Friday, April 19, 2024
Mona Alami*
"I lost my daughter, brother and sister in the Qana 2006 massacres (that saw the death of nine adults and 16 children)," says Mahmoud Chalhoub, a survivor of the bombings. "My son was left for dead and surrounded by corpses on the upper floor of a house in the village, which was targeted by the Israelis all night. He told us he had tried in vain to wake up his dead friend so that he could play with her."
Soha Bsat, communication officer for UNICEF, says around one-third of the Lebanese population was displaced during the conflict that pitted Israel against Hezbollah. Many of the displaced were children. Nearly two years after the war, many families are still unable to return to their homes.
"Besides the obvious distress children might have experienced when dealing with the traumatic death of a loved one, they also had to cope with an enormous change in lifestyle and environment," says Maha Damaj, child protection officer at UNICEF.
In the village of Tayri, Abbas survived the bombing of a civilian bus by an Israeli military drone aircraft, known in Lebanon as an MK. The 10-year-old was waving his white shirt from the window, using it as a flag for safe passage when the bus was hit by a rocket that left his mother with severe injuries. "He runs for cover whenever he hears the humming of a jet plane in the distance," says his aunt, Ibtissam Cheito, as Abbas hides behind the family car.
Besides having to deal with moving into a new home and starting a new school, children must also adapt to dangerous living conditions. "Since the summer of 2006, there have been around 298 victims of mines or cluster bombs, 76 of whom are children," says Damaj. "However, this figure is relatively low compared to the actual danger."
Children have been educated to identify and avoid possible threats, but teenagers remain at risk since they are more prone to defying authority, or try testing their limits. "Loss of limbs and concussions are common injuries," says Damaj. Children who are victims of cluster bombs or landmines are treated, but rarely attend follow-up sessions, leaving them in danger of never fully recovering.
Further aggravating the plight of Lebanon's children is the unstable political situation and the increased social polarisation along confessional lines. "Kids need stability and a routine," says Damaj. Strikes, booby trapped cars, and two wars – the 2006 July war as well as the Nahr El-Bared 2007 conflict that opposed the army to a terrorist group – have disturbed the lives of children, and have become a growing source of anxiety for them.
Sami Khodr, a handsome eight-year-old, was concerned about his mother when he learned she would attend the recent commemoration Feb. 14 for former prime minister Rafik Hariri. "What will I do if they place a bomb in the crowd? I will be left all alone! Who will I live with?" he asked. Such fears illustrate that children are indeed conscious of the instability plaguing the country.
"I forbid my son to watch the news to spare him images of violence," says Nibal Khodr. Damaj says the unstable Lebanese situation binds parents into an overprotective cycle, and shapes children's view of a world where violence is the norm. For Khodr, as a mother, surviving Lebanon has become a matter of "taking life one day at a time."
*This is the first of a two-part report on childhood in Lebanon.