Morocco: Self-isolation, Social Distancing Are a Luxury That Poor Families Can't Afford

In this in Wednesday, March 25, 2020 photo, volunteers disinfect an overcrowded housing complex to prevent the spread of coronavirus in Sale, near Rabat, Morocco. (AP Photo/Mosa'ab Elshamy)
In this in Wednesday, March 25, 2020 photo, volunteers disinfect an overcrowded housing complex to prevent the spread of coronavirus in Sale, near Rabat, Morocco. (AP Photo/Mosa'ab Elshamy)
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Morocco: Self-isolation, Social Distancing Are a Luxury That Poor Families Can't Afford

In this in Wednesday, March 25, 2020 photo, volunteers disinfect an overcrowded housing complex to prevent the spread of coronavirus in Sale, near Rabat, Morocco. (AP Photo/Mosa'ab Elshamy)
In this in Wednesday, March 25, 2020 photo, volunteers disinfect an overcrowded housing complex to prevent the spread of coronavirus in Sale, near Rabat, Morocco. (AP Photo/Mosa'ab Elshamy)

More than 900 people live in crowded rooms without running water or an income to support them in a housing complex in the Moroccan city of Sale. The country entered total lockdown in mid-March, however, self-isolation and social distancing are a luxury that families in this complex cannot afford.

Some families have lived in their room for 40 years, steadily filling it with children and grandchildren, with some rooms housing up to 10 people. Almost all are marginalized, and since the outbreak of COVID-19, those who had jobs - such as working in gas stations or selling small items on the streets - have been left with no way to make a living, the Associated Press reported.

Like countries around the world, Morocco is facing the challenge of how to protect populations from the fast-spreading virus while not punishing the poor.

In early March, the Moroccan government began rolling out measures to stem the spread of the virus, culminating in the ongoing lockdown that has turned once bustling cities into ghost towns.

Borders, schools, shops, companies, cafes and mosques have closed. Movement between cities is restricted. Only one member of each household is permitted to leave in order to buy necessities, and those who work in essential jobs must have government-approved permission slips to show at checkpoints or risk facing up to three months in prison.

As the measures started to pinch vulnerable families, Morocco approved emergency support packages to people not registered in public or private sector jobs.

The fund supporting such measures was established by Moroccan King Mohamed VI, and saw mobilization by institutions, businesses and officials.

At the housing complex in Sale´s old medina, children hang around the communal courtyard and run through narrow alleyways. Families share one room where they wash clothes, and fill buckets of water at public fountains.

Volunteers have stepped in to help, visiting the residence to disinfect surfaces, trying to prevent an outbreak of the virus in this crowded corner of Sale.

Kaddour El Miny used to sell water to shoppers in the medina. A job that brought in very little before the COVID-19 lockdown has now stopped entirely.

Ilyas, 61, lives with eight family members. "My sons can´t find jobs."

"We don´t rely on savings or a salary. If we don´t go out to work one day, then we go to sleep hungry."

Teams of volunteers in hazmat suits from Mohamed El Gaid´s aid group Shabab el Mowatana have been visiting slums and densely populated buildings like this one to help clean.

Local authorities supplied a room near a mosque where volunteers gather, store equipment and get water.

"We had to take the initiative and try to complement the government effort," El Gaid said.

"Every effort is necessary."

"We´re all from Sale and want to make a difference," he added, AP reported.

As the volunteers walk up through the tiny stairs of the complex, they´re received with relief and gratitude. People pray out loud for the workers as they disinfect walls and floors.

Residents hope that this will be enough to save them from a contagion they can´t risk facing.



West Bank Refugee Camp Gets Foretaste of UNRWA's Demise

UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP
UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP
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West Bank Refugee Camp Gets Foretaste of UNRWA's Demise

UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP
UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP

Residents of Nur Shams camp in the occupied West Bank are fearful for their future after an Israeli raid this week damaged the UN agency for Palestinian refugees office there.

The 13,000 inhabitants of the camp near the northern city of Tulkarem depend heavily on the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees.

UNRWA notably runs two schools, a clinic and sanitation services in Nur Shams.

Stunned refugees watched as workers cleared rubble from around the office, which was almost totally destroyed in an "anti-terrorist" operation on Thursday.

"For us, it's UNRWA or nothing," Shafiq Ahmad Jad, who runs a phone shop in the camp, told AFP.

"For the refugees... they look to UNRWA as their mother," said Hanadi Jabr Abu Taqa, an agency official in charge of the northern West Bank.

"So imagine if they lost their mother."

UNRWA chief Philippe Lazzarini blamed the destruction on Israeli forces, saying they had "severely damaged" the office.

But the military firmly denied the accusations, telling AFP that the damage was "likely" caused by explosives planted by "terrorists".

The office will have to be relocated, "a significant investment" according to Roland Friedrich, the agency's head in the West Bank.

"The psychological impact, of course, is devastating," he added after speaking to residents on Saturday.

- 'Attack on right of return' -

From his phone shop whose facade was torn off, Jad watched as excavators removed rubble and technicians repaired communications cabling.

He said he believed the chaos was linked to the Israeli parliament's adoption late last month of a law banning "UNRWA's activities on Israeli territory".

Were the agency to disappear even from the Palestinian territories like Tulkarem, he said the streets would fill with even more rubbish and sick people would go without care.

"To want to eliminate it is to want to eliminate the Palestinian question," Jad said.

Fellow camp resident Mohammed Said Amar, in his 70s, said Israel was attacking UNRWA "for political ends, to abolish the right of return".

He was referring to the principle that Palestinians who fled the land or were expelled when Israel was created in 1948 have the right to return, as do their descendants.

He insisted that Palestinian armed groups did not use the UNRWA premises, which locals consider "sacred".

If the army destroyed the building, as he believed, this meant it always wanted to target it.

Nihaya al-Jundi fumed that daily life was paralysed after every raid and that impassable roads left residents isolated.

Nur Shams needs international organizations like UNRWA to rebuild, said Jundi, whose center for the disabled was damaged and where the wheelchair ramp collapsed.

The camp, established in the early 1950s, was long a fairly quiet, tight-knit community.

But in recent years, armed movements have taken root there against a backdrop of violence between Palestinians and Israelis, economic insecurity and no political horizons.

- 'They worry' -

Two days after the Israeli operation, the internet was still not repaired and some main roads remained an obstacle course.

UNRWA's operations have resumed, however.

"The first thing we do is that we make sure that we announce that the schools are open," said the agency's Jabr Abu Taqa.

"We know how important it is for us to bring the children to what they consider a safe haven," she added.

As she strolled through the camp, many anxious residents approached her.

One young man pointed to a ransacked barber's shop and asked: "What did he do to deserve this, the barber? He no longer has work, money. What will he do?"

Mustafa Shibah, 70, worried about his grandchildren. He turned his radio's volume all the way up during the raids -- but the little ones were not fooled.

"My granddaughter wakes up (from the raids) and bursts into tears," he said.

"They worry, they have trouble getting to school because of the (damaged) road."

For him, the threats to UNRWA are just the latest example of the suffering of Nur Shams residents who feel abandoned by Palestinians elsewhere.

"Why is it only us that have to pay while they dance in Ramallah and have a good life in Hebron?" he asked.

He said Israel "feels they can do anything" with no one to stop them.