Lives in limbo: The human stories behind the statistics of the Middle East refugee crisis

Of the 43.4 million people classed as refugees last year, more than a third came from this region. But what is life really like for those forced to uproot in search of sanctuary from war, climate change or economic deprivation? We hear their stories

Women at a malnutrition centre in the Tiamushro displaced persons camp in Kadugli, Sudan, wait to register for food for their children. AFP

Our journalists across the Middle East are lifting the lid on the refugee crisis and its impact. The other two parts of this series can be found here and here

The Middle East has long served as an origin, destination and transit point for global migration.

Just as the partition of Palestine, the end of the Ottoman Empire and European colonial rule sparked waves of migration, the modern Middle East has been rocked by wars on many fronts, economic crises and natural disasters worsened by climate change, which are sending people across borders seeking safety.

Five of the countries most fled from since the turn of the millennium are in the Middle East, North Africa and Asia – Afghanistan, Syria, Palestine, South Sudan and Sudan, according to UNHCR data.

In 2023, 117.3 million people worldwide were forcibly displaced or stateless. Just under half (68.3 million) were displaced internally, and 43.4 million were classed as refugees. Around 16.4 million of those are in the Middle East and North Africa region, according to UNHCR figures.

The burden has always fallen more heavily on neighbours to offer refuge in conflict and disaster. Iran, Turkey and Jordan are the nations that took in the most refugees over the past 24 years, hosting more than three million each. Iran’s refugees are almost all Afghans; Turkey’s almost all Syrians and Jordan hosts more Palestinians than any other state. Lebanon hosts the most refugees for each member of the population.

In the meantime, some refugee flows are being reversed amid good news and climbing political stability. Others are being forced to return to their homes after host nations declared them safe.

From one of the region's newest conflicts to those in stalemate, refugees told The National similar tales of smuggling, exploitation and impatience at a life on hold.

If you want to escape, cash is king

When civil war started in Sudan between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) last April, two years after a coup toppled the civilian-led transitional government, almost overnight seven million people were on the move out of conflict zones on foot, by bus and by ship.

To move through Sudan and cross the border into Egypt, which is hosting 748,000 registered Sudanese refugees and asylum seekers, many have discovered a price must be paid for their safety.

“Some of the checkpoints are controlled by the army and some are controlled by the RSF. At both, we were searched and had to remove our clothes,” said a 33-year-old Sudanese migrant. “They are relentless because they want to ensure that nobody leaves with anything precious. [SAF soldiers] went through my smartphone and made me log in to my banking app and transferred 10,000 Sudanese pounds.”

Sudanese refugees told The National they mostly arrived in Egypt’s southern province of Aswan after being smuggled over the border in pickup trucks.

“Once we got to Egypt, I started to feel safe. I have been here for the past eight years and it feels like home to me,” said the migrant, who returned to Sudan in March to collect his family and take them to safety. “Once we boarded the train to Cairo from Aswan, I knew we were safe and I knew that whatever problems we faced could be fixed by paying a bribe.”

The money keeps filtering away as the journey to safety progresses. A Sudanese migrant in Cairo said he paid a security officer 500 Egyptian pounds (around $10) and was allowed through with his mother, brother and two sisters.

Next is a bus ride to the capital to meet friends and family or seek out support and register as a refugee. Others choose not to register in fear of deportation if their cases are not deemed worthy.

Almost 18 months into the war, with ceasefire talks repeatedly failing to bear fruit, Egypt’s leaders say the economy is struggling to cope with the influx.

A decree issued last September now charges each Sudanese refugee in Egypt a $1,000 fee to legalise their status. This measure has been met with criticism from refugee advocates, who argue that many Sudanese migrants cannot afford such a high fee. The Egyptian government has not released information on how many paid, but deportations have also started.

Amnesty International said in June that Egypt had deported thousands of Sudanese refugees and asylum seekers, including children, to Sudan since the start of the civil war, with at least 800 deportations recorded between January and March this year.

Forced to return

Sudanese refugees are just the latest to experience being sent back into conflict zones by their host nations.

As Syria’s civil war looks set to remain in stasis and Syria’s President Bashar Al Assad slowly finds himself welcomed back into the international fold, some nations have decided it is time for their Syrian refugee populations to return.

That includes some of the more than 5.3 million Syrian refugees registered in Lebanon, Jordan, Iraq, Turkey, Egypt, and other countries.

