‘I Am Dead Here’: Lebanese Join Mideast Migrants to Europe

A cargo ship navigates the Mediterranean Sea along the coastline of northern city of Tripoli, Lebanon, Monday, Dec. 6, 2021. Lebanese are setting off from the port city of Tripoli to attempt the perilous journey by boat to Cyprus and beyond in the hopes of reaching Europe. They are joining Iraqis, Afghans and Sudanese in leaving their homeland after Lebanon's economic collapse has thrown two-thirds of the population into poverty in just over a year. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
A cargo ship navigates the Mediterranean Sea along the coastline of northern city of Tripoli, Lebanon, Monday, Dec. 6, 2021. Lebanese are setting off from the port city of Tripoli to attempt the perilous journey by boat to Cyprus and beyond in the hopes of reaching Europe. They are joining Iraqis, Afghans and Sudanese in leaving their homeland after Lebanon's economic collapse has thrown two-thirds of the population into poverty in just over a year. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
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‘I Am Dead Here’: Lebanese Join Mideast Migrants to Europe

A cargo ship navigates the Mediterranean Sea along the coastline of northern city of Tripoli, Lebanon, Monday, Dec. 6, 2021. Lebanese are setting off from the port city of Tripoli to attempt the perilous journey by boat to Cyprus and beyond in the hopes of reaching Europe. They are joining Iraqis, Afghans and Sudanese in leaving their homeland after Lebanon's economic collapse has thrown two-thirds of the population into poverty in just over a year. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
A cargo ship navigates the Mediterranean Sea along the coastline of northern city of Tripoli, Lebanon, Monday, Dec. 6, 2021. Lebanese are setting off from the port city of Tripoli to attempt the perilous journey by boat to Cyprus and beyond in the hopes of reaching Europe. They are joining Iraqis, Afghans and Sudanese in leaving their homeland after Lebanon's economic collapse has thrown two-thirds of the population into poverty in just over a year. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)

Ziad Hilweh knew his family might die on the way. But the risk was worth it, he said, to reach the shores of Europe for a new start with his wife and three kids, away from the daily humiliation of life in Lebanon.

The country’s economic meltdown had destroyed him. The currency crash meant that the value of his salary from working at a private security company fell from $650 a month to about $50 after the Lebanese pound lost more than 90% of its value in less than two years. It reached the point the 22-year-old could no longer afford milk and diapers for his children.

But the young father’s hopes of a better future were shattered last month, when the boat they were on board headed to Italy broke down in the Mediterranean Sea, hours after they set off from the outskirts of Lebanon’s port city of Tripoli. Along with dozens of other would-be migrants on the boat, they were towed back to shore by the navy after a terrifying attempt at escaping, The Associated Press reported.

For years, Lebanon has been a host for refugees, mainly from Syria, but now it is a departure point. Hundreds of Lebanese have tried to reach Europe this year on boats from their country’s shores, spurred by a devastating economic crisis that has thrown two thirds of the population into poverty since October 2019.

It is not a route on the scale of the main sea path from Turkey to Greece used by many refugees and migrants. But it is a startling shift as Lebanese join Iraqis, Afghans, Sudanese and other Middle Eastern nationalities in leaving their homelands.

Sea departures from Lebanon have increased starting in 2020, compared to previous years, said Lisa Abou Khaled, spokeswoman for the UN refugee agency. According to UNHCR figures, more than 1,570 people embarked or attempted to embark from Lebanon between January and November, most heading for Cyprus. The majority have been Syrians, but Abou Khaled said a notable number of Lebanese have joined them.

“It is evident that these are desperate journeys undertaken by people who see no way of survival in Lebanon,” said Abou Khaled.

The country is witnessing a frightening convergence of multiple crises, including political instability, the coronavirus pandemic and a massive explosion at the capital’s main port in August last year that have all added to the financial unravelling of the country.

‘I AM DEAD HERE’

Hilweh had been growing more desperate with each day. For months, he asked relatives and friends to help him financially. Chatting with friends one night, he heard that smugglers were taking people to Europe, and that some have already made it there.

He and a close friend, Bilal Moussa, decided to give it a try. Hilweh decided to take his wife and children, while Moussa planned to go alone and apply for family reunification once he settles in Europe.

They were told it would cost $4,000 for each adult and $2,000 for a child. Hilweh sold his apartment and his car and borrowed some from relatives. He was still short, but the smuggler gave him a discount and took the $10,000 Hilweh had, instead of $14,000.

“I am dead here and might die on the way. But if I reach the destination, I can live a decent life,” Moussa said.

The smuggler told them to meet at a location near Tripoli’s Abu Ali river shortly before midnight on Friday, Nov. 19, and that 70 people would be on the boat. At the location, they were put into a covered produce truck and driven to Qalamoun, just south of Tripoli.

There, at an abandoned resort, they boarded the wooden boat with their belongings. Around midnight, as they left shore, the smuggler began reading the names of people on board.

There were 92, instead of 70, including about two dozen Syrian and Palestinian refugees.

A TERRIFYING RIDE

They quickly ran into trouble. A Lebanese navy ship approached the boat, ordering them through loudspeakers to turn back. The captain ignored their calls and kept moving west.

The navy ship circled them, causing waves that shook the boat and threw water inside. The shaking grew more violent as the ship drew closer, filling it with more water that pushed it down. The screaming passengers spread out around the boat to balance it and threw bags into the sea to keep it afloat.

Hilweh’s wife and children were sitting near the engine, and when the boat flooded with water, thick smoke poured out. His 3-month-old son Karim stopped breathing and almost suffocated, he said.

“He lived and died in front of me,” he said, recalling the panic before Karim was breathing again.

