The 'Forgotten' Camps Where Syria War Displaced Languish

Girls stand next to a tent at the Al-Yunani makeshift camp in Syria's northern province of Raqa
Girls stand next to a tent at the Al-Yunani makeshift camp in Syria's northern province of Raqa
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The 'Forgotten' Camps Where Syria War Displaced Languish

Girls stand next to a tent at the Al-Yunani makeshift camp in Syria's northern province of Raqa
Girls stand next to a tent at the Al-Yunani makeshift camp in Syria's northern province of Raqa

Thousands of people displaced by 12 years of war are stuck in squalid, unofficial camps in Syria's Kurdish-held northeast, languishing in extreme poverty and largely cut off from international assistance.

"We've been completely forgotten," said Rahma al-Hammud, 33, standing at her tent -- a shoddy patchwork of worn-out fabric, tarp and old fertiliser bags crudely sewn together.

"Our children get sick over and over again. They get fever, diarrhoea and vomiting," said the widowed mother of four, AFP reported.

She lives in the Al-Yunani camp in the northern province of Raqa, where ISIS group had set up its de facto capital before its defeat in 2017 by US-backed Kurdish-led fighters.

Located near the Euphrates River, it is one of many informal camps inside Syria for people displaced by the conflict.

Women can be seen carrying heavy buckets of water from communal tanks in heat that can exceed 40 degrees Celsius (104 Fahrenheit), while children in filthy clothes and bare feet play in the dirt.

Sheikhmous Ahmed, an official in the semi-autonomous Kurdish administration, said tens of thousands of people live in dozens of informal camps in north and northeast Syria.

Only 16 camps, housing around 150,000 people, are formally recognized and have access to international aid, including Al-Hol and Roj, which host suspected relatives of ISIS militants, he said.

While living and hygiene conditions can be dire even in official displacement camps, the situation in informal settlements is sometimes worse, with no semblance of organization and little or no humanitarian assistance.

Tanya Evans of the International Rescue Committee said such informal camps "can be considered the 'forgotten camps' of Syria".

"Increased attention, funding, and sustained efforts by the international community are crucial" to ensuring such camps "receive the assistance they desperately need", she told AFP in a statement.

Hammud, who is displaced from elsewhere in Raqa province, said aid was "scarce" and that international organizations "do not recognize" the Al-Yunani camp.

"Even if they helped us every two or three months, people would have" better lives, said Hammud, a day labourer in the agriculture sector.

Three of her children also work in an industrial area nearby to help make ends meet.

Syria's war has killed more than half a million people and displaced millions since it broke out in 2011 with the regime's repression of peaceful protests.

It spiralled into a deadly conflict that pulled in foreign powers and global militants.

According to Sheikhmous Ahmed, Kurdish authorities are working "on a plan to transfer residents from informal to formal camps" in a bid to improve their living conditions.

If this were to come true it could improve the life of residents of Sahlat al-Banat, a makeshift camp which sits next to a landfill on the outskirts of Raqa city.

Residents spend their days scavenging the rubbish tip for anything of value, such as scrap metal and bits of plastic, which they hope to sell. It is their main source of income.

"The situation in the camp is tragic," said 30-year-old mother Shakura Mohammed, who was displaced from nearby Deir Ezzor province.

"People search through the rubbish for things they can sell in order to buy bread and earn a living," she said.

"No aid comes to the camp," she added.

According to a report by the United Nations humanitarian agency OCHA, 79 percent of settlements in Raqa province are informal.

A UN cross-border mechanism allowing aid to enter northeast Syria from neighbouring Iraq was halted in early 2020 after pressure from regime ally Russia at the UN Security Council, worsening conditions for those in need.

Umm Rakan, who lives at Sahlat al-Banat, said she had given up on the idea that things would improve.

"We no longer count on anyone's help. We lost hope years ago," said the woman in her 40s, who was also displaced from Deir Ezzor.

"We are destined to live trapped in this hell forever."



Beirut’s Southern Suburb Becomes a ‘Ghost Town’ as Residents Hesitate to Return

The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)
The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)
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Beirut’s Southern Suburb Becomes a ‘Ghost Town’ as Residents Hesitate to Return

The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)
The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)

Ali F., 35, refused to enter Beirut's southern suburbs to check on his home after Monday night airstrikes.

“I’m not taking any chances... I'll find out if the building is destroyed eventually,” he said.

He left his home in a rush days ago after Israeli forces warned residents to evacuate.

Now, he’s unsure about returning to collect his belongings.

“No one lives in the building anymore,” he told Asharq Al-Awsat. “If the power cuts while I’m in the elevator, I’ll be stuck, and no one will rescue me.”

Beirut’s southern suburbs were hit overnight after the Israeli military warned residents to leave areas near buildings it said contained Hezbollah infrastructure.

The area has become a “ghost town,” according to a civil defense worker near the area on Monday night, after the Israeli army announced airstrike targets.

Most residents evacuated their homes and moved to safer areas. By Tuesday morning, only a few dozen remained — mostly medics, civil defense workers, and some municipal police officers.

On Monday night, the Israeli army warned residents to evacuate three areas in the southern suburbs: Rweiss near Burj al-Barajneh, Mrayjeh near Lailaki, and Bir al-Abed in Haret Hreik.

The three targeted areas cover a five-kilometer stretch, filled with residential buildings home to tens of thousands.

These neighborhoods have long been the population hub of Beirut's southern suburbs, which have expanded east toward Hadath and south to Choueifat over the past 20 years.

Mona, who lives in Rweiss, questioned the strikes: “What’s in these areas to justify targeting them? Could there really be a weapons depot in a residential building right along the Hadi Nasrallah Highway?”

She was referring to two buildings in Bir al-Abed and Rweiss that were hit near the highway.

“Could a military facility really be under a building where dozens of families live?” Mona believes the Israeli army wants to clear the area, claiming the presence of weapons as an excuse.

The Israeli army said it launched “precision strikes on Hezbollah weapons manufacturing sites and infrastructure in Beirut’s southern suburbs on Monday night.”

Nearby residents endured a difficult night, shaken by loud explosions, watching the developments unfold on TV.

Just before midnight, Israeli warplanes targeted Lailaki, Mrayjeh, Haret Hreik, and Burj al-Barajneh, destroying several residential buildings.

Reports indicated that eight buildings were destroyed in Mrayjeh, along with others not listed on the Israeli evacuation maps.

No casualties were reported from the strikes in the southern suburbs, but Lebanon’s Health Ministry said at least 95 people were killed and 172 injured in Israeli strikes on southern Lebanon, the Bekaa Valley, and Beirut in the past 24 hours.