Safia Flees ISIS Brutality and Looks to UN for Help

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Posted on Aug 01 2017 11 minutes read
Safia Flees ISIS Brutality and Looks to UN for Help
© Artwork by visual artist Ahmad Ghaddar
The following page embrace three real scenes as told by Syrian workers, both males and females, in recounting their daily suffering in the country of asylum at the social and legal levels, as well as their relationship with the Lebanese host community.

Safia’s hazel eyes are sad. They hide stories of fear, oppression and injustice; stories that are similar to the ones in Greek novels or Indian movies. This young woman whose husband was left paralyzed after a car accident, did not surrender to fate. But what if fate surrendered to war and to the armed fighters of ISIS who «have no respect to sanctity, women or children, not even to themselves», as the 29-year-old Safia puts it.

Safia and her husband paid all their savings to escape from the ISIS bullets and the «burning, scorching, devilish, and horrible injustice» of their militias. Safia recalls this and shakes every time she remembers those black days she witnessed before running away with her sick husband and her two-year-old son. «We survived a journey of death. We saw death with our own eyes… We  stayed for three consecutive nights in the forests from Deir ez-Zor to the Lebanese borders. I was carrying my son on my back, as well as his milk, water and food supplies so that he doesn’t die of hunger. We tied a deal with the smugglers through a dealer we knew to cross all those long distances full of mines, explosions and terror… I felt as if in the middle of a movie or a nightmare». Every time Safia talks about these days, she sweats and shivers then hugs her son who just is three years old now. «I want him to have a good future, but we do not always get what we wish for. We escaped death, but poverty is not letting go. I work in the field of agriculture here in Rmeish, where my husband used to work 15 years ago, before he had an injury and had metal implants in his leg. He knew a family here who owned an agricultural land, so he communicated with them and they helped us regain our life, or rather be born again». Safia is working in tobacco cultivation around six hours a day and her husband helps her whenever he can to pay for the house expenses and the rent. Safia, pregnant with a new child, in her sixth month, says: «I prick tobacco and get paid one thousand Lebanese Pounds per thread. It is a small amount for the effort, but we have no other job. The rent of our house, which is composed of one room, a kitchen and a bathroom amounts to 150 dollars. Sometimes, we make less than the money needed for the rent, so we borrow from the grocer what we need for food. We even sleep without dinner sometimes». Safia hopes the United Nations will help them through a temporary solution, «at least to eat and drink», as she puts it. However, the appointment she made with the United Nations Refugee Office was postponed twice… Safia is currently expecting, she has a child she did not enroll in school yet and does not know how, yet she is full of «hope in the United Nations», as she asserts.

 

Abu Yussef Builds Houses for People but Cannot Build a Future for Himself

 

A pair of worn-out jeans, a shabby cotton shirt and a hat that has witnessed sunrise and sunshine for more than a year and a half. Smoke coming off his cigarette like bits of the accumulated worries that pile up on his face, Abu Yussef, a father of three (two girls and a boy). The forty-year-old man who ran away from Deir ez-Zor with his wife and two daughters (before his almost eight-month old son was born) keenly mixes concrete with his shovel. He is a true master who understands his trade which he had inherited from his forefathers.

The sweat pearls gather on his forehead, then drop to his nose and mouth where he licks them as though it were flowing water, and says: «A small water bottle costs 500 Lebanese Pounds. I get paid between four and five thousand pounds an hour, which means that I am more entitled to the sweat coming out from my body than are the land and soil»… Abu Yussef’s reputation among the residents of Rmeish (a village in the Bint Jbeil district) where he lives in the south of Lebanon, is unshakable. People in the neighboring villages trust his work because he is «honest, poor and wants just to earn a living», as someone describes him. But «reputation is not a bread winner around here and does not grant us the right to work in the country of refuge», as Abu Yussef ascertains. He adds: «Back in Syria, the palm of my hand destroyed mountains and built castles and buildings. These muscles have built most of the houses in Deir ez-Zor. Physically, it had made me very tired, but I had a clear conscience and did not worry about issues such as nationality or residence or security…».

When Abu Yussef talks, the bitterness in between his words can almost injure his tongue: «As if running away from murder, slaughter, wars and ISIS was not enough, we suffer to get a job by the sweat of our brow. We do not want to take someone else’s riches. We just want to live in peace and honesty. If war in Syria ends today, I would go back empty-handed. I would only take these clothes, mixed with concrete. Believe me, no one likes to be a foreigner or to feel humiliated…».

Abu Yussef prefers living in Syria, but not before «...security settles in. We saw death with our own eyes. We will not risk our lives and that of our children once again, even if, as the saying goes, «we are living here for the lack of death». Abu Yussef gets paid around 150 dollars a month, a wage that does not allow him to even buy milk for his son, or bread for his girls and wife. He asks himself: «Would any Lebanese accept to live with 150 dollars a month?». Abu Yussef’s breastfeeding wife helps him with the house’s expenses by providing cleaning services in some houses, but she says «Not everyone accepts that I work in their houses. There are many racist people who dislike Syrians, but at the same time there are very good people who help us feed our children. I pray to God to give me breast-milk until my son is old enough to be enrolled in school. My milk is free, it is a gift from God. Powder milk is more expensive than gold in Lebanon».

