With her mother, this young English teacher found refuge just a few kilometers from her home, in the region of Deir el Ahmar, an island of thirteen Christian villages, most of them Maronite, which surrounds the northernmost part of the Bekaa (in the east of the country). Since then, she and her family have been living in one of the schools made available to them by the state. “Our house is no longer habitable, even if the walls still stand“, she adds.
If Fatima can describe it, it's because she went down there a few days ago to get some warm clothes despite the continuing Israeli strikes. “There are no showers or hot water in schools. At some point, you can't take the stinking anymore and you go home to wash up.“His mother agrees: it's a washing machine that she came home to start.”I was tired of washing everything by hand.”she grumbled. However, three displaced families in Deir el Ahmar died on their way home. But the two women shrug their shoulders: “What do you want me to tell you? Our life comes down to these kinds of decisions now…“.
In bombed eastern Lebanon, a detail marks: “This is the main difference with the 2006 war, and what puts Hezbollah in danger”
Wave of refugees
From September 23, the start of the intensification of Israeli strikes in Lebanon, around 25,000 residents of Baalbek and neighboring towns rushed to reach Deir Al Ahmar. The last big wave took place on October 30, when the Israeli army, which was preparing to bomb Baalbek and neighboring towns, asked the 100,000 inhabitants, mainly Shiites, to evacuate. “The first to arrive often only had their clothes on. We opened a school at the beginning of the afternoon. At 3 p.m., it was full. Two others were requisitioned. It wasn't enough.”remembers Geryes Berkachi, who hosts “Deir el Ahmar News” on WhatsApp. That night, most of the displaced slept outside or in their cars. “Some then found alternatives elsewhere“, he explains.
But 11,000 refugees remain stuck there: 2,500 in the six requisitioned public schools, 7,000 in the approximately 500 buildings that the Church has opened to them. A very small minority rents accommodation. “They are our neighbors. We have very strong links with the surrounding villages. Helping them is normal“, explains Bishop Hanna Rahmé, who admits not knowing how to cope if others still arrive.
The man of religion, on the other hand, brushes aside the political question: these villages are nevertheless one of the bastions of the Lebanese Forces, opponent of Shiite Hezbollah, with which this Christian party often has trouble. “For everyone's safety, we asked Hezbollah members and fighters not to stay. They left, perhaps to Syria, the border being close. But we also have volunteers, who ensure statistical monitoring of the families present and security teams who control the comings and goings.“.
In Israel, “this war will perhaps end thanks to negotiations with Lebanon, but then another will begin”
Precarious resources
Local authorities, notoriously underfunded, do not have the means to bear the enormous burden that the displaced represent. The Lebanese state, virtually bankrupt since the economic crisis of 2019, only helps them at the margins. “Blankets, mattresses, food, medicines… Help arrives thanks to NGOs, the very involved diaspora”explains Rabih Nahmé, who coordinates the region’s “Emergency Committee”. “But the absolute imperative is to find fuel oil for electricity and heating“, he insists.
Because winter is coming. On the Aïnata pass, at an altitude of 2500 m, overlooking this cluster of villages, the snow has already fallen, closing the last still safe road to access it. Volunteers are already rationing: in schools, electricity is only provided for two hours a day. According to Rabih Nahmé, $8,000 per month is needed to finance heating and ten hours of daily electricity. “We don't have the means.”he said. Likewise, breakfast has been reduced to a snack and only one hot meal is offered in the middle of the day.
“We also urgently need the internet“, warns Horra, also displaced from the Baalbek region, who is worried about her two out-of-school children. “Their establishment has restarted remotely. But they can't keep up. They're going to lose their year, it's unfair.”she justifies to the school director, Mona Habchi, who does not know what to answer her. After a few minutes, it just whispers. “Imagine the four months of winter in these conditions… But we will hold on, yes, all together“.
