Three women stand together in the face of mounting difficulties, and hope for a better future.
These three women embody strength, and determination in the face of tremendous economic difficulties. They stand together as a reminder that even in the most challenging of circumstances, there is always hope for a better tomorrow.
In Lebanon’s Bekaa valley, amidst the rolling snow-capped mountains and green fields, a scene unfolds that encapsulates the strength of women and community. Hanaa, a Syrian refugee woman, stands barefoot on the soil. Donning a black dress and a yellow headscarf, her colors contrast against the earthy tones of her surroundings, as does her warm smile, which does not speak to the difficult life she had led so far. Her weathered hands, calloused from years of labor, deftly tend to the land with a sense of purpose and determination.
“See this marigold I planted? This is to keep the insects away from the vegetables we farm. We do not use any pesticide here, and I even prefer to tend to the land without my shoes on. The soil is full of life and demands respect,” she says.
Beside her are a team of other Lebanese and refugee women working the soil with practiced movement. Each action is deliberate, each gesture imbued with a deep respect for the earth and her generosity.
“This field gives us everything; a place where we can grow our food, talk, grieve, and breathe. Against the narrow spaces of our tents, the field has become a place for community and moments of respite, even as we work,” Hanaa says.
Having fled Syria in 2013, Hanaa and her community of friends live in a tented settlement in the Bekaa valley’s town of Saadnayel. Together with other Lebanese women, they cultivate crops based on the seasons and weather conditions prevalent in the area. In their attempt to stand against a crippling economic crisis and increasing hardships vulnerable people in Lebanon, including refugees are experiencing, these women are facing an uphill battle, but they are doing it together.
“In the winter, we harvest beetroot, cabbage, garlic, onion, carrots, and potatoes. In the summer, we pick tomatoes, beans, watermelon, eggplant, and cucumbers. Our winter yield is sown in autumn and harvested in the summer; and our summer crops are sown and harvested in the same year. We follow the earth’s rhythm and only use heirloom seeds,” Hanaa explains.
“Soon, Ramadan will come, and we will harvest all the ingredients that we will use in our dishes. Radishes, mint, parsley, and tomatoes for “fattouch” (a traditional Lebanese salad), always brings the family together during Iftar.”
As she labors under the sun’s unforgiving gaze, there is a quiet strength in her demeanor. Years of hardship and adversity have only served to fortify her resolve, shaping her into a skilled farmer who shares her knowledge with other women, Lebanese and refugees. Safaa and Souhaila, Hanaa’s friends, work beside her. For the past two years, she has passed her skills to them, and together, they cultivate the field to produce just enough food. This practice is not only a way of preserving traditional knowledge but also a means of developing a form of self-sufficiency within communities.
“I have passed down my knowledge to about 30 women so far, and together we tend to the land. When I am ill, Souhaila and Safaa do my part, as I do theirs when they are facing challenges.”
Originally from Akkar, north Lebanon, Souhaila now calls this field her home. Along with the other women, she pulls the weeds and turns the soil.
“Turnips are my favorite out of all the vegetables,” she says. “Having grown up in the north, I have always been close to agriculture, and now it is my saving grace, along with the friendship of these women.”
Lebanon continues to be the country with the greatest number of refugees per capita in the world and is currently experiencing the worst economic crisis in its modern history. The cost of necessities has skyrocketed. Food prices have increased by 3,000% since the onset of the crisis in October 2019, and the currency has lost more than 95% of its value, making it really hard for vulnerable families to meet their basic requirements. Nine out of ten Syrian refugees are in need of assistance.
UNHCR and its partners continue to support the most vulnerable refugees and Lebanese with humanitarian assistance. Public institutions, including hospitals and municipalities, have also received important support over the years to help them deliver services to all communities. But this is far from enough. More help for vulnerable refugees and Lebanese families is urgently needed.
“We all have our challenges, but we support one another. I believe in the power of the collective, of women standing together in the face of life’s adversities. Together, we make sure there is food on the table for everyone. Hunger knows no nationality,” Souhaila says.
According to the findings of the 2023 Vulnerability Assessment of Syrian refugees in Lebanon (VaSyR), only 5% of households are food secure, and another 53% are marginally food secure. In 2023, 88% of refugee families said they were in debt due to their inability to cater to their families’ essential needs. Food was cited by 90% of households as a cause of their debt, and grocery stores and shops were among the most common source of borrowing for most vulnerable families.
But for this band of women, they are writing a different story.
Hanaa closes her fingers around a handful of dirt, feeling its texture and warmth. For a moment, she forgets about all the hardships, and the difficult life she has led. She speaks of sowing seeds, nurturing them, and watching them grow into strong and healthy plants. She talks of harvesting and sharing the bounty with her community.
“This soil is the foundation of life, the beginning of the farming process. In it, there are so many living beings; so much to appreciate. I only wish that I could smell the scent of Syria’s soil again. I miss my home tremendously; the soil of the land that I once tended to and called home,” she laments.
The lives of these women are not centered on work, although it is big part of it.
As the afternoon sun begins to dip, the women gather for tea. They sit on the dirt and pass freshly brewed cups to one another, the aroma wafting through the air, mingling with the scent of marigolds, and newly turned soil. They speak of family, and their concerns as women. They share recipes, makeup tips, and what to wear on special occasions.
In this snapshot of rural life, Lebanese and refugee women cultivate their crops with love and heartbreak. Hanaa and Safa yearn for a better life, for a better place they can permanently call home, and Souhaila hopes for better days for Lebanon.
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