However, armed conflict is still taking place in the north of the country, and the government continues to commit enforced disappearances on a large scale, Amnesty International investigations have found.

Those who return may find there is no home or infrastructure to welcome them after 13 years of war and the repercussions of a February 2023 earthquake that killed more than 55,000 people across Syria and Turkey. The aftermath claimed the lives of 5,900 people and caused further injuries, displacement, and damage to infrastructure that was affected by years of conflict.

Financially struggling Lebanon hosts the largest number of refugees per capita in the world, the vast majority of whom are Syrian. UNHCR and the Lebanese government estimate that there are more than 1.5 million Syrian refugees and asylum seekers living in Lebanon, making up around 25 to 30 per cent of Lebanon’s population.

Only 815,000 are registered with UNHCR. This is because the Lebanese state asked UNHCR to stop registering Syrians as refugees in 2015 – blurring the line between refugees and migrants.

More than 90 per cent of Syrian refugees live in extreme poverty, according to the UN, while less than a quarter have legal residency due to legal and bureaucratic restrictions. As a result, most Syrians are forced to work in the informal labour market, leaving them open to exploitation.

Those lacking legal residency – more than 83 per cent of Syrians in the country, according to UN estimates – have become hesitant to leave their homes since the Lebanese government’s crackdown against Syrian refugees began in late April.

Some, like 33-year-old Maher, now walk everywhere to avoid using public transport, fearing that flying security checkpoints might lead to their deportation. But in some parts of Lebanon where army raids on Syrian communities are not uncommon, even home has become dangerous.

“My husband slept in the orchards for weeks,” said Hala, a 32-year-old Syrian refugee from Hama. Hala and her family were expelled from the northern Lebanese town of Raashine in June, but her husband had stopped sleeping at the house long before their eviction. “He was scared of the army raids.”

Sleeping in the fields has become common practice for Syrians with no legal status because the cover provided by the trees makes it easier to evade the Lebanese army.

At least 1,763 Syrians have been forcibly deported or pushed back by the Lebanese Armed Forces, a humanitarian source told The National, while at least 430 others have been deported by the country’s General Security Agency.

Lebanon has grappled with a severe economic crisis since 2019. Even before the financial collapse, the country suffered from poor infrastructure and public services, high unemployment, and political mismanagement, leaving many resentful of the Syrian presence, seen as a strain on the country’s resources.

Politicians have exploited the financial crisis to cast further blame on Syrian refugees. Syrian refugees in Lebanon face discrimination when it comes to housing, employment, and education.

Resuming a normal life

As some are forced to return home, others choose to, as stability increases in their home nations.

Iraq has one of the largest returning populations, according to the International Organisation for Migration.

About 4.8 million Iraqis have returned home since they were forced to flee both internally and externally during the rise of ISIS, Imrul Islam, advocacy manager for the Norwegian Refugee Council in Iraq told The National, adding that this demonstrated the progress made by the country.

“This return is indicative of the progress Iraq – and Iraqis – have made towards recovery, and supported by government willingness to reintegrate families who were forced to flee their homes,” he said. “The communities we work with tell us they are ready to rebuild, and anxious to move forward with their lives. Naturally, there are challenges still to overcome to increase equitable access to education, housing and legal rights.”

Iraq’s north, which the extremist group used as a base for years until the area was liberated from ISIS in 2017, is slowly being rebuilt. The city of Mosul, one of the group’s former strongholds, now boasts renovated historic homes and famed landmarks restored to glory.

Almost 53,000 Iraqis returned from abroad between May 2018 and 2023, the majority coming from Turkey and Syria, the IOM found.

On the cusp of Europe and accessible due to land borders and visa availability, Turkey is a transit point for those fleeing conflict and disaster.

The UNHCR estimates Turkey is currently hosting 13,000 refugees and another 101,000 asylum seekers from Iraq, as well as more than three million Syrians.

Iraq still has its problems, preventing many from making a safe return. Although some chose to return from Turkey, others are still at threat from the country’s militias, funded and given almost free rein by the government during the fight against ISIS.

The National spoke to Iraqis who fled their homes from those militias and have been living in limbo in Turkey ever since, unable to work because they held temporary residency.

Journalists and those who helped the US army described waiting for visas for other nations for a decade, experiencing increasing anti-immigrant sentiment from the public in Turkey, a worrying trend given a potentially lengthy wait ahead.

Fadah Jassem, Khaled Yacoub Oweis, Lizzie Porter, Aveen Karim and Taylor Heyman contributed to this report