Lebanese flee to Cyprus with the sounds of war 'living like a parasite in your head'

Thousands who have fled Israel's drones and bombs find safety but feel traumatised by what they have witnessed

Cyprus is the arrival point for many people fleeing Lebanon. Mohamad Al Ghandour for The National

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Clutching a packet of anti-depressants in one hand, Ramia, a bespectacled woman in her fifties, fumbles for her cigarette case in the arrival hall of Larnaca Airport in Cyprus.

She and her son Issa have just endured a harrowing journey from southern Lebanon, escaping relentless Israeli bombardment.

For many Lebanese fleeing the escalating war, the most common complaint is the lack of sleep, driven by the deafening blasts and the incessant drone of Israeli aircraft overhead. Even in safety abroad, those sounds will stay in their heads in the weeks and months to come, as they worry about family members left behind.

"It was like a horror film. We couldn't sleep," said Ramia, a Dutch citizen who lives in Germany but who returns to Lebanon each year. Only hours earlier, she and Issa had waited anxiously at the airport Beirut as bombs fell nearby. Dozens of their family members have been killed since Israel escalated its war against Lebanon two weeks ago, just as they landed for Issa's first visit in four years.

They were staying in southern Lebanon, near the city of Sidon, and the past weeks have been harrowing, surrounded by the near-constant sounds of war. "It's like living with parasites in your head," he said. The worst, he added, were the sonic booms. "It's just to scare people. It's killing you from the inside."

People from Lebanon form one of the largest diasporas in the world, with up to 14 million people of Lebanese origin living abroad, largely as a result of the civil war.

Even some of those who live on the other side of the country, where bombing has been scarce, appeared in shock as they touched down in Larnaca. Many said they would carry the trauma of war for some time and remained concern for those left behind.

"I can't return to Lebanon if the situation continues like this," said Sakina Wehbe, 60, from Tripoli, Lebanon's second city. "Those who have faced such horrors cannot live through them again. There is nothing but God. I hope God protects everyone and the country of Lebanon," she added, eyes brimming with tears. Ms Wehbe was among hundreds of Australians evacuated by their government in recent weeks.

The repeated cycles of conflict in Lebanon have not made it easier to endure. Instead, those fleeing speak of a deepening sense of vulnerability. "It's too much, we've had enough in Lebanon," said Vera, 57, travelling with her 90-year-old mother who is in a wheelchair.

"The situation in Beirut is very bad," said Vera. "There are planes all night, bombings. I couldn't sleep. People are scared. You can't move or use the car. Everything has stopped. There is no life." Pointing at her mother, she said: "She's happy. She's going to be with her grandsons in Australia."

Neighbourhoods attacked

Craving a break from the relentless noise and the smoke-filled view from her apartment of Dahieh – in Beirut's southern suburbs, the main target of Israeli attacks – Marie-Jose Daoud, 45, left this week with her parents for Cyprus, where her family own a holiday home.

She had booked tickets before Israel started bombing as a back-up plan. "I wanted to be sure we had a way out if it got really bad," she said.

It's a privilege, she acknowledges. "I'm lucky," said Ms Daoud, editor-in-chief at dialogue and peace journalism platform theWhatIf, noting that her European passport makes travel easier. In contrast, tens of thousands of Lebanese have fled via the land border with Syria, with more than 1.2 million displaced by the bombing.

Yet getting to the airport was a nerve-racking ordeal for Ms Daoud. In a viral thread on X, she described sitting in the airport, being able to identify the exact neighbourhoods – Bourj Al Barajneh or Choueifat – that were being bombed as she sat waiting for her flight to Cyprus.

It was a glimpse into how the war is experienced among her acquaintances.

"I have lots of friends in south Lebanon and in Dahieh," she said, referring to the that has been under nightly Israeli bombing for two weeks and where Hezbollah secretary general Hassan Nasrallah was killed on September 27. "I don't experience the war the same way as my friends who don't have contacts in the south."

In the days leading to her departure, Ms Daoud was sleeping at a friend's house in Kaslik, a seaside town north of Beirut. The contrast with the capital was striking. "All people talk about is war, but other than that, life is normal. You hear almost nothing," she told The National.

The Daoud family has a ticket to return to Beirut later this week, but their plans remain uncertain. "What we'll do is the million-dollar question," said Ms Daoud. Her elderly parents are deeply attached to their life in Beirut. "We'll see if we can push the return back a bit," she added.

