Notes from a refugee camp about lives disrupted by war

Ever since the outbreak of the 2011 Syrian civil war, millions of Syrians have taken refuge in neighbouring countries. Jordan has shouldered the impact of a massive refugee influx across its borders, receiving 1.4 million Syrian refugees.

Today the country is home to Zaatari Refugee Camp, the second largest camp in the world inhabited by 80,000 Syrian refugees over three square miles of desert. When the camp first opened in 2012 (courtesy of the Jordanian government and the United Nations), the refugees lived in a sea of tents in a big, open desert. Today, the tents are gone but the refugees aren't.

They're now more settled than ever in row after row of shelters made of corrugated metal containers -'pre-fabricated caravans', they're called. After five years in limbo, the Syrians did what they do best: adjust. They are not sitting idle. They are not waiting for funds and donations. Instead, they've sought independence and have established a routine - as similar as possible given the circumstances - to the one they had back home in Syria, and with dignity.

The refugees have started 3,000 businesses and shops framing the popularly named street, Champs Elysees, and created their own communities. Their children, who make up more than half of the people in the camp, are enrolled in 29 schools that follow the Jordanian curriculum. They hold on to one hope: to go back to Syria.

Ismail misses school back in Syria, wants to be a hairdresser

Having left Daraa in southwestern Syria, Ismail, five years old, along with his parents and sister Lujain, six, made it to the camp only a month ago. Ismail is determined that he does not want to register in a school in the camp. "He stays up all night and doesn't wake up for school. I tried to convince him but he doesn't want to register. Unlike me, he doesn't know how to spell his own name," said his sister Lujain with a teasing smile.

"I know how to spell my name!" replied Ismail, with his big eyes shining, "I refuse to go to school here, I want to go back to my nursery in Syria," he says, as he turns his face, crosses his arms and shrugs. You can tell he's headstrong.

"Fine, prove your knowledge to me and count till 100," Lujain challenges him. Ismail, wearing a red and blue shirt, duly counts to 100. He wants to become a hairdresser. Lujain wants to become a science teacher. "I love studying science and my favourite teacher is my science teacher, Ms Abeer," said Lujain. Their father works in a neighbouring farm and comes 'home' on Thursdays.

Nayfa finds it difficult to walk around. Her kids don't call

"I need surgery; I find it hard to walk. A lot of times I'm in bed and cannot find anyone who can hand me a glass of water," says Nayfa Abdelqader, 57, mother of three. Fleeing her town near the city of As-Suwayda in Southwestern Syria in 2013, Abdelqader lives alone in the camp. Problems with her spinal discs and fatty tumors in her legs make it difficult to move. She's been getting treated for the past two years.

"My daughter and son are in Cairo with their children. My other son is in Europe," she says. "They're all married with children and barely call anymore to find out how I am". Working at the camp, she earns about 50 Jordanian Dinars. "It's enough to fund me for the month". Life in the camp is better, she says, than living in the city.

"The city is too big for me and I don't find access to services. I find it hard to walk around," she says, managing a smile. Her basic needs are medical services and an allowance. "I'm here (at the camp) till things get better. I would like to die in my homeland."

Jamila's daughter's sinusitis not helped by dust in the camp

Jamila Youssef walked for 30 minutes in the scorching heat, carrying her three-year-old daughter Retaj to the Big Heart Foundation Clinic to get her tonsils treated and to schedule a surgery. Jamila fled Syria with her four children five years ago and lives in the camp with them - two sons and two daughters. Her son Omar, a 6th grader at a school in the camp and the eldest among his siblings, accompanied his mother to the clinic. Jamila's daughter Retaj suffers from chronic sinusitis and tonsils hypertrophy due to the dust in the camp.

"The medical services in the camp are great and we are provided with the required medicines, but the dust is the only thing that bothers us," said Youssef. When asked what she misses most about her homeland, she said "my family, people and my home. I had to leave to look after my children's safety." She used to own a house back in Daraa but it no longer exists.

Ahmed likes studying about the rise and fall of nations

Ahmed Talib came to Zaatari Refugee Camp from Deraa three years ago. Now at 15, he's in the 9th grade and attends school within the camp. His favourite subject is history. He loves to learn about the rise and fall of nations. "We couldn't stand the bombings and shelling. My father was also wanted, so there was no way we could stay in Syria," said Talib, who lives with his parents. Sporting a calm smile and gelled hair, Talib says his family is content.

"My father has a job here and we have free treatment and education, so we wouldn't ask for anything else," the Syrian teenager added. "We just hope to return to Syria."

Want to help the refugee families? Consider a donation: donate.unhcr.org/gu-en/syria/

Source: Khaleej Times