Abu Yussef has no problems with the village residents. His problem lies with the Lebanese Government who wants him to pay for the residence permit while he does not get paid for food. He asks that the humanitarian organizations study the cases of thousands like him. He adds: «It is true that people look down on Syrians in most of the regions, but God sends us good people to help us. These aids however do not build a family and do not provide financial stability, but instead keep us feeling  inferior and humiliated every day. We do not want anybody’s pity. We want our salaries to increase in order to be able to eat, drink and live in a room with a kitchen and a bathroom, without having to be grateful to anyone»…

His second problem is his fear for his two daughters who are not enrolled in school yet. «They told us there is no place for Syrian students in the public school. There are not enough seats for the number that increased with the displacement of many Syrians to the region. This really scares me. I do not want my children to be illiterate. Ignorance breeds ignorance and poverty, and these two elements breed violence and wars»…

 

Nahreen, Shoved by Drama from Al-Hasakah to Beirut... Now Awaits Salvation in Sidney

 

All day long, Nahreen is in another world. She works silently and professionally. She trims the nails of elegant ladies and calmly cleans dead skin off of the sides. She then massages the hands and feet with hydrating creams before returning to the nails to paint them with bright colors that are full of hope, just like  her laughter.

Nahreen works in Downtown Beirut. She is this brunette girl who escaped to Lebanon with her aunt and brother since the escalation of the battles in Al-Hasakah region, where she was born and raised and where she obtained her degree in theater from the Faculty of Fine Arts.

The tough-as-a-rock 28-year-old woman says: «After graduating, I dreamt of becoming a drama actress. I started teaching children in schools, but hoped to get a nice role in a good series. While waiting for the acting role, life shoved me into one the most terrorizing drama roles of my life». Nahreen faces the waves of the sea and the lethal winds of war that displaced her from her country despite her will. «They kidnapped my brother when he was twenty years old. We have no idea who did it, and we still know nothing about him. They threatened to kill us all, all of our big family. Islamic Groups were threatening all the Christians. They said they will burn our houses, rape our women and slaughter our men…We all escaped before the break of dawn…We left everything behind. We only brought some gold and money that our parents have collected over the years».

Nahreen does not sigh and she does not cry. She speaks with defeat. However, she does not take advantage of her refugee status in Lebanon and does not allow for anyone to have pity on her. She works by the sweat of her brow. «Aesthetics and beauty were never my profession. When I arrived to Beirut, I was scared. I stayed with my father, aunt and brother in the house provided to us by one of our Syrian acquaintances who has been working here for the last twenty years. We were afraid the armed people will find out our place; fear turned us into prisoners… But we soon adapted and rented a house in Sabtiyeh. And since tending to beauty care is important in Lebanon, there is no better field to work in. This is how I started working in a nail salon that our neighbor had introduced me to».

Nahreen did not bring her college diploma with her. She was anxious when she ran away and work and education were not on her mind. All she was concerned about was fleeing rape and slaughter by the Islamic Groups. «I have no command of foreign languages. I get by with English, but what school in Lebanon would welcome me to teach theater like I was doing in Syria? Especially in light of where I am living, where everyone speaks French, which I do not understand at all». She adds: «This is not my dream job and it does not fit my ambitions, but I am forced to work because the money we brought with us had evaporated within days. My aunt is old and my dad had travelled later on to Germany with his second wife, the one he married after my mother had died. My stepmother had a family there so she helped him leave with her. My brother, my aunt and I stayed here awaiting our fate».

Nahreen did not want to live in Lebanon for the rest of her life, even though she adapted with the people, made friends and had a job that earns her around 600 dollars a month. «Honestly, I got used to life in Beirut and I plan things here with my friends and neighbors where we go to the mountains and lovely regions every Sunday. I even have a boyfriend who takes care of me and helps me financially. But life in Lebanon is hard and everything is expensive. I do not want to spend my days cleaning the nails of bourgeois women, so I decided to travel».

The elegant and courteous Nahreen, who is tactful in addressing her clients and colleagues  applied to the German Embassy. For two years, she waited with no answer. She wanted to immigrate to Germany, but someone recommended the immigration to Australia, where visas are granted faster. This fearless girl did not wait long; she went to the Australian Embassy and applied for immigration. After a long wait, she got an affirmative call. «I exploded with joy. I felt life was smiling at me again. I do not care what I will do there, what I will eat… All I care for is to be treated like a human being entitled to respect and dignity. A human being who is entitled to eat and to drink and to be hospitalized, no matter their religion or ethnicity or nationality», Nahreen affirms, with tremendous happiness. She will travel to Sidney soon, hoping to make her way into acting instead of the nightmare-like drama she’s been living for 5 years.

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