‘TO SURVIVE, WHAT CHOICE DO WE HAVE?’
Even during the worst period of their life, these refugees have not lost their hospitality
“IT took us seven days to arrive here when, on average, a trip from our village would only take half an hour,” said Zuhur, a widow initially from Homs.
It was January 2019 that I met her in Arsal during an emergency humanitarian mission after Storm Norma hit Lebanon.
Located on the mountainous Lebanese border, the freezing white storm battered Arsal with fierce winds and heavy snow, leaving Syrian refugee camps in unimaginably horrible conditions.
I was astounded by her story. Zuhur, like hundreds of thousands of other Syrians, fled their country because of war. Most of them emphasised that the main reason was the use of explosive weapons in their villages, towns and cities.
She and her two daughters now lived in a building with small cubicles with 19 other families, all widows and their children. They have a shared toilet and kitchen that didn’t seem to have even the basic facilities.
“My home was in Homs. Our village was beautiful. We had trees everywhere, we had our cattle, we were self-sufficient. But I hear it’s not liveable any more.
“There was bombing and shelling every day. We lived in fear, constantly waiting for the rockets to be fired and the bombs dropped. We never knew where they would hit. It was random.”
“This went on for two years. Death was something we hear often. Sometimes it would be 20 people dead. Another day it would be 30.
“My husband died several years ago, and I raised my children all alone. One night, as we were sleeping, a rocket hit our house. It was a night I will never forget for the rest of my life.
“The loud noise shook me, and suddenly rubbles were falling on me. I heard my son screaming from the room next door. I was terrified, but my instinct told me I had to reach my sons immediately. So much chaos, I did not realise that my leg was injured.
“To my despair, I found both of them dead. Sorry, I can’t describe to you the extent of their injuries.”
Zuhur was in tears then, and I didn’t want to make her more miserable. I held her hand and tried to console her. She continued.
“A few weeks later, I made a decision to flee to Arsal with my daughters as it was the closest and safest town for a Sunni like me. They were lucky to escape
with minor injuries.
“We left on foot, hiding for days sometimes, to ensure our path was safe. It was hard, not to mention scary, but we had to keep going. It was impossible to turn back. When we arrived in Arsal, we lived in a tent before moving into this building. It is not even close to the life we had, but what can I say?”
Zuhur let out a deep sigh. “A year after moving here, my mother died from prolonged sadness and grief. Our life is hard. There is no work opportunity for women here, especially widows like me. It is tiring to keep asking for charity when I am used to be a giver. To survive, what choice do we have?”
Zuhur left me with a question that lingers in my mind until today. Since the start of the conflict in 2011, over 5.5 million people have fled Syria. A decade later, Lebanon is hosting the highest per capita number of refugees worldwide — one million officially registered.
The economic downturn, steep inflation, Covid-19 and the Beirut blast have pushed vulnerable
communities in Lebanon, including Syrian refugees, to the brink, with thousands of families sinking into poverty and debt.
I will never forget Arsal. The weather was so cold that I slept fully dressed with layers of sweaters, a jacket, gloves and thick socks. At night the wind blew so hard, it made a scary howling noise. And the heater stop working because the gas froze.
But despite the freezing weather, the people greeted us warmly. We were offered sweet hot tea by the refugees during distributions, and on several occasions, we were even invited into their small cramp tents because it was snowing heavily.
One of the most salient features of Arab culture is its hospitality. Even during the worst period of their life, these refugees have not lost this virtue. An Arab proverb says: “If you have much, give of your wealth; if you have little, give of your heart.”
This lesson I will carry for the rest of my life.