Ceasefire offers little respite for Lebanon's displaced migrant workers as shelters close

Thousands remain stranded without a home, job, money or legal documents

Migrant women rest at a temporary shelter in Beirut run by the Jesuit Refugee Service. Photo: Jesuit Refugee Service

Despite the ceasefire bringing a semblance of calm to Lebanon, thousands of foreign workers left homeless by the months of conflict face an uncertain future as shelters close and jobs dry up.

With no government support in sight, many migrants who lost their accommodation and livelihoods have been left stranded in a country reeling from economic and political instability.

Many were laid off by their employers and forced on to the street, with NGO-run shelters taking in large numbers. But the majority of these shelters shuttered when the ceasefire was announced between Israel and Hezbollah on November 27. Rights groups said financial constraints were to blame, along with pressure from communities to reclaim the buildings.

The Jesuit Refugee Service, a charity operating in Lebanon, has announced that two Beirut migrant shelters will close by the end of January.

“The shelters were opened for temporary relief and now need to resume their normal activities,” Michael Petro, the group's project director for emergency shelter, told The National.

At the peak of the conflict, one of its shelters in central Beirut that catered to families housed 100 migrants. Mr Petro said the shelter is still home to 35 people including women and children. “The shelter is run from a church community centre and there is pressure from the community to resume normal operations,” he said.

The second shelter, in Bikfaya, Mount Lebanon, houses 42 women from Sierra Leone, many of whom are awaiting repatriation, he added.

The violence between Israel and Hezbollah, which escalated in October last year, displaced more than 1.2 million people. Southern Lebanese villages were levelled by Israeli bombings, while residential areas in Beirut’s suburbs were flattened. As Lebanese citizens fled to safety, many foreign migrant workers were abandoned by their bosses, forcing them to sleep rough or seek temporary refuge in shelters.

Community leaders such as Viany De Marceau, who heads Reman, a collective for African migrant workers, stepped in to help but they are now overwhelmed.

“To pay for rent, food and other needs of the women we took in requires money, which we don’t have,” said Ms De Marceau, a former domestic worker who runs a garment business in Beirut. “Many women were abandoned by their employers, who fled without paying salaries or ticket money. After the war, whatever little support we were receiving stopped. We couldn’t go on indefinitely.”

The Lebanese government also opened its own shelters across the nation after the war broke out, but foreign migrants were barred.

With the NGO-run shelters closing, many women migrants have been left to fend for themselves without a stable income. “The war stopped but their situation has not improved. It’s a hard road ahead for these women,” Ms De Marceau said.

The International Organisation for Migration estimates that Lebanon is home to about 175,000 foreign migrants, mostly from Ethiopia, Kenya, Bangladesh, the Philippines and Sri Lanka. Many work under exploitative conditions dictated by the kafala system, which binds them to an employer and offers no legal protection or recourse.

For some, returning home is not an option. Aisha, a Bangladeshi migrant, said she took out large loans to come to Lebanon and now cannot afford to return. “I am here to pay back my debt and take care of my family. I cannot just leave,” she said.

Aisha now lives in a shared apartment near Mount Lebanon, crammed into a single room with seven others. Her employer abandoned her during the war. “I have to find a job and hang on here. War or no war, I am not going back,” she said.

A housing crisis in Lebanon amid the economic collapse has only worsened due to widespread destruction from Israeli bombings in Beirut’s southern suburbs, where migrants once found affordable accommodation. “It has become almost impossible for migrants to find low-cost housing,” Mr Petro said.

A large cohort of male migrants, who often worked in agriculture, cleaning or other labour-intensive sectors, also face bleak prospects.

“Many agricultural workers, especially from Sudan and Bangladesh, have lost their livelihoods. The southern regions they worked in remain inaccessible,” Mr Petro said.

Repatriation efforts, which provided a lifeline during the conflict, have slowed to a halt. Countries that operated evacuation flights for their citizens at the height of the war are no longer helping those stranded. A representative for This is Lebanon, an NGO that helps with repatriation, said exorbitant ticket prices and a lack of documentation prevent many from leaving.

“Whole families are stranded without legal documents,” the representative said. “Now they are in an even more precarious situation where housing is more expensive and they cannot return to the south where they once had jobs.”

Dara Foi'Elle, policy and communications manager at Migrant Workers Action in Lebanon, said without institutional support, migrant-led NGOs and community leaders, "who are the real unsung heroes", cannot sustain their work.

"They are the people who make a real difference. But there are no grants or resources available at their disposal. Funds stopped coming immediately after the ceasefire."

The economic meltdown in Lebanon has compounded the crisis, with migrant workers falling through the cracks of a humanitarian response focused largely on Syrian and Palestinian refugees.

“Migrants are the least supported,” Mr Petro said.