In Turkish-Funded Syria Camps, Tents Give Way to Homes

Internally displaced Syrians pictured in front of tents, before they became resident at a new housing complex in the opposition-held area of Bizaah, in the northern Aleppo governorate Bakr ALKASEM AFP
Internally displaced Syrians pictured in front of tents, before they became resident at a new housing complex in the opposition-held area of Bizaah, in the northern Aleppo governorate Bakr ALKASEM AFP
TT

In Turkish-Funded Syria Camps, Tents Give Way to Homes

Internally displaced Syrians pictured in front of tents, before they became resident at a new housing complex in the opposition-held area of Bizaah, in the northern Aleppo governorate Bakr ALKASEM AFP
Internally displaced Syrians pictured in front of tents, before they became resident at a new housing complex in the opposition-held area of Bizaah, in the northern Aleppo governorate Bakr ALKASEM AFP

Syrian mother of four Maryam al-Hussein was relieved to have a roof over her head as she moved from a tent camp into a housing complex built with Turkish support.

"When I first heard that we were moving into a house, I couldn't believe it," the 28-year-old widow told AFP in opposition-held northern Syria.

"I was so happy that I couldn't think of anything other than the move," she said, sitting outside her new concrete home.

The housing complex built near the Turkish-held Syrian city of Al-Bab is the latest in a series of residential projects sponsored by Ankara.

Turkey's goal is to create a so-called "safe zone" along its border to keep Syrians displaced by war from crossing into its territory, and to allow it to send back some of the millions who already did.

The housing units, branded by local officials and their Turkish sponsors as a humanitarian action to assist displaced families, could also serve as a model for initiatives to resettle Syrian refugees living in Turkey.

Turkey and its proxies have seized control of territory inside Syria during several military operations launched since 2016.

In these regions, the Turkish lira has become the main currency and Ankara has helped set up hospitals, post offices and schools that teach the Turkish language.

Turkish non-governmental group the Humanitarian Relief Foundation (IHH) said it has supported the construction of more than 18,000 residential units in Syria's north since 2019.

"More than 50,000 people have settled in the houses we have built so far," said IHH secretary general Durmus Aydin.

Aydin said that twice as many will be sheltered in a total of 24,325 homes due to be completed by April.

The latest housing complex was built near the opposition-held area of Bizaah with the support of Turkey's AFAD emergencies agency, local officials said.

It consists of 300 one-storey concrete units with large metal doors and small side windows.

Each unit is made up of two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom, and is equipped with its own water tank and costs about $2,500 to build, Aydin said.

They will be home to residents of a nearby displacement camp who were transferred there this month.

The complex -- which is one of many similar housing projects supported by AFAD -- includes a mosque and a school.

A medical center is currently under construction, local officials said.

For Maryam, the move marks a major upgrade from the dilapidated tent camps where she had lived with her father, brother and four children under harsh conditions.

Maryam, whose husband was killed in battles between opposition and Syrian regime forces, was displaced by war in 2019 and moved from one camp to another seeking refuge.

"In the winter, a house is better, because the rain does not seep in and in the summer it remains cool because stone deflects heat better than tents that turn into furnaces," she said.

Local official Hussein al-Issa, who oversees the resettlement of displaced families, said the Bizaah housing complex was built on land managed by an opposition-affiliated local council with "the full cooperation" of Turkey.

"These houses are temporary shelters for our displaced brothers," he said.

While many displaced families are grateful to Turkey for helping provide shelter, Mohammad Haj Moussa appeared dissatisfied.

"It's like we are lying to ourselves," the 38-year-old father of four told AFP.

"We want a (permanent) solution. We want to return to our homes," added Haj Moussa, who was displaced by war five year ago.

Since fleeing his home in the northwestern province of Idlib, Haj Moussa said he had moved from one displacement camp to another.

"This unit isn't too different" from the camps, he said. "It's a joke."

Nearby, Ahmed Mustafa Katouli said he was grateful to have a concrete roof over his head, but complained the units are too small.

"These houses do not make up for what we have lost," said the father of six, displaced from Aleppo with his wife nearly a decade ago.

"We have lost homes, land and martyrs," he said, adding that after years of surviving in tents, "I am forced to live here".



Lebanon's Public Schools Reopen amid War and Displacement

Children playing in a shelter center for displaced people in the town of Marwaniyah in South Lebanon (AP)
Children playing in a shelter center for displaced people in the town of Marwaniyah in South Lebanon (AP)
TT

Lebanon's Public Schools Reopen amid War and Displacement

Children playing in a shelter center for displaced people in the town of Marwaniyah in South Lebanon (AP)
Children playing in a shelter center for displaced people in the town of Marwaniyah in South Lebanon (AP)

In the quiet seaside town of Amchit, 45 minutes north of Beirut, public schools are finally in session again, alongside tens of thousands of internally displaced people who have made some of them a makeshift shelter.

As Israeli strikes on Lebanon escalated in September, hundreds of schools in Lebanon were either destroyed or closed due to damage or security concerns, according to the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA).

Of around 1,250 public schools in Lebanon, 505 schools have also been turned into temporary shelters for some of the 840,000 people internally displaced by the conflict, according to the Lebanese education ministry.

Last month, the ministry started a phased reopening, allowing 175,000 students - 38,000 of whom are displaced - to return to a learning environment that is still far from normal, Reuters reported.

At Amchit Secondary Public School, which now has 300 enrolled students and expects more as displaced families keep arriving, the once-familiar spaces have transformed to accommodate new realities.

Two-and-a-half months ago, the school was chosen as a shelter, school director Antoine Abdallah Zakhia said.

Today, laundry hangs from classroom windows, cars fill the playground that was once a bustling area, and hallways that used to echo with laughter now serve as resting areas for families seeking refuge.

Fadia Yahfoufi, a displaced woman living temporarily at the school, expressed gratitude mixed with longing.

"Of course, we wish to go back to our homes. No one feels comfortable except at home," she said.

Zeina Shukr, another displaced mother, voiced her concerns for her children's education.

"This year has been unfair. Some children are studying while others aren't. Either everyone studies, or the school year should be postponed," she said.

- EDUCATION WON'T STOP

OCHA said the phased plan to resume classes will enrol 175,000 students, including 38,000 displaced children, across 350 public schools not used as shelters.

"The educational process is one of the aspects of resistance to the aggression Lebanon is facing," Education Minister Abbas Halabi told Reuters

Halabi said the decision to resume the academic year was difficult as many displaced students and teachers were not psychologically prepared to return to school.

In an adjacent building at Amchit Secondary Public School, teachers and students are adjusting to a compressed three-day week, with seven class periods each day to maximize learning time.

Nour Kozhaya, a 16-year-old Amchit resident, remains optimistic. "Lebanon is at war, but education won't stop. We will continue to pursue our dreams," she said.

Teachers are adapting to the challenging conditions.

"Everyone is mentally exhausted ... after all this war is on all of us," Patrick Sakr, a 38-year-old physics teacher, said.

For Ahmad Ali Hajj Hassan, a displaced 17-year-old from the Bekaa region, the three-day school week presents a challenge, but not a deterrent.

"These are the conditions. We can study despite them," he said.