Along a large road in the Bekaa plain, early in the morning, Syrian men wait in small groups for any work for the day. “But there are fewer and fewer odd jobs. The daily wage is no longer worth anything. Before the crisis [la valeur de la livre libanaise a plongé sur le marché noir], we got by, we lived on. Since then, the prices have gone crazy. How are we going to make ends meet? “, worries Adnane Al-Hamoud, 28, from the Homs countryside in Syria and a refugee in Lebanon since 2013.
This father of three, an occasional construction worker, lives in a Deir Zanoun camp: around forty small white cubes pressed together on agricultural land, facing the solid buildings of the locality. . Other small so-called “informal” camps – because Lebanon does not recognize the existence of official camps for Syrian refugees, even if these places are organized – with tarpaulins maintained by tires, are installed a few hundred meters away. At the edge of the holey and muddy road, children come to seek the sun. There is nothing to do in the tents and the narrow aisles. The days there have become longer since the crisis leads to waiting and increases anxiety
According to a study published by UN agencies, nearly 90% of Syrian refugees now live in extreme poverty – up from 55% a year earlier. A flash acceleration, in a country in the midst of economic and financial collapse. “The most vulnerable communities, including Syrian refugees”, are “On the edge of the abyss”, can we read. The Lebanese authorities say that nearly 1.5 million displaced Syrians live in the territory, a figure higher than the number of families registered with the UN High Commissioner for Refugees. Among the Lebanese, the rate of extreme poverty has fallen from 8% to 23%. The population has fewer and fewer resources, with galloping inflation.
“We start from afar”
“The crisis grips everyone: Lebanese, Syrians. But we are starting from afar: life under a tarpaulin, sporadic work, insufficient humanitarian aid which does not benefit everyone ”, says the camp manager, a refugee in Lebanon for more than seven years, who prefers to remain anonymous. Food packages are brought in from time to time, but not in large enough numbers, the refugees deplore; oil, too, to heat the stoves, while the winter is freezing in the Bekaa valley. “People are not dying of hunger, but we are sinking into ever more dire poverty”, continues this former school director in Syria, who gives tutoring classes to children.
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