From May 20th to September 2nd of five years ago, the area saw fierce fighting between Fatah Al Islam militia and the Lebanese army. It all started in Tripoli, following a police raid on a home suspected of being used by the militia movement. This resulted in a first fire fight that continued in the camp where members of Fatah Al Islam had gone to live, it seems, at least a year earlier. At the end of May, the Lebanese army surrounded Nahr El Bared and began to shell it. The militia group resisted and people on both sides were killed. At the beginning of June a second attack was launched and missiles were fired, and civilians were beginning to be evacuated. At the end of August, the Lebanese army attacked five times and a number of civilians were killed as were some new refugees. The camp was effectively destroyed and the homes of those 26,000 who had temporarily moved to other areas set aside for refugees in the Lebanon, were looted.
None of the inhabitants will ever forget what happened in 2007, also because rebuilding begun by the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA), the agency that deals with Palestinian refugees, has not yet been completed and also because it is difficult to explain how foreign militants were able to establish themselves in the camp with who knows what foreign support.
The 19 members of the Central Committee say that no one ever asked those entering the camp for guarantees or detailed information, especially anyone stating they were loyal to the cause.
The price paid was very high. From that point on, the camp’s entrances have been guarded by the Lebanese army, which examines identity documents and vehicles. Recently, inspections have eased and coming in as a “guest” is not as difficult as it used to be, but it is useful to give advance notice of your visit. Until 2007, Nahr El Bared was a reasonably well-off town, with a booming economy and market, visited by Syrians and Lebanese. Those times are just a memory.
According to UNRWA figures, 95% of the buildings in the camp, between homes and infrastructure, were destroyed during the fighting. Almost 6,000 families today live in cargo containers, in extreme discomfort through a lack of space, hygiene and problems linked to water supply. The United Nations has begun a rebuilding project that is proceeding slowly at an estimated cost of $345 million. The first 300 families moved into their new homes in April 2011, another 300 in October. The work is a long way from completion. Construction on a new school near the sea is being completed, but the academic year has already begun, which means adapting to existing structures, for the time being.
Milal unties her hair and a cascade of curls cover her shoulders, “I decided not to cut my hair until things here return to what they were before.” She first worked at the Children and Youth Centre of the camp, but now she’s enrolled at the University of Tripoli and studies psychology. Her friend, Halil, who trained as a soldier with the Popular Front, now trains the children’s football team, both boys and girls. We take a tour of the camp in her dusty old car, which is still able to navigate potholes and hills with dignity. Milal knows and greets everyone, each according to their position. To people of faith, she greets them with blessings, to others it is a casual ‘hello, is everything okay?’ She parks close to the sea. The beach here is covered in debris, which the children walk through to go swimming.
Right front of us are new UNRWA houses. They are a yellow ochre colour, fixtures in the windows and clothes hanging out to dry. The roads are still too narrow, even though they are new, as if the camp template, which oppresses one’s vision and breathing, had no alternative, not even in its buildings. It is enough to leave this area and the situation changes radically. On one side are the buildings destroyed by the bombardment of 2007 that no one has rebuilt or demolished. Some are standing, completely disembowelled, while others have collapsed inwards with their walls stacked on top of each other.
Leaving the sea, the cargo containers are a short distance away. They are in rows and rusty, dark, worn out, especially those on the inside rows that the sun never reaches.
Houses close to the camp’s entrance check points are made of brick, with more space and roads in good condition. The Children and Youth Centre is here and is jointly managed with the Shatila refugee camp. Here it is managed by a group of women and girls who help the children do their homework and organize games. Shukkra, who runs the centre, speaks of the daily activities there. “Here the children are taught and study together, divided by age and subject.” There is a mathematics classroom and an English classroom, even if few teachers speak it.
The classrooms are immaculately kept and the kindergarten in on the on the ground floor. There is a small play area in the courtyard.
Nahr El Bared’s clinic was recently rebuilt. The walls are pink and lilac coloured with a platform at the entrance for disabled access. Two women are in the waiting room. The first room is for emergencies, with freshly painted blue walls, clean sheets on the beds and new chairs. The only things speaking of a far longer history among these bright colours are the rust-coloured oxygen cylinders, which pre-date the last rebuilding and perhaps from even before the creation of this health centre.
Translated by Francesca Simmons