Stories of the displaced in Lebanon

“There was heavy smoke and people in the streets were coughing.”

Maryam’s testimony was reported from a car as she fled her residence on Saturday, September 28, describing scenes of chaos in the southern suburbs of Beirut. 

"Yesterday [Friday, September 27, 2024], we heard and felt a huge series of blasts while we were in meetings at the office. We wrapped up work and got stuck in heavy traffic. I had just relocated to a safer place since the bombing around Beirut and across the country intensified on Monday. When I reached my new home around 10 p.m., my relatives had already joined us. They had left their homes, thinking it would be safer where we were. 

From my balcony, I saw dozens and dozens of people walking in the streets carrying what they could [in] plastic bags, backpacks, or nothing. People in the southern suburbs around ours had received evacuation orders from the Israeli armed forces. We saw people fleeing on foot, some walking with sticks, young and elderly. Some people were in cars. We were not in the neighborhood that was targeted but we heard drones and planes. Suddenly, there was darkness all around and bombing started everywhere. There was heavy smoke and people in the streets were coughing. I was with my mom, brother, and sister, and trying to figure out what to do next. Are the roads safe? Where do we go? 

I had just left my house in Dahieh—a southern suburb of Beirut—a few days ago because of the heavy bombardments. We thought we would be safer here. Now we had to leave again. I grabbed a bag of essential items I had at hand. We were told that it’s better to bring mattresses, so we stuffed two in our car and took a pack of water bottles. I didn’t know what to do. There were fires everywhere following the airstrikes, and I heard a huge blast. We heard, felt, and saw the strikes. Our building was shaking. There was a huge blast in a place with no advance warning for evacuation. 

Surrounded by fire and smoke, I was repeating to myself, “all we need is a plan and to take action, a plan and take action; do not wait here.” We just left the place as fast as we could. I don’t know what happened to my own house, or the new house. We kept calling around and drove for a couple of hours before we figured out where to go. Around 5 a.m., we found a place on the other side of the mountains. 

We were very lucky that we left when we did because the fires after the airstrikes were still raging where we had been. We just needed a place to rest a little, to see where to go next, and we still haven’t slept. Some people are still in cars. Now we’re watching the news and shocking footage of what is happening. I know that my MSF colleagues are in the field, supplying water by trucks to shelters and schools in Beirut and Mount Lebanon, where displaced families are staying. Some people are lying down on the sidewalks. 

MSF managed to provide 86,000 liters [about 23,000 gallons] of water in 24 hours, and is also distributing kits containing basic hygiene and relief items, as well as mattresses to the displaced people. Our mental health teams are on the streets providing psychological first aid to people who are traumatized and to people seeking refuge in schools. I am used to being a humanitarian worker, but now I am also a person displaced by air strikes in my own country. We are in a safe place, for now.

“That night was like a horror movie”

This testimony was given on September 30 in Ramleh El-Bayda, Beirut.

"My name is Hassan and I come from Nabatieh governorate in South Lebanon. I used to live with my wife and three children in the southern suburb of Beirut.

Four days ago, my family decided to leave our home because we were worried about our safety. That night was like a horror movie; warplanes, airstrikes, you name it. While we were in the car, we could feel the ground shaking.

We spent the first two days in a house in another neighborhood of Beirut, but then the owner asked us to vacate the apartment.

Now, we are here in Ramleh El-Bayda in Beirut. We are 20 members of my family, stranded on the beach. All shelters and schools are full. Where should we go? We have no place to go. It seems that nowhere is safe now. 

The situation is far worse than anyone can imagine. We have so many needs. When we left, we only took a couple of clothes and our documentation. We couldn’t even bring a mattress or a pillow. Last night, we slept on chairs. No one is helping us.

All I care about is the kids. The youngest of them is a year-and-a-half old. How can I look out for my family?"

“I hope we can return to our houses; if there are houses to go back to”

This testimony was collected on September 25 in a school in Barja, Mount Lebanon.

"We’re from the southern border town of Khiam. We were forced to leave our home around a year ago when clashes started. And now, we were forced to leave yet again from the house we were sheltering in. We had barely started adapting, registered our kids in a nearby school, and all of it went away.

We left the house at 1:30 a.m. under heavy bombing from all around us. The traffic in the south was unimaginable. We went to two towns first, but their schools were full to the brim. We ended up sleeping that night in our car. The next morning, we came to this school and thankfully we found a classroom to house us. But we have nothing to sleep on. Fortunately, I managed to bring two blankets with me.”

This displacement is by far tougher than the first one. My children tell me they would rather die under bombing than to live like this. The school was shaking all night. We consider ourselves safe here for now, but what if Israel decides to target schools? I hope one day we can return to our houses—our original houses—if there are houses to go back to.”

* Names have been changed to protect privacy.