Unable to afford cooking gas, Hasakah residents turn to a ‘deadly’ alternative

ERBIL/HASAKAH — One morning in mid-June, Marwa al-Nasser, 31, began making breakfast. Placing her one-year-old son, Hussein, on a mattress in the hall of their home in Hasakah city’s Gweiran neighborhood, she started up the family’s babur—a small, traditional kerosene cooking stove. It exploded between her hands. 

A fire spread through the rest of the house within minutes, and the mother and child were severely burned, al-Nasser told Syria Direct. They were taken to Hasakah’s al-Shaab Hospital, run by the local Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES).

Hussein, who suffered fourth-degree burns, died a few hours later. His mother was treated for third-degree burns to her face, hands and feet.

“Fortunately, all my children—except Hussein—were outside the house. If they were with us, we all would have burned,” al-Nasser, a mother of seven, said through tears. 

That morning, she had sent one of her children to fetch water and another to buy some household items. The others were at their aunt’s house “to help her with some things,” she said. 

Northeastern Syria has seen many babur explosions since the start of the year, when residents of AANES-run areas who could not afford the cooking gas needed to operate modern stoves began relying on the traditional kerosene burners, despite the risks.

At the start of 2024, the AANES hiked the price of a cylinder of household cooking gas to $10 (147,000 Syrian pounds at the black market exchange rate of SYP 14,700 to the dollar), up from 10,000 Syrian pounds in 2023. The price increase came after Turkey bombed the al-Suwaydiya gas plant outside the city of al-Malikiyah (Derik), putting it out of service. 

In July, the AANES’ Fuel Directorate lowered the price of a cylinder to $7 (around SYP 100,000). With typical use, a cylinder of gas lasts around a month. Still, the price is beyond what the area’s residents can afford, and remains 10 times higher than it was in 2023, several sources in Hasakah told Syria Direct. 

In a country where around 90 percent of the population lives below the poverty line, the “gas babur,” as it is locally known, is a lifeline for low-income households. But because locally available kerosene is impure and highly flammable, using one all too often amounts to playing with fire.

Two weeks after al-Nasser and her son were injured, a similar disaster was narrowly averted at 25-year-old Badran Ali’s house in Hasakah city. His wife was preparing lunch when their babur nearly exploded, but he was able to smother the flames in time with a piece of wet cloth, he told Syria Direct. 

Ali, an AANES employee, makes SYP 2.75 million ($187) a month. It is not enough to meet his family’s needs, so they started using a babur when the price of cooking gas shot up. “What makes you choose hardship if not something even worse,” he said.

Syria Direct reached out to the administration of the al-Suwaydiya gas plant to inquire about the state of repairs, a timeline for production to start again and whether that would lower the cooking gas price, but it declined to comment.

Adulterated fuel

Entering any house in Hasakah city’s low-income neighborhoods, one is likely to hear the roar of a babur as women work to prepare food, keeping thick pieces of fabric soaked in water close at hand in anticipation of any malfunction that could lead the stove to catch fire and explode. 

In March, 30-year-old Ahlam Jasem al-Wardi’s babur exploded in her face while she was cooking for her family, burning her severely. She was hospitalized for 20 days, and still suffers from scarring and deformities to several parts of her body. 

That day, al-Wardi filled the stove’s fuel tank with pure gasoline instead of kerosene. When she started the babur, it exploded, flames rushing over her body while her brother hurried to “put them out with water,” she recalled She lost consciousness from the severity of her injuries.

While she fears another explosion “that could kill me,” al-Wardi still cooks with a babur. “We don’t have the capacity to fill the gas cylinder,” she said, grilling eggplant. “We risk our lives using it, but there’s nothing we can do.” 

Al-Wardi lives with her parents, widowed sister and three brothers, along with their wives and children, under a single roof in Hasakah city. Her father suffered a stroke four years ago, and is paralyzed. 

Eggplants grill on the babur in Ahlam Jassam al-Wardi’s home in Hasakah city while a plastic bottle of kerosene bought from a street vendor sits in the background, 23/7/2024 (Salam Ali/Syria Direct)

Using a babur is not inherently dangerous. However, the risk of fire and explosion rises when other fuels—like gasoline or mazot diesel—are used instead of kerosene, or when kerosene is adulterated with these products, several sources in Hasakah told Syria Direct. As residents often buy these products from car owners reselling their own subsidized fuel rations, there is little oversight. 