Keep your distance

Israel's war on Hezbollah has included novel tactics, including remotely detonating pagers and walkie-talkies, causing fear among civilians, who have also been killed in its operations. Issa asked The National to not use his mother's real name for her safety.

"If you're walking, you keep a distance from the guy in front of you because you don't know if he's going to blow up," said Issa.

Hezbollah attacks on Israel since the invasion of Gaza caused the displacement of some 70,000 Israelis, sparking demands for the government to bring them home. Since last October, at least 2,000 Lebanese have lost their lives, with more than half the deaths occurring since the middle of last month. Israeli air strikes have eliminated much of Hezbollah's leadership and a ground invasion into southern Lebanon is expanding.

On Tuesday, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu warned Lebanon of a fate similar to war-ravaged Gaza unless they "free" their nation from Hezbollah's grip. The Israeli military deployed a fourth army division into south Lebanon, signalling it is expanding its fight with Hezbollah despite public criticism.

Addressing the European Parliament, the EU's foreign affairs chief Josep Borrell highlighted that it's Israel's fourth invasion of Lebanon, citing wars in 1978, 1982 and 2006.

“After each invasion, one has to ask whether its security has increased, or whether these have been tactical victories but strategic defeats," Mr Borrell said. "Many in Israel think that these actions have not made Israel safer. On the contrary, they have destabilised Israel's northern border and led to the birth and strengthening of Hezbollah."

'We're seen as the bad people'

Ramia, who has Dutch nationality and has lived in Berlin for decades, paid $1,500 per person, more than twice the average fare, for a flight home. She and Issa were scheduled to wait six hours at Larnaca Airport before catching connecting flights to Belgrade and finally Berlin. They said they were not contacted by the Dutch embassy for a flight home.

Issa said when he returns to Germany he will struggle to reconcile the West's attitude towards Hezbollah, where it is designated a terror group, with the devastation he has witnessed in Lebanon.

"I feel like I'm in the wrong world. You see what happened to your country but outside Lebanon, we are the bad people," he said. "The whole region is bad. It gets destroyed and killed and that's considered normal."

Issa also expressed concern over the lack of solidarity in Lebanon for Shiites, who form the bulk of Hezbollah's support.

His family will not leave the region of Sidon. "Nowhere is safe," said Issa. "People think if I get bombed, it might as well be at home."

Leila, 73, from the Chouf region, echoed the worry over those who choose to stay. "There’s deep concern for those remaining in Lebanon. We don’t know when this will end or what will happen to them, whether they’ll be able to stay on their land," she said.

Escape routes

Despite those attitudes, hundreds of dual citizens and foreigners have benefitted from emergency flights organised by countries such as Australia, Russia, China, the UK and France. As the EU country closest to Lebanon, Cyprus is one of the preferred transit destinations.

"The trip was really comfortable and organised," said Layan, 30, as her excited son tugged at her sleeve, shouting "Australia, Australia!"

They had just touched down in Larnaca on an Australian government-organised flight, one of seven so far for citizens seeking to escape the conflict.

Under the blazing sun, Australian officials greeted passengers on the tarmac with water, apples and sweets before quickly taken by bus them to their connecting flight. About 15,000 Australians normally reside in Lebanon.

Most of those bound for Australia lived in Tripoli, a city with a Sunni-Muslim majority largely opposed to Hezbollah. The situation there has remained calm, aside from an Israeli strike on Saturday that killed a Hamas commander, his wife and two daughters in a Palestinian camp.

“It’s sad, it’s very sad what’s happening, it’s very heartbreaking," said Aya, a 27-year old personal trainer. "A lot of people came from Beirut to Tripoli ... it’s very crowded there, so we had to get out."

Rebuilding lives

Others, like Ali, a 40-year old businessman who has lived in Brazil for five years, are still waiting to reach their final destination.

Ali returned to Lebanon last week to secure a safer home for his family away from Dahieh and brought them to Baabda, north of the capital, before he took first flight back to Brazil.

Now in limbo, he hopes his family will soon be able to join him in Brazil, which started organising flights out of Lebanon on October 6. "I don't know if my house in Dahieh is still standing," he said. "Everyone's left and it's too dangerous to return to check on the situation. You risk being bombed."

Despite the destruction, Ali refuses to despair. "Unfortunately, every so often, war sets people back by a decade, undoing all the progress and achievements they’ve made. It makes us feel like we’re constantly starting from scratch – rebuilding careers, lives and everything we’ve worked for," he said, sitting on a bench overlooking the Mediterranean in Larnaca. "But despite it all, this is our country, our home and our land. We have to return. We can’t simply give up on it.”