Lebanon’s Only Burn Unit Treats Toddlers after Israeli Strikes

 Two-year-old Ivana Skayki, who suffered third-degree burns over nearly half of her body from an Israeli strike in southern Lebanon, lies in bed at Geitaoui Hospital in Beirut, Lebanon October 30, 2024. (Reuters)
Two-year-old Ivana Skayki, who suffered third-degree burns over nearly half of her body from an Israeli strike in southern Lebanon, lies in bed at Geitaoui Hospital in Beirut, Lebanon October 30, 2024. (Reuters)
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Lebanon’s Only Burn Unit Treats Toddlers after Israeli Strikes

 Two-year-old Ivana Skayki, who suffered third-degree burns over nearly half of her body from an Israeli strike in southern Lebanon, lies in bed at Geitaoui Hospital in Beirut, Lebanon October 30, 2024. (Reuters)
Two-year-old Ivana Skayki, who suffered third-degree burns over nearly half of her body from an Israeli strike in southern Lebanon, lies in bed at Geitaoui Hospital in Beirut, Lebanon October 30, 2024. (Reuters)

Wrapped in gauze from her head to her tiny toes, toddler Ivana Skayki lies nearly motionless in a hospital bed much too big for her. For weeks, she has been treated for severe burns sustained in Israeli strikes on her hometown in southern Lebanon.

Skayki, who turns two next month, sustained burns to nearly 40% of her body, including half of her face, her chest and both upper limbs, according to Ziad Sleiman, plastic surgeon at the specialist burn unit in Beirut's Geitaoui Hospital.

The unit is the only one across Lebanon equipped to deal with burns. Its hallways echo with the screams of children as anxious parents await news from doctors.

Ivana's father Mohammad told Reuters his daughter was burned in Israeli strikes as they prepared to flee their hometown of Al-Aliyah on Sept. 23, the day that Israel dramatically ramped up its strikes on Lebanon.

More than 550 people were killed that day alone, according to Lebanon's health ministry.

"There was a hit, the house shook - everything was breaking, the windows, the roof, everything, the blast was in my house," Skayki recalled. "I thought to myself, 'this could be it, this could be the end.'"

Israel says it makes all possible efforts to avoid civilian casualties and accuses Hezbollah of deliberately basing its fighters in residential areas and using civilians as human shields. Hezbollah has denied the accusation.

The family managed to flee to the southern port city of Tyre, where Ivana got initial treatment. They moved again to another hospital, but with no department there for burns, Ivana only got partial treatment before they could reach Beirut.

Sleiman said Ivana had received skin-graft operations and could be released within days. She still has deep red marks on her face, where some of her skin is peeling.

The hospital has admitted eight children with third-degree burns to half their bodies. It has had to be selective compared to other patients, Sleiman said, because it is short of space.

Geitaoui Hospital's burn unit has a typical capacity of nine beds, but has managed to increase to 25 with help from the health ministry to cope with the influx of patients, said the hospital's medical director Naji Abi Rached.

Most patients stay for up to six weeks because of their critical condition.

"Sometimes the outcome is not positive, due to the extent of the burns," Abi Rached said.



Iraq Opens Arms to Lebanese Fleeing Israeli Attacks

Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)
Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)
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Iraq Opens Arms to Lebanese Fleeing Israeli Attacks

Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)
Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)

Israeli bombardment of Lebanon forced Mohammed Fawaz and his family to flee so often that they finally moved many kilometers (miles) away to find respite in central Iraq.

"Wherever we went, danger followed," the 62-year-old white-haired Lebanese man told AFP in the small town of Al-Qassem, sitting with his wife and daughter.

"That's when I thought of Iraq. It was the only way I could see to escape the danger after we saw death with our own eyes."

Opposite the small house where they now live, beyond a road busy with traffic, tall palm trees emblematic of Iraq's Babylon province stretch as far as the eye can see.

According to the United Nations refugee agency UNHCR, more than 19,200 Lebanese have arrived in Iraq since the escalation of hostilities in Lebanon.

The Baghdad government and Shiite religious authorities mobilized quickly to cope with the influx.

So did the Popular Mobilization Forces, an alliance of pro-Iran former paramilitary groups now integrated into Iraq's security forces.

Everyone turned out to welcome the refugees, helping them get to Iraq and also arranging accommodation.

The solidarity has highlighted the close ties between the Shiite communities of both countries.

Iraq had always welcomed Lebanese pilgrims visiting its famous Shiite shrines at Karbala and Najaf.

But now the Baghdad government, in which pro-Iran parties dominate, is also willing to signal it stands staunchly by Lebanon in the wake of daily Israeli attacks on Hezbollah strongholds there.

Fawaz is originally from south Lebanon, and moved to the southern suburbs of Beirut before later moving again to the outskirts of the capital.

- 'Invited guests' -

"We fled from place to place," the father of four said, bursting into tears when he spoke of relatives back in Lebanon.

"My displaced brothers now live in schools in different areas."

His journey to Iraq included a coach trip across Syria.

After a stopover in the Sayyida Zeinab area south of Damascus, home to a Shiite shrine protected by pro-Iran groups, their entry to Iraq was coordinated by the PMF.

Fawaz hailed what he called "the best welcome" and Iraqi generosity, especially from his host, one of many Al-Qassem residents who have opened their doors to Lebanese refugees.

He praised Iraq's government for "treating us like invited guests, not refugees".

The war in Lebanon has displaced at least 1.3 million people, according to the UN migration agency, and more than half a million have fled into neighboring Syria.

Those who opted to stay often find themselves in makeshift and under-equipped shelters set up in schools.

In other areas, their presence can sometimes provoke unease or mistrust.

Iraq has made things easier for the new arrivals by extending visas. Those with no passports are helped out with new travel documents, in coordination with the Lebanese embassy.

The UNHCR says that some 62 percent of the Lebanese arrivals are women and children, and that the children will be able to attend Iraqi schools.

Nearly half of the arrivals are being housed in Najaf and also Karbala.

The religious authorities have taken over hotels previously reserved for pilgrims.

- 'No alternative' -

Jalal Assi, who is in his forties, is now in Karbala.

"We had no alternative, and decided to come to Iraq," he told AFP, citing the "facilities offered to Lebanese".

"We hope the situation will get better and security will be restored so we can go home," he added.

Neemat Mussa, 44, originally from the south Lebanese village of Hariss, is now living in the Babylon provincial capital Hilla.

She and her husband, their two daughters and an aunt are staying in a house owned by an Iraqi police officer.

When she does the family shopping she is driven there accompanied by a local benefactor who also foots the bill.

"We chose Iraq because it's a safe place where we are not afraid," she said in a tired voice. It is her first time in the country, although her husband came previously on pilgrimage.

The warmth of Iraq's welcome cannot mask the bitterness of exile.

Mussa has lost her cousin and sister-in-law in the war, and she follows the news intently on her phone.

She weeps when she talks of their loss and of the country to which she longs to return.

"I'm in a comfortable home, and the Iraqis make sure we lack for nothing," she said, adding: "When I got sick, they took me to hospital."

"But I miss my house and my own country, my neighbors and my family. That's my real home."