“Your name? Phone number? City of origin? Current address?” Holding the identity card, Akram Abu Fakhr noted the answers given by the man sitting in front of him. Aley’s official in Mount Lebanon, 20 kilometers uphill from Beirut, is responsible for registering civilians displaced by the war with Israel.
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“I work from morning to evening every day to record the necessary information for monitoring purposes,” said Abu Fakhr, following the same procedure used during Covid and established for Syrian refugees. “Knowing how many people are in each household allows us to provide tailored humanitarian assistance to everyone.”
A man and woman sitting on a worn sofa wait patiently to meet an officer in the small room where they work. The procedure is mandatory for each new arrival in the wave. “They’re very cooperative, but they don’t have a choice,” the blue-eyed man said as he filled out the form. “The data is then entered into the computer system by other agents.”
Abu Fakhr registers the information of 50 to 70 people every day. Only one member of each family should declare themselves to the city authorities. Each family’s needs are then calculated based on the number of children they have. Ale has already welcomed more than 6,000 displaced people. As Israel expands its ground operations in southern Lebanon, even more people may soon arrive. A record number of more than one million people have been displaced since March 2, according to Lebanese officials.
Growing protest towards the displaced people of southern Lebanon
Lebanese society is shaped by a painful and tortured history. The recent war has brought its share of fear and violence. Hoteliers, landlords and even cities are refusing to house residents of southern Lebanon for fear of eventually being targeted by the Israeli army.
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Israeli strikes, once confined to Hezbollah strongholds, are now targeting neighborhoods, cities and villages that have no ties to the militant group. The heart of Beirut has repeatedly beaten over the past ten days in residential areas such as Aisha Bakker’s neighborhood and the Ramada Hotel in Rouche. Israel says it has targeted Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps operatives hiding among displaced people in the Lebanese capital.
Joumana, originally from Dahiyeh, Hezbollah’s stronghold in the southern suburbs of Beirut, banished all thoughts of fear.
“You have to believe in destiny. After all, God decides when you’re going to die,” he said. “Israel targets everyone: civilians and Hezbollah members alike. We are all children of the same country. We need to stand together in these situations.”
The young woman has tired symptoms. Her look is both stern and sad. After arriving in Alley on March 8, she moved into a house that a former university classmate generously lent her. “Look at my friend, she gave me her house. All Lebanese people should be like this,” said Joumana. “I studied, became a lawyer and taught. Now I am a displaced person.”
‘No one should feel at risk’
Ale officials are doing everything in their power to reassure city residents and avoid potential tensions. “We have set up a hotline for residents to contact if they see someone strange in the neighborhood or building,” said Fadi Chehayeb, security in charge. “We will proceed by immediately reviewing the file of the person in question.”
70 police officers who are on duty 24 hours a day, seven days a week have been entrusted with this task. “The number of calls has increased since the hotline was established,” said Imad Halim, a member of the municipality of Ale. “We’ve already lived through this two or three times; we’re ready. Everything’s under control. No one should think they’re in danger.”
Mohammed, from a village near Lebanon’s border with Israel, hoped it was true. She recently crossed halfway across the country for her six children, who display psychological scars from Israel’s intense bombardment of southern Lebanon.
“I understand that residents want security; that’s what I want. I’m 50 years old and I have lung cancer in my esophagus. I don’t have much time left. The most important thing is that my children are safe and they can return to the village one day.”
This article was adapted from a French original by Sonya Sisnik.
(tags to translate)Middle East
