Our Stories
This stories comes from lebanese displaced families seeking for your support
Ezdihar and her daughter
"My daughter is only 14, but with all the difficulties we’ve had to overcome, she often responds to situations, namely airstrikes, with a maturity that surpasses her years. She’s had to grow up quickly.”
Originally from Baalbek in eastern Lebanon, Ezdihar used to live with her husband, 14-year-old daughter, and 17-year-old son in the southern suburbs of Beirut. When the first bombing raids hit the city, the family initially decided to stay, hoping that the situation would soon return to normal. It was on the evening of September 28, around 10:30 p.m., while the family was having dinner, that they received the alert of an imminent strike in the neighborhood, and they decided to flee.
Ezdihar’s husband left for an area in Mount Lebanon governorate to take care of his mother. Given the mother’s health condition, staying in an overcrowded shelter could worsen her situation, so they arranged for her to move to a different apartment. Ezdihar took her two children and left the southern suburbs for the center of the capital with 14 of her neighbors. Not knowing where to seek refuge, the group spent their first night on the streets before moving to the Azarieh shelter, a once-busy commercial building in the city center that has been turned into a space for displaced people to stay. After spending two weeks in Azarieh, Ezdihar says she doesn’t feel safe in the shelter and no longer knows where to go to seek refuge from the bombings.
Habbas and her family
“I don’t want to leave Lebanon, but I have a son and a wife to take care of. If the only way to regain stability is to leave, then we’ll leave. But where and how, I have no idea.”
Imad Hachem lived with his wife, sister, son, and cousin in the southern suburbs of Beirut. In the aftermath of the September 27 strike that killed Hassan Nasrallah, former Secretary General of Hezbollah, Imad realized that the security situation in the area was about to worsen. The family decided to leave home, taking with them all they could carry, including their ID documents, which they have carried with them ever since. Although it took the family a few days to find mattresses and blankets, Imad explains that they are now managing to survive in the Azarieh shelter thanks to the regular distribution of food. He is worried, however, about the living conditions in the shelter, especially with the arrival of winter, which brings rain and cold weather. He is also concerned about the health of his cousin, who has cancer and has been missing treatment.
"We used to receive this expensive treatment from the Ministry of Health, but now we are not sure how to access it," he says.
Alia sits on the pavement of the school’s humble garden in Barja, a small town located Mount Lebanon, her face perplexed as if she doesn’t know what to do. Her mother-in-law, who has just undergone eye surgery, is trying to avoid the harsh sun rays.The school Alia is sheltering in is overflowing with displaced people like herself. Sounds of children playing fill the air, yet it cannot mask the blasts of airstrikes falling on the surrounding hills and shaking the building.
“We’re from the southern border town of Khiam. We were forced to leave our home around a year ago when clashes started. And now, we were forced to leave yet again from the house we were sheltering in. We had barely started adapting, registered our kids in a nearby school, and all of it went away.” says Alia.
Before being forced out of her house in October 2023, Alia was working as a nurse. Since then, she has not been able to work, and the family has lost their source of income.
In the last quarter of 2023, she spent two months trying to find a safe home for herself, her husband, and her two boys. They would move almost every ten days from one town to another, desperately trying to find a more permanent place to stay. Finally, a former colleague found her a house in the southern town of Kfartebnit, 20 kilometres away from her hometown.
On Monday 23 September 2024, a large-scale Israeli bombardment of south Lebanon started, soon spanning beyond to different densely populated areas of the country. Alia had only the time to pack up a few things and the family went on the move.“We left the house at 1:30 am under heavy bombing from all around us. The traffic in the south was insane. We went to two towns first, but their schools were full to the brim. We ended up sleeping that night in our car. The next morning, we came to this school and thankfully we found a classroom to house us. But we have nothing to sleep on. Fortunately, I managed to bring two blankets with me.”
The scale of displacement in Lebanon is unprecedented, which surpasses the country’s capacity to house the displaced. Main pressing needs people express are mattresses, pillows, blankets, and hygiene products, on top of medical care.“This displacement is by far tougher than the first one. My children tell me they would rather die under bombing than to live like this. The school was shaking all night. We consider ourselves safe here for now, but what if Israel decides to target schools?”
When Alia last visited her house in Khiam three months ago, it was heavily damaged, with all the windows shattered but at least it was still standing. She is afraid that with the latest waves of Israeli strikes, her house might have been reduced to rubbles.
“I hope one day we can return to our houses – our original houses – if there are houses to go back to.”