DAMASCUS, June 27 : The family of 29-year-old Abeer Suleiman received a chilling call on May 21, hours after she vanished on the streets of Safita: “Don’t wait for her. She’s not coming back.” The anonymous message, delivered via WhatsApp, marked the beginning of a harrowing ordeal. Her captors soon demanded a $15,000 ransom, threatening to kill or traffic her if their demands weren’t met.

By May 29, Suleiman was heard pleading in a voice message to her family, saying she was no longer in Syria and surrounded by unfamiliar accents. The call came from a phone with an Iraqi country code, the same used by her abductors.

Suleiman is one of at least 33 women and girls from Syria’s Alawite minority—aged between 16 and 39—who have disappeared in 2025 alone, according to their families. Many were abducted in daylight from the governorates of Tartous, Latakia, and Hama, regions with dense Alawite populations.

Their disappearances come in the wake of the fall of President Bashar al-Assad in December 2024, ending 14 years of civil war. The collapse triggered retaliatory violence targeting Alawite civilians, particularly in their coastal strongholds, and has left communities gripped by fear.

According to a Reuters investigation, based on interviews with the families of 16 missing women and a review of dozens of text messages, voice notes, and ransom receipts, a disturbing pattern emerges. Seven of the 16 are confirmed kidnapped, with ransom demands ranging from $1,500 to $100,000. Three of the women—Suleiman included—indicated they were taken out of the country. Eight of the missing are minors.

The United Nations Commission of Inquiry on Syria confirmed it is probing the surge in reports of abductions involving Alawite women. A spokesperson said findings will be presented to the U.N. Human Rights Council upon conclusion of the investigation.

In Suleiman’s case, her family borrowed heavily to meet the ransom, wiring the funds in 30 small transfers to accounts in Izmir, Turkey. But after payment, the captors vanished. Their phones went dark. Suleiman remains missing.

Local authorities, however, have offered little support. Officials in Tartous and Latakia dismissed the allegations of targeted abductions, attributing the disappearances to family disputes or runaway brides. In contrast, families say their pleas for help have been ignored.

Rights activist Yamen Hussein, who has documented these cases, insists that Alawite women are being deliberately targeted—a tactic rooted in the humiliation strategies once deployed by the Assad regime. He notes that many women now fear leaving home, avoiding schools and public spaces.

Among the youngest missing is 17-year-old Zeinab Ghadir, who vanished on her way to school in Latakia in February. Her family received a threatening message from her captor, warning them against sharing her image online. She briefly called home, complaining of stomach pain, before the call was cut. There’s been no word since.

Other cases highlight similar brutality. In March, 35-year-old mother of five Khozama Nayef was drugged and abducted in rural Hama. After 15 days and a $1,500 ransom, she was released—traumatized and mentally distressed. That same month, 29-year-old Doaa Abbas was pulled into a car by unknown assailants outside her home in Salhab.

Though a handful of missing women have resurfaced, some under disputed circumstances, most of the 33 cases remain unresolved. Authorities either failed to act or dismissed the incidents outright.

The Alawite community now fears a repeat of the atrocities faced by Yazidi women under Islamic State rule. With Syria under the new leadership of the Sunni-dominated HTS, which includes former jihadist factions, concerns are growing over systemic abuses.

Shadi Aisha, father of 23-year-old Nagham Shadi, has heard nothing since his daughter left home on June 2 to buy milk. “What do we do?” he asks. “We leave it to God.”

As Syria enters an uncertain future, the fate of these women—and the safety of a once-dominant minority—hangs in the balance.