Lebanon was never meant to be a permanent home. When Syrian families began crossing the border in 2011 to escape crisis in their homeland, many assumed they would not be gone for long. But, well over a decade later, many Syrian refugees are still sheltering in Lebanon. There, they have survived economic collapse, the Beirut port explosion, the Covid-19 pandemic, repeated flare ups of violence, and now the ripple effects of a widening conflict between the United States, Israel and Iran.

While Syria underwent major political change in late 2024, the country remains in crisis. Hospitals, schools, and infrastructure have been devastated and reconstruction has barely begun. In many areas, safety cannot be guaranteed. For the families Farah Saifan works with every day, going home is not yet a real option, but still they hope.

Farah has been working as a Project Officer with Islamic Relief Lebanon for the last 10 years. Ahead of World Refugee Day, she describes the needs not being met and the challenges families continue to grapple with on a daily basis.

Shared experience

Lebanon has one of the world’s highest refugee populations per capita. That fact regularly appears in briefings and statements, but it doesn’t capture what Farah sees in the neighbourhoods, collective shelters, and homes she has come to know well.

“In many neighbourhoods, Lebanese families and refugee families live side by side, often facing very similar challenges,” Farah says. “Overcrowded housing, informal settlements, families struggling to meet basic needs: food, healthcare, education, rent.”

Years of economic collapse have hollowed out what stability remained for both refugee and host communities in Lebanon. For refugees already living on the margins, the little they had built up simply disappeared. For Lebanese families, the crisis brought hardships not seen since the country’s brutal civil war.

In her work Farah sees that resilience is a trait shared by both locals and refugee communities.

“Families continue to support each other, children continue to dream about their futures, and communities find ways to cope. But the reality is that many families — both refugees and host communities — still require humanitarian support to meet their basic needs and live with dignity.”

Losing more than a home

One pattern Farah keeps encountering is families who have been forced to uproot themselves not once, but multiple times.

“I have met families who fled their homes in Syria, spent years trying to rebuild their lives in Lebanon, and then suddenly found themselves having to pack their belongings and move again because of insecurity,” she says.

The most recent escalation of hostilities in Lebanon forced many such families to flee again. People who had spent years learning how to register children in schools, access healthcare with limited documentation, and keep a roof over their heads suddenly had to do it all over again.

“Imagine spending years trying to create a sense of [normality] for your children, only to face the fear and uncertainty of displacement all over again,” Farah says. “Many parents tell us that what worries them most is the impact on their children, who have grown up knowing instability and displacement as a normal part of life.

“These experiences remind us that displacement is not just about losing a home. It is about losing a sense of security, routine, and certainty about the future.”

The notebook

During the recent displacement crisis, Farah met a young girl in a collective shelter. While other children played around them, the girl quietly showed Farah a school notebook she had brought with her when her family fled. It was one of the only things she had made sure to take. She wanted to continue her education and become a teacher.

“What stayed with me was that, despite losing her home and facing so much uncertainty, she was still thinking about her future,” Farah says. “At a time when many adults were worried about shelter, food, and safety, she was worried about whether she would be able to continue learning. She reminded me that humanitarian crises are not only about immediate survival. They are also about protecting people’s hopes, aspirations, and future opportunities.”

Farah thinks carefully about how to tell the stories of the people she supports.

“When we focus only on vulnerability, we risk overlooking people’s strength, dignity, and ability to rebuild their lives,” she says. “The most respectful portrayal is one that recognises people not simply as refugees, but as individuals with skills, hopes, talents, and aspirations, who deserve the opportunity to live in safety and dignity.”

An overlooked need

“One of the most overlooked needs right now is a sense of stability and hope for the future,” Farah says. “Many of the families we meet have been living through crisis after crisis for years. They are incredibly resilient, but constant uncertainty takes a heavy toll.

“I often hear parents say that they can cope with hardship if they know things will eventually improve. But what is most difficult is not knowing what comes next. That uncertainty affects people’s mental wellbeing, decision-making, and ability to plan for the future.”

Families flee by car as hostilities escalate across Lebanon, 2026. Many of those on this road had already made this journey once before

Farah is upfront that, with so much upheaval, support is not always reaching those who need it most: families who have relocated so many times they have dropped off registration lists; elderly people living alone; female-headed households in remote areas; and one group she keeps coming back to: “Families who have been coping with crises for many years. Sometimes their needs become less visible because they are no longer part of a new emergency, yet they continue to struggle every day.”

The world responds to crises in their acute phase. The families Farah describes are in the twelfth or even fifteenth year of crisis.

A widening gap

“The humanitarian system is working in the sense that it is saving lives, providing essential assistance, and helping millions of people meet their basic needs,” Farah says. “But I would also say that we are responding to needs that continue to grow faster than the available resources.”

Funding shortfalls, competing crises, and shrinking donor attention have real consequences on the situation ground. In Lebanon, that can mean families who depended on food assistance find their access cut or reduced. Programmes that help children process years of trauma are scaled back. The gap between what is needed and what is available keeps widening.

“There are still significant gaps,” Farah says, “and many vulnerable people continue to need support.”

Opportunities, stability and safety

“For refugees, displacement is not a ‘one-day story’. It is something they live with every day,” Farah says. “Many refugee families in Lebanon have spent years — in some cases more than a decade — trying to rebuild their lives while facing uncertainty about their future, access to services, education, healthcare, and livelihoods.

“Refugees are not looking for sympathy. They are looking for opportunities, stability, safety, and the chance to live with dignity. Like anyone else, they want to provide for their families, see their children succeed, and have hope for the future.”

When asked what the people she serves would want to say to the world today, Farah doesn’t hesitate.

“I think many of them would simply say, ‘Please don’t forget us.’ Not because they want sympathy — but because they want the world to remember that displacement is not a temporary moment for many families. They want people to see them not as numbers or headlines, but as human beings with dreams, fears, and hopes for their children.”

Stand with them today and tomorrow

This World Refugee Day, Islamic Relief is continuing to provide food, shelter, protection services, and psychosocial support to refugee families and vulnerable host communities across Lebanon. But our ability to do so depends on sustained support.

Your generosity enables us to be by the sides of vulnerable people, not just on World Refugee Day, but every day that follows. Donate to Islamic Relief’s Lebanon Emergency Appeal today.