Fuel is unloaded from a Syrian Railways freight train at the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant [Charles Cuau/Al Jazeera]Fuel is unloaded from a Syrian Railways freight train at the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant [Charles Cuau/Al Jazeera]By Charles CuauPublished On 29 May 2026Baniyas, Syria — On a sunny February morning, a long screech of locomotive brakes marks the start of the day at Baniyas Refinery, Syria’s largest oil-refining plant. It is one of the last functioning arteries of the country’s fuel network.Men in helmets stand on a platform above the train, filling tanker cars with fuel as supervisors from the Syrian Petroleum Company look on - both the refinery staff and the rail workers are vital for keeping post-war Syria powered.Baniyas, a coastal city of 40,000 on Syria’s Mediterranean shore near the port cities of Tartous and Latakia, is one of the country’s main logistical hubs.Hussam Hassan, head of train-filling operations for the past three years, has worked at the refinery since 2002. Now in his forties, Hassan has witnessed the collapse of his workplace both during the Syrian civil war, which started in 2011, and its renaissance in December 2024, after the fall of Bashar al-Assad.“Since the regime fell, activity has really picked up, increasing train frequencies,” he says. “On good days, two or three trains exit the refinery after being filled and head towards Homs or Aleppo.”He explains how important their work is.“For workers here, the job is not just routine; it is an essential step to keeping the country supplied with energy. Without these cargoes, it would be much more difficult to supply power plants across the country, as everything would be done by truck.”Much of the system no longer functions as it once did. Vegetation creeps over tracks, and old passenger wagons sit rusting. Even the rusty orange tankers being filled look outdated.None of this will stop today’s convoy, destined for the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant, 20km east of the city. The load consists of a 170-meter-long caravan of 12 tanker-wagons carrying 5,000 tonnes of much-needed fuel oil, with one blue locomotive pulling it all.Hassan is not concerned by the train’s fate once it leaves the refinery, and he has never been on the journey himself.When asked how long it will take, he points to estimates: “15 to 35 hours”.At the Baniyas Refinery, tanker wagons of the SRC freight train are being filled with 1,300 tonnes of fuel destined for the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant on February 3, 2026 [Charles Cuau/Al Jazeera]At the Baniyas Refinery, tanker wagons of the SRC freight train are being filled with 1,300 tonnes of fuel destined for the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant on February 3, 2026 [Charles Cuau/Al Jazeera]Back to the railway ‘Stone Age’Nidal Abdulkader, director of Syrian Railways (SRC) operations in the Tartous governorate, says the journey will be “gruelling”.Abdulkader, 49, was a train driver between 2000 and 2011. During the civil war, he was exiled in the north, where he organised the shipment of wheat from Turkiye to the enclave of Idlib.When he started his new job last year, he was appalled by the decay of Syria’s rail system.“The war severely damaged the national network, and many sections were completely destroyed by attacks,” he says. “Some portions of the tracks were even looted as people sold stolen iron on the black market, including Assad militias.”Before the war, a direct line connected the coast to Aleppo, crossing the mountains of Jebel Ansarieh and stretching along the Syrian coastline. That no longer exists; the tracks literally vanished. Now the journey requires a long detour through the south to bypass the mountains.Seated in his large but dated office overlooking Tartous station, Abdulkader fondly recalls when “passenger trains linked major cities in just a few hours - you could even go as far as Deir Ezzor and Qamishli”, two cities along the border with Iraq. Behind him, old maps of a network covering the whole country hang on the walls, crude reminders of the sector’s lost vitality.“The problem isn’t only the tracks; good equipment is also lacking,” he says, noting that the locomotives date back to the 1970s, and their engines have not been updated since the early 2000s. As for the oil tankers, they have leaks.Everything needs “constant care”, he adds.Abdulkader explains why only freight trains still run.“No one is interested in hopping on a train if we can’t predict its arrival time,” he says.“It will take time to catch up”, he admits with a smile, but he is determined to overcome these difficulties one by one."Nidal Abdulkader, head of the Syrian General Railway Corporation's railway network in the Tartous governorate, stands outside the Tartous station [Charles Cuau/Al Jazeera]Nidal Abdulkader, head of the Syrian General Railway Corporation's railway network in the Tartous governorate, stands outside the Tartous station [Charles Cuau/Al Jazeera]Leaving BaniyasBy noon, the tankers are full, and the train is ready to depart. After weighing the wagons one by one, the shipment is handed off to the crew of locomotive number 708. The loco cab is the only place available to sit on the train.Crammed inside, the three-man crew share just a few square metres of space. The steady rhythm of the rails and the low hum of the engine accompany their conversation.Like all the locomotives still operating, 708 was built in the Soviet Union and dates back to the 1970s. Everything, from the dashboard to the stained windows, is from another era, and the largely metal interior offers little comfort.A small circular stove allows the crew to keep cups of tea and traditional mate coming, helping them stay alert. The atmosphere is relaxed, and a small speaker plays the classics of Lebanese singer Fairuz.At the controls is driver Abu Mahmoud. He will lead the first leg of the journey. He and the train chief, Hussein, are both over 50 and have spent their entire lives working for the SRC. Abu Mahmoud’s assistant, Mohammed, is a newcomer by comparison. At 37, he stands out, wearing a turtleneck sweater and well-polished boots. He is from a small village between Homs and Tartous and spent eight years in the army up to 2018.He explains why he joined the army.“At the time, the regime told young people on the coast: ‘You have no choice, there’s only the sea behind you. It’s either the army or death’,” he says.“That’s why I enlisted, and also to earn a salary,” he adds.After military service, he joined the SRC.“I would not have opposed staying longer, but after eight years, you were usually demobilised,” he explains.