After hours classes let Syrian refugee children continue studies

News Stories, 13 January 2014

© UNHCR/M.Hofer
Tarek relaxes with his mother, grandmother and a sister in Arsal, Lebanon. He has been able to resume his studies after fleeing Qusayr in Syria.

ARSAL, Lebanon, January 13 (UNHCR) When their home town of Qusayr came under siege last year and the whole family had to sleep rough in hastily dug bunkers to avoid the nightly bombardment, each morning Rabia dressed her two older children, aged 15 and 12, and sent them off to school.

It was a schedule that the 37-year-old mother kept to even with war planes roaring overhead. The children would run, often barefoot, and the teacher would send them home if the shelling became too intense, but Rabia kept them going.

Last November, the family arrived exhausted as refugees in Lebanon, after a fresh offensive in Syria's Qalamoun region drove them across the mountains and into the town of Arsal. The very next morning the two children spotted the only school bus in the mountainside town and chased it down, pleading to be let on board despite their fatigue.

Many Syrian children are missing school as a result of the almost three-year-long civil war. But some are missing it more than others. For refugee families like Rabia's, it has been the most important goal, more important she insists than a warm place to sleep, more important even than her children's security.

"We've lived in terror for three years. We've been cold for three years. But what I cannot bear is to have my kids without an education," she said one afternoon recently, adding: "We have lost everything from this war. Should our children lose their education as well?"

The family is now living in a single room in a mosque overlooking the snow-capped mountains along the Syrian border. It is cold. But Rabia says she does not care about that.

"What are the consequences of war? Destruction and ignorance. I don't want my children to be a part of this. I don't want to give up because of a war," said Rabia. "I am doing everything I can so that they are not illiterate and so that they can continue to learn."

That spirit has recently met with some success. Rabia's oldest son, 15-year-old Tarek, and his brother, managed to enrol in school for the first time since fleeing Qusayr. It is part of a new programme in Lebanon designed to enrol more Syrian children in school.

The two boys are taking advantage of a second shift, funded by UNHCR, in which children begin their school day after regular school hours. In the town of Arsal, where half the people are now Syrian refugees, it's a way to accommodate the influx. Even with the new changes, more than one half of Syrian children in Lebanon are still not in school.

Rabia's struggle to educate her children, against the odds, underscores the difficulties Syrian families face as a result of the Syria crisis, which began in March 2011, and how, despite those obstacles, many are looking to their children's future regardless.

"I was never able to learn to read," Tarek's grandmother, Hasnaa, who is about 70 years old, explained. She grew up on a farm in northern Syria. While her parents sent her four brothers to school, she and her three sisters stayed home. Illiterate, she decided that her own daughters would not suffer the same fate. "It wasn't fair but those were different times," she said.

Hasnaa hid her illiteracy from her own nine children, pretending to understand their homework assignments. She put all of them, eight girls and one boy, through secondary school, despite losing her husband at a young age and having to raise them on her own. Five went on to higher education.

Her daughter Rabia got a First in Agriculture. "Now they can be independent," says Hasnaa of her daughters, most of whom are still in Syria. "They can provide for their own families. And send them to school as well."

Like mother like daughter. Rabia's son Tarek admits to being "a little" afraid when he was running to school last year back in Qusayr. One day he sat exams and got home just as the bombs started following along the street he took from school. His mother says that Tarek's father was more afraid for him than he was for himself.

Tarek says he wants to be an IT engineer when he grows up. There is calmness to his demeanour, despite all that he has been through. He is a quiet boy. But like his mother and grandmother, he knows what he wants.

By Andrew Purvis in Arsal, Lebanon

• DONATE NOW •

 

• GET INVOLVED • • STAY INFORMED •

UNHCR country pages

2008 Nansen Refugee Award

The UN refugee agency has named the British coordinator of a UN-run mine clearance programme in southern Lebanon and his civilian staff, including almost 1,000 Lebanese mine clearers, as the winners of the 2008 Nansen Refugee Award.

Christopher Clark, a former officer with the British armed forces, became manager of the UN Mine Action Coordination Centre-South Lebanon (UNMACC-SL) n 2003. His teams have detected and destroyed tons of unexploded ordnance (UXO) and tens of thousands of mines. This includes almost 145,000 submunitions (bomblets from cluster-bombs) found in southern Lebanon since the five-week war of mid-2006.

Their work helped enable the return home of almost 1 million Lebanese uprooted by the conflict. But there has been a cost – 13 mine clearers have been killed, while a further 38 have suffered cluster-bomb injuries since 2006. Southern Lebanon is once more thriving with life and industry, while the process of reconstruction continues apace thanks, in large part, to the work of the 2008 Nansen Award winners.

2008 Nansen Refugee Award

Lebanese Returnees Receive Aid

UNHCR started distributing emergency relief aid in devastated southern Lebanese villages in the second half of August. Items such as tents, plastic sheeting and blankets are being distributed to the most vulnerable. UNHCR supplies are being taken from stockpiles in Beirut, Sidon and Tyre and continue to arrive in Lebanon by air, sea and road.

Although 90 percent of the displaced returned within days of the August 14 ceasefire, many Lebanese have been unable to move back into their homes and have been staying with family or in shelters, while a few thousand have remained in Syria.

Since the crisis began in mid-July, UNHCR has moved 1,553 tons of supplies into Syria and Lebanon for the victims of the fighting. That has included nearly 15,000 tents, 154,510 blankets, 53,633 mattresses and 13,474 kitchen sets. The refugee agency has imported five trucks and 15 more are en route.

Posted on 29 August 2006

Lebanese Returnees Receive Aid

Lebanon Crisis: UNHCR Gears Up

The UN refugee agency is gearing up for a multi-million-dollar operation in the Middle East aimed at assisting tens of thousands of people displaced by the current crisis in Lebanon.

Conditions for fleeing Lebanese seeking refuge in the mountain areas north of Beirut are precarious, with relief supplies needed urgently to cope with the growing number of displaced. More than 80,0000 people have fled to the Aley valley north of Beirut. Some 38,000 of them are living in schools.

In close collaboration with local authorities, UNHCR teams have been working in the mountain regions since early last week, assessing the situation and buying supplies, particularly mattresses, to help ease the strain on those living in public buildings.

Lebanon Crisis: UNHCR Gears Up

Responding to Syria's Tragedy Play video

Responding to Syria's Tragedy

As Syria's war heads towards a fifth year, the United Nations and partners today launched a major new humanitarian and development appeal, requesting over US$8.4 billion in funds to help nearly 18 million people in Syria and across the region in 2015
Lebanon: The Natural HumanitarianPlay video

Lebanon: The Natural Humanitarian

In Lebanon, UNHCR refugee volunteers are helping their fellow Syrians to adjust to life in exile. This is the story of one – Dr. Ahmed, a 45-year-old dermatologist who fled to Lebanon in 2011 and now travels through Tripoli, caring for the wounded.
Statelessness in Lebanon: Leal's StoryPlay video

Statelessness in Lebanon: Leal's Story

"To be stateless is like you don't exist, you simply don't exist. You live in a parallel world with no proof of your identity," says Leal.