Syrian children of the scrapyard: This is wrong on so many levels
STANDING in a scrap-metal yard in northern Lebanon that doubles as tented settlement for Syrian families who these days are called “refugees”, two children before me play with a discarded microwave and bits of rusted iron.
These are the only “toys” they have.
Their innocence and obliviousness to the war that has made them impoverished makes one’s heart sink. Many Syrian refugees come from middle-class families and these are the circumstances in which they find themselves.
These children are now homeless.
And the children who are new born in this settlement will qualify neither for citizenship of their home country nor for the one in which they now find themselves.
These children will not just be homeless. They will be the stateless generation.
Yet, children adapt — they make toys out of rusted metal objects — as children invariably do. At least on a superficial level.
For I am reminded of a Slovenian NGO for whom I used to volunteer, The Foundation ‘Together’ for the Psychosocial WellBeing of Children Affected by War (aka “Skupaj”).
Predominantly focused on the fall-out from the early 1990s war in the former Yugoslavia, the agency had a wonderful operational model. For instance, it’d book a ramshackle hotel in the middle of Bosnia and invite teachers from local schools in the nearby region to attend sessions over a weekend where psychologists, trauma counsellors, family therapists, and other experts would give advice on how to help children overcome the scars of war (eg parents and/or friends killed) and also deal with the wider issue of trying to prevent a cycle of hatred. Example: How do you answer a child’s question such as “who started the war?’ without apportioning blame, without leaving a legacy of hate?
That agency is no longer in existence. For the sad reality is that, with an ever- increasing number of conflicts in the world, the funding for projects helping children affected by wars is proving to be a major challenge.
So now I’m walking around a refugee settlement in northern Lebanon looking at children affected by war and I’m thinking: This situation is wrong on so many levels.
I feel angry at the heartlessness of war, the injustice of innocent civilians — people who had peaceful lives in their own country and who would love to go home — now dependent on aid.
And aid which the World Food Program had to reduce earlier this year to €14 per month per person for food vouchers because it was so underfunded. Food, shelter, water, hygiene — these are the most basic of needs in these circumstances. And primary healthcare. Rightly so.
Yet, the psychosocial impact of war on children, and indeed, adults, comes way down the list of priorities when the desired funding levels for the basics continue to be a major challenge.
But, in northern Lebanon, I see seeds of hope.
I reach Tripoli, a heavily militarised city where some neighbourhoods are so peppered with bullet holes from previous conflicts and skirmishes that it doesn’t take much imagination to realise peace even here — inside a generous country hosting 1.2m Syrian refugees and countless thousands more undocumented ones — is fragile indeed.
I visit two psychosocial projects run by Concern Worldwide with local partners. The Irish agency is not alone in having difficulty sourcing funding for such psychosocial programmes that have the ability to transform individuals and communities.
In one, women from Syria, Palestine, and Lebanon work closely together to hand produce wonderfully crafted scarves, bags, and other items for the domestic market and export to Europe.
In the other, a men’s group — most of whom originate from the devastated rubble-pile that used to be their home town of Homs in Syria — is being regularly facilitated to address issues such as frustration at not being able to provide for their families (and they’re not allowed work, being refugees), not having family homes, domestic violence, the importance of how they say things as much as what they say, and more.
These are psychosocial programmes par excellence and peace building from the bottom up. And it becomes even more crucial when peace building from the top down seems to be going absolutely nowhere in Syria right now.
For therein lies the crux of the matter: the political resolve must be found to prevent another generation of children being born homeless, stateless and aid-dependent as a result of the protracted and tragic Syrian conflict. Children should be allowed to be children where they can be safe within their own homes.
So when Santa Claus arrives in Ireland, I’ll be thinking of those children of Syria playing with rusty metal “toys” in a Lebanese scrapyard they now call home...
And I’ll still feel angry.
Paul O’Mahony is the head of communications (Republic of Ireland), Concern Worldwide
