BBC Middle East correspondent
Getty ImagesWarning: This article contains distressing details
“Your brother is a hero.”
This is what Emad was told after finding out his brother had been killed in a suicide explosion at a church in the Syrian capital of Damascus.
His brother, Milad, and two others had tried to push the suicide attacker out of the church building. He was killed instantly – alongside 24 other members of the congregation.
Another 60 people were injured in the attack at Greek Orthodox Church of the Prophet Elias, in the eastern Damascus suburb of Dweila on 22 June.
It was the first such attack in Damascus since Islamist-led rebel forces overthrew Bashar al- Assad in December, ending 13 years of devastating civil war.
It was also the first targeting of the Christian community in Syria since a massacre in 1860, when a conflict broke out between Druze and Maronite Christians under Ottoman rule.
The Syrian authorities blamed the attack on the Islamic State (IS) group. However, a lesser- known Sunni extremist group, Saraya Ansar al-Sunnah, has said it was behind the attack – though government officials say they do not operate independently of IS.
Milad had been attending a Sunday evening service at the church, when a man opened fire on the congregation before detonating his explosive vest.
Emad heard the explosion from his house and for hours was unable to reach his brother.
“I went to the hospital to see him. I couldn’t recognise him. Half of his face was burnt,” Emad told me, speaking from his small two bedroom-home which he shares with several other relatives.
Emad is a tall, thin man in his 40s with an angular face that bears the lines of a hard life. He, like his brother, had been working as a cleaner in a school in the poor neighbourhood, which is home to many lower to middle class and predominantly Christian families.
During Bashar al-Assad’s rule, members of Syria’s many religious and ethnic minority communities believed the state protected them. Now, many fear the new Islamist-led government, established by the rebels who overthrew him last December, will not do the same.
While interim President Ahmed al-Sharaa and his government have pledged to protect all citizens, recent deadly sectarian violence in Alawite coastal areas and then in Druze communities around Damascus have made people doubt its ability to control the situation.
Many of Emad’s family members echoed this sentiment, saying: “We are not safe here anymore.”
Angie Awabde, 23, was just two months away from graduating university when she got caught up in the church attack.
She heard the gunshots before the blast.
“It all happened in seconds,” she told me, speaking from her hospital bed as she recovers from shrapnel wounds to her face, hand and leg, as well as a broken leg.
Angie is frightened and feels there is no future for Christians in Syria.
“I just want to leave this country. I lived through the crisis, the war, the mortars. I never expected that something would happen to me inside a church,” she said.
“I don’t have a solution. They need to find a solution, this is not my job, if they can’t protect us, we want to leave.”
Before the 13-year civil war, Christians made up about 10% of the 22 million population in Syria – but their numbers have shrunk significantly since then with hundreds of thousands fleeing abroad.
Churches were among the buildings bombed by the Syrian government and allied Russian forces during the war – but not while worshippers were inside.
Thousands of Christians were also forced from their homes due to the threat from hardline Islamist and jihadist groups, such as IS.
Izettin Kasim/Anadolu via Getty ImagesOutside the hospital where Angie is being treated, coffins of some of the victims of the church attack were lined up, ready for burial.
People from all walks of life, and representing different parts of Syrian society, attended the service at a nearby church, which took place under a heavy security presence.
In a sermon at the service, the Patriarch of the Greek Orthodox Church in Syria, John Yazigi, insisted “the government bears responsibility in full”.
He said a phone call from President Ahmed al-Sharaa expressing his condolences was “not enough for us”, drawing applause from the congregation.
“We are grateful for the phone call. But the crime that took place is a little bigger than that.”
Sharaa last week promised that those involved in the “heinous” attack would face justice.
A day after the bombing, two of the suspects were killed and six others arrested in a security operation on an IS cell in Damascus.
But this has done little to allay fears here about the security situation, especially for religious minorities.
Syria has also seen a crack down on social freedoms, including decrees on how women should dress at beaches, attacks on men wearing shorts in public and bars and restaurants closing for serving alcohol.
Many here fear that these are not just random cases but signs of a wider plan to change Syrian society.
Archimandrite Meletius Shattahi, director-general of the charitable arm of the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch, feels the government is not doing enough.
He refers to videos circulating online showing armed religious preachers advocating for Islam over loud speakers in Christian neighbourhoods, saying these are not “individual incidents”.
“These are taking place in public in front of everybody, and we know very well that our government is not taking any action against [those] who are breaching the laws and the rules.”
This alleged inaction, he says, is what led to the attack at the Church of the Prophet Elias.
