Borj El Barajneh refugee camp

Refuge and return

“Where would you like to go?” asks a taxi driver a little older than my father, his thick Lebanese accent I barely understand. I reply politely, “Off the airport road to Bourj al-Barajneh.” “The refugee camp? No, I don’t go there,” he replies. 

Thousands isolated in a sea of destruction

I am the director of the Women’s Humanitarian Organization in the camp. As the war started, people rushed to the supermarkets to supply with food but the supermarkets and shops were empty during the first hours. Immediately, the first idea that came up to my mind was how to aid my people in the camp and provide them with prompt assistance in response to the severe conditions the Palestinians were living before and during the war. Eighty percent of them are unemployed or have part-time jobs and sometimes seasonal jobs. They earn their livings on day by day basis. So the critical question is how they could manage through this hard situation. 

From a lost refugee

I come from a small deprived Palestinian refugee camp in Lebanon called Bourj Al Barajneh. Something special about my camp is that it rains day and night, during summer and winter. It rains tears that are a result of future worries, present fears, and past dark memories.