On Hasakah’s sidewalks, children and vendors sell bottles of gasoline for between SYP 7,000 and SYP 8,000 per liter (around $0.50). A liter of kerosene sells for SYP 5,000 ($0.34), if it is available. 

One seller acknowledged the kerosene he sells contains a percentage of gasoline, “which is apparent from its color,” he told Syria Direct on condition of anonymity. 

Bottles of kerosene for sale on a street in Hasakah city. The dark color indicates the contents include other petroleum products, 23/7/2024 (Salam Ali/Syria Direct)

Petroleum products in northeastern Syria “are not pure in the first place,” Muhammad Masour, a chemical engineer from Qamishli city, said. “They are produced under low pressure, so there are overlaps in the production in general.” In other words, “the gasoline contains a percentage of kerosene and vice versa. The production line is also shared between all derivatives, which in turn leads to overlaps and mixing,” he explained. 

Producing pure fuel products requires constructing plants and refineries that meet international standards and operate under regulated atmospheric pressure, which is “difficult under the current circumstances,” Masour said.

“When gasoline is mixed with mazot [diesel], the mixture becomes highly flammable and extremely dangerous to use. High temperatures can also cause them to spontaneously ignite if combined,” he said. 

Gasoline is the most flammable fuel to use in a babur, bursting into flames if exposed to any spark or friction. Kerosene ranks second, with a flashpoint of around 38 degrees Celsius if the product is pure. “Kerosene is safe if it does not contain gasoline, which is not possible,” Masour said. 

No alternatives

Over the first six months of 2024, Syria Direct tracked 15 deaths and injuries resulting from babur explosions in Hasakah city alone. One of them was Maryam Ali’s sister, who was badly injured when her babur exploded as she prepared dinner for her husband in February.

Ali’s sister was taken to a hospital in Damascus, as her injuries were too severe to be treated in Hasakah. “She died seven days later,” she said. Around four months later, Ali’s cousin suffered the same fate, dying in a babur explosion in June. 

Ali, a mother of four, fears facing the same fate as her sister and cousin. But “we are powerless,” she said. Her husband works for an AANES institution for a salary of SYP 2 million ($136) a month, which is “barely enough to feed myself or my children,” she said. 

When a gas cylinder cost SYP 10,000, Ali’s family bought one every month. When its price went up, “we preferred to go without gas altogether and use the babur instead,” she said. 

Notably, using a babur is more expensive altogether than buying cooking gas—even at $10 a cylinder—because the family uses one or two liters of fuel a day, at a cost of between $15 and $30 per month. Still, “paying the amount in installments is easier than all at once,” Hurriya al-Abd al-Tamer, 55, from Gweiran, said. 

Al-Tamer knows the risks of using a babur, and has heard of the deaths and injuries in her city. Still, “we have no choice, and I have no ability to pay for a cylinder all at once,” she said. 

With no economical and safe alternatives, Hilala Saliha al-Shuaibi, 38, like so many other residents, has to use a babur to cook. She takes what precautions she can, making sure to “put a damp cloth next to me while using it, in anticipation of a fire,” she told Syria Direct. 

Al-Shuaibi’s husband died several years ago, and she rents a small shop near her home where she sells shoes to provide for her five children. Her son helps out, too, working as a day laborer for SYP 30,000 (around $2) a day. 

Two months ago, her babur nearly exploded while she was cooking, but she put out the flames “using a wet blanket,” she recalled. “The flames were coming out the sides, but eventually it went out,” she added, remembering how she went into “a state of panic.” 

Whenever she leaves her house, al-Shuaibi warns her children not to touch the babur or come near it, “especially in these summer months,” when temperatures in Hasakah exceed 40 degrees Celsius. 

As for al-Nasser, ever since her son died, she stopped using the babur to cook. She went back to using cooking gas, relying on “benefactors,” she said. “I won’t risk my life and my children’s lives again, even if I have to beg for money.” 

This report was originally published in Arabic and translated into English by Mateo Nelson.