilitation efforts. Narrator: Ahmed's home just a mile away runs on the same fuel. These generators that pump
out well water use diesel. Narrator: But the very thing
that fuels life for Ahmed and so many others is destructive
in more ways than one. And that's where the
White Helmets come in. They're a humanitarian group of first responders from all over Syria. Hasan Mohamed is one of
about 3,000 volunteers. They were especially active at the height of the war in 2014. Narrator: They've rushed to the site of at least 550 oil refinery explosions. Hasan says sometimes they're a result of recklessness in the refining process, but other times, the Syrian government has targeted these refineries. Narrator: Despite the risks,
this is a lucrative business in an area with few other opportunities. Narrator: All together, his
three refineries produce nearly 1,000 barrels of fuel a day. Narrator: Ahmed buys the
crude for $70 a barrel and sells the refined fuel for $100. He makes enough to comfortably
support his family. But even staples like
groceries are expensive in the war-torn country, and about 60% of the population
is battling food insecurity. Narrator: In his downtime,
Ahmed and his sons tend to his Arabian horses. He owns 12 of them. His favorite one is called Shahab, which means shooting star. He frequently participates
in horse-racing competitions. The hobby is a remnant of his old life that he hopes to go back to one day.