“I started reciting the shahada,” said Hilweh’s wife, Alaa Khodor, 22, referring to the profession of faith in Islam that Muslims recite when close to death.

Eventually, the boat stabilized, and they kept moving west while the navy chased them. Looking at a screen, the boat’s captain shouted that they had left Lebanon’s territorial waters. Immediately, the navy ship turned back.

“I felt very happy. I am out of Lebanon. I have crossed the line of humiliation,” Hilweh recounted. He celebrated by hugging his wife and two daughters, Rana, 3, and Jana, 2.

BACK AND BROKEN

Their relief was short-lived. Shortly before sunrise, the water-logged engine gave out completely. Stalled in the darkness and silence, the frightened passengers frantically called relatives in Lebanon to tell the military they needed help.

Hours later, the Lebanese navy finally arrived and towed the boat back.

“Once the boat stopped, I felt everything go dark, I felt devastated,” Hilweh said. “When we arrived back I had tears in my eyes.”

Back in Tripoli, the men were separated from the women and children and questioned for hours. The smuggler is still in detention, Hilweh said.

Tripoli is Lebanon’s most impoverished city. Its mayor, Riad Yamak, said that last year, several people drowned off the coast of Tripoli while trying to reach Europe.

Last year, a boat taking migrants to Cyprus ran out of diesel and was stranded for eight days, during which at least six persons died. The UN peacekeeping forces in Lebanon, known as UNIFIL, rescued the rest and handed them over to Lebanese authorities after giving them first aid.

“This is suicide when someone takes his family by sea,” Yamak said.

Hilweh and his wife disagree. They have already lost their apartment, their car and Hilweh’s job. They said they will keep trying until they make it to Europe even if this means putting their lives and those of their kids in danger again.

“I will take any danger to get out of here. There is nothing here,” Khodor said.



Gazans’ Daily Struggle for Water After Deadly Israeli Strike

 Palestinians wait for donated food at a community kitchen in Gaza City, in the northern Gaza Strip, Monday, July 14, 2025. (AP)
Palestinians wait for donated food at a community kitchen in Gaza City, in the northern Gaza Strip, Monday, July 14, 2025. (AP)
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Gazans’ Daily Struggle for Water After Deadly Israeli Strike

 Palestinians wait for donated food at a community kitchen in Gaza City, in the northern Gaza Strip, Monday, July 14, 2025. (AP)
Palestinians wait for donated food at a community kitchen in Gaza City, in the northern Gaza Strip, Monday, July 14, 2025. (AP)

The al-Manasra family rarely get enough water for both drinking and washing after their daily trudge to a Gaza distribution point like the one where eight people were killed on Sunday in a strike that Israel's military said had missed its target.

Living in a tent camp by the ruins of a smashed concrete building in Gaza City, the family say their children are already suffering from diarrhea and skin maladies and from the lack of clean water, and they fear worse to come.

"There's no water, our children have been infected with scabies, there are no hospitals to go to and no medications," said Akram Manasra, 51.

He had set off on Monday for a local water tap with three of his daughters, each of them carrying two heavy plastic containers in Gaza's blazing summer heat, but they only managed to fill two - barely enough for the family of 10.

Gaza's lack of clean water after 21 months of war and four months of Israeli blockade is already having "devastating impacts on public health" the United Nations humanitarian agency OCHA said in a report this month.

For people queuing at a water distribution point on Sunday it was fatal. A missile that Israel said had targeted fighters but malfunctioned hit a queue of people waiting to collect water at the Nuseirat refugee camp.

Israel's blockade of fuel along with the difficulty in accessing wells and desalination plants in zones controlled by the Israeli military is severely constraining water, sanitation and hygiene services according to OCHA.

Fuel shortages have also hit waste and sewage services, risking more contamination of the tiny, crowded territory's dwindling water supply, and diseases causing diarrhea and jaundice are spreading among people crammed into shelters and weakened by hunger.

"If electricity was allowed to desalination plants the problem of a lethal lack of water, which is what's becoming the situation now in Gaza, would be changed within 24 hours," said James Elder, the spokesperson for the UN's children's agency UNICEF.

"What possible reason can there be for denying of a legitimate amount of water that a family needs?" he added.

COGAT, the Israeli military aid coordination agency, did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

Last week, an Israeli military official said that Israel was allowing sufficient fuel into Gaza but that its distribution around the enclave was not under Israel's purview.

THIRSTY AND DIRTY

For the Manasra family, like others in Gaza, the daily toil of finding water is exhausting and often fruitless.

Inside their tent the family tries to maintain hygiene by sweeping. But there is no water for proper cleaning and sometimes they are unable to wash dishes from their meager meals for several days at a time.

Manasra sat in the tent and showed how one of his young daughters had angry red marks across her back from what he said a doctor had told them was a skin infection caused by the lack of clean water.

They maintain a strict regimen of water use by priority.

After pouring their two containers of water from the distribution point into a broken plastic water butt by their tent, they use it to clean themselves from the tap, using their hands to spoon it over their heads and bodies.

Water that runs off into the basin underneath is then used for dishes and after that - now grey and dirty - for clothes.

"How is this going to be enough for 10 people? For the showering, washing, dish washing, and the washing of the covers. It's been three months; we haven't washed the covers, and the weather is hot," Manasra said.

His wife, Umm Khaled, sat washing clothes in a tiny puddle of water at the bottom of a bucket - all that was left after the more urgent requirements of drinking and cooking.

"My daughter was very sick from the heat rash and the scabies. I went to several doctors for her and they prescribed many medications. Two of my children yesterday, one had diarrhea and vomiting and the other had fever and infections from the dirty water," she said.