This post is also available in: Français (French) العربية (Arabic)
By Hayat al-Zein – Lebanese journalist
The wave of forced deportation of Syrian refugees that began months ago in Lebanon has affected most Syrian families, who are now facing the daily struggle of sudden raids and fear of the unknown. This is in addition to the very difficult living conditions resulting from Lebanon’s economic and financial crisis.
During the recent violent wave of deportation, which intensified over the months of April and May 2023, refugee women (and we call them refugees even though they are not recognized as such in Lebanon) experienced massive and increasing fears that are plaguing Syrian society: they no longer know who they are afraid for, or what they are afraid of. Should they worry about their husbands being deported, and the traumatic consequences that brings? Or their children, in the event that their fathers are deported, leaving them without a breadwinner and the care of a father?
Deportations have increased amid harsh measures and sudden raids by the Lebanese Army. These are meant to put pressure on refugees in general and push them to return to their country without any guarantees that they will not be subjected to harm, enforced disappearance, arrest, or torture, and without securing housing or shelter for those who have lost their homes, lands, and properties because of the Syrian regime’s war on its own people.
Today, there are many Syrian men, workers and refugees, in Lebanon, some of whom entered Lebanon stealthily. Some don’t have valid residence permits, and others do, but they are all afraid of the authorities’ abuse and the threat of being deported. This has meant that they are unable to work in Lebanon like they did in the past—or work at all—thus placing even more burdens on women. Women now have to search for work or increase their working hours to barely make a living and secure food for themselves and their families.
Women are at the heart of the crisis
Salma (a pseudonym), a woman in her thirties who came to Lebanon in 2014, currently lives in a refugee camp in the Beqaa valley. She is one of the refugees who has felt the increasing burdens of the recent crisis, which has doubled her responsibilities in the wake of her husband being handed over to the Syrian authorities.
“During the last raid, they took my husband, and now he’s still with the Army,” Salma tells Medfeminiswiya. “I have five children,” she adds, “and my youngest daughter is two months old. There is no work, we don’t have a breadwinner. My daughter hasn’t had milk for three days.” Salma is unable to buy milk for her daughter given how expensive it has become. All she can do is cook starch in water and feed it to her instead of milk. She doesn’t know how long her daughter’s body will be able to handle this and the general lack of nutrition.
Salma explains that because of her husband’s absence, her children are crying all the time, asking about him. But she cannot calm them down or reassure them in any way. She is unable to help them get through this ordeal.
Regarding the financial difficulties the family is going through, Salma says, “The UN aid has been stopped for two months.” This means that there is no financial income that the family can currently obtain. In addition, Salma has not been able to find any work. Most of the women around her work in agriculture, in the plain, but she cannot do this because her new-born daughter needs constant care and attention. “How can I provide my children with food and water—let alone everything else they need to survive?”
Mona (a pseudonym) is in a situation not too different from Salma’s. She is also a refugee who has been living in Lebanon for about seven years, specifically in the Gaza camp in the Beqaa, with her husband and seven children. Evidently, her life post-crisis is not the same as it was before. “What we’re going through right now, this fear in the eyes of our men, young and old, is not normal,” Mona explains. “Men barely dare to leave the house now.”
She adds, “We haven’t had anything to eat for ten days. Everyone is nervous and afraid. You can see the fear on the older people’s faces more clearly than the young. If the older generation is afraid, how can they support the young?” She mentions the anxiety that never leaves her anymore: she is anxious about everything, about her husband and children, if one of them is even five minutes late coming home—or rather, to their tent—she immediately contacts them and keeps trying until they respond and she is assured of their safety.
“Women pay the highest price because they also bear the burden of taking care of the family and maintaining the home. All of this becomes more difficult during a crisis”
Mona tells us that her husband works at a stall selling socks, which is barely enough to secure a minimal income. Her eldest son also works, selling potatoes to help his father. But the current situation has led to a decline in their productivity, as they have to stay home most of the time to navigate the increasing restrictions and avoid the risk of unjust deportation. So Salma has had to increase her working hours to be able to secure the basic minimum of their needs.
Hayat Mirshad, Executive Director at the FEMALE collective, stresses that economic challenges are among women’s main concerns, especially in countries experiencing living crises, wars, and difficult security conditions. She points out that “women pay the highest price because they also bear the burden of taking care of the family and maintaining the home. All of this becomes more difficult during a crisis.”
According to recent data issued by Access Center for Human Rights (ACHR), on May 19, 2023, Lebanese authorities arrested no less than 808 refugees and deported no less than 336 during a security campaign. This number also included women and minors and occurred in different regions of the country such as Burj Hammoud, Wadi Khaled, and Hermel, as well as the Chouf district, Keserwan, and other areas.
Oppression, poverty, and exploitation
We also spoke to Laila, a third refugee for whom we are also using a pseudonym for protection. She lives with her husband and three children in a small tent at a camp in the Qaraoun area. At the end of April, an army patrol came and took her husband, who she claims was then deported to Syria. When her husband had barely been gone for a short time, a specific person found out and started to visit her every day, taking advantage of her husband’s absence to try and get close to her.
Laila tells us how a man she didn’t know started knocking at the door of her tent every night, claiming to want to help her. When he realized it wasn’t working, he resorted to threats: “If you don’t open the door today, I know you’ll do it tomorrow.”
Laila is fully aware that the man does not actually intend to help. If someone wants to offer help, they don’t do it after midnight. They come in broad daylight and offer whatever help it is they want to provide.
When the situation kept reoccurring, Laila decided to sell her tent in Qaraoun and look for a small room to rent to keep herself and her three children safe. But this wasn’t possible because of how expensive rent is, prompting her to stay temporarily at a relative’s house.
Laila’s story does not end here. There is a sequel to this tragedy: one of her children suffers from vitiligo and is therefore prone to skin cancer, which means he needs constant treatment and care. But Laila is unable to afford the medicine and medical visits, especially after her husband’s deportation—she’s been left alone without any support. She is also no longer able to pay for her other children’s education, given the high cost and general unavailability of transportation.
“We are living at the mercy of others,” she laments.
In this context, it is useful to recall what was stated in a report by the United Nations Population Fund. In times of conflict, everyone is affected by violence, but women and girls are more vulnerable to it, especially gender-based violence, due to the absence of social protection and the lack of safe access to services. The same report emphasizes that there exists a correlation between conflict and economic difficulty and the conditions that expose women to the risk of sexual violence, in addition to the general sense of threat and lack of security because of the absence of the partner (in the cases where he is non-violent, of course). On top of all this is no electricity, no private bathrooms, no locks on doors, and other basic necessities.
“We are living at the mercy of others”
We discussed this issue with a feminist activist who preferred not to be named for security purposes. She explains that although women are less likely to be deported, they bear the brunt of what is happening, as most of them are forced to leave the house more frequently and work more because their male partners are worried about sudden raids.
She confirms that refugee women become more vulnerable to exploitation if their husbands are deported and they are left alone. Here she indicates that according to circulating sources, most refugees today do not have valid residence permits, which means that they cannot have recourse to justice if they are subjected to exploitation and violence: the anxiety of the potential results of filing a complaint before the police or authorities takes over.
In conclusion, the deportation crisis has affected women’s lives and family life as a unit. Members of the same family are being separated from each other, and women are being forced to work very long hours in addition to their domestic work inside their homes or tents. This exposes them to further exploitation outside the home and violence within the family, especially since many men who feel the weight of discrimination and societal and legal violence let out their anger on their partners’ exhausted bodies and souls.
