A life shaped by land and continuity
Before the latest round of shelling, life in Majdal Selm was quiet. “We used to live a good, peaceful life in our village, living off the land and its blessings. We didn’t need anything from anyone except God.”
His words carry pride. The land was not simply where he lived; it was how he lived. Like many in southern Lebanon, his family cultivated land that had been passed down through generations. Work, food, and dignity were tightly bound together.
That continuity has been broken more than once.
Leaving without preparation
When shelling started in March, the decision to leave was immediate.
“We fled at once. We had no clothes with us. Our home was destroyed. The shelling was happening right above our heads.”
There was no time to gather belongings, secure documents, or plan a route. Fadel and his family left with no preparation and with no certainty about where they were going.
This is the reality of forced displacement in Lebanon today. Families depart within hours, leaving their homes indefinitely. For some older people, who may have limited mobility or ongoing health needs, the pain can be even sharper. Each displacement comes with added physical and emotional cost.
On the road, then by the sea
Reaching safety took time.
“At first, I stayed on the road for a full day and night until I reached Beirut. I had to change my clothes. I came wearing just a hoodie, slippers, and a worn‑out galabiya.”
With nowhere else to go, the family spent the night by the sea.
“We slept there, and at first light, we came here.”
“Here” is a university campus in Beirut that has been turned into an emergency shelter, one of many improvised spaces around the city absorbing thousands of displaced people.
Arrival marked the end of movement, but not the end of challenges.
Living among many, with little
The shelter is crowded, with minimal privacy and stretched resources.
In such conditions, responding to the needs of the “displaced” is not only about providing housing. It is about hygiene, personal safety, health, and dignity. These pressures can weigh heavily on older people who may face disruptions to care, have difficulty moving through crowded spaces, or experience higher exposure to illness.
Fadel does not describe himself as helpless. He speaks instead about what made daily life manageable at that critical moment.
Anticipatory action that made a difference
Before the escalation, Amel Association International, a HelpAge global network member operating in Lebanon, had already begun coordinating an anticipatory response – planning for displacement before it unfolded. When families like Omar’s arrived, assistance was available immediately.
Hygiene kits were distributed on arrival. Each designed to support a family for a month, and including soap, toothbrushes, towels, toilet paper, and detergent. These are simple items, but they matter.
For Fadel’s family, they helped stabilise daily life, protecting health, restoring routine, and preserving a sense of order at a time when most things had been stripped away.
Anticipatory action helped return some of the control Fadel, and others like him, would have lost due to displacement.
When displacement does not end
What Fadel’s story makes clear is this: displacement in Lebanon is no longer an exceptional event. It is recurring.
Families leave, return, rebuild – and leave again. Each time, the margin for recovery narrows. Preparedness becomes essential, not optional.
Early preparedness is about more than delivering supplies. It is about being ready to welcome people and empower them as decision‑makers in their own lives, even under extreme constraints. And this is something that can only be achieved by local organisations who are closer to communities and understand the risks and threats posed by external developments.
Holding on to meaning
Despite everything, Fadel does not frame his story through despair.
“Life is not always easy or kind. A person has to taste bitterness many times in order to truly appreciate the sweetness.”
His words are neither resignation nor complaint. They remind us that displacement does not erase a person’s sense of self.
Even after repeated upheaval, people continue to shape their own responses to what happens around them by drawing on experience and what still holds meaning. Fadel’s story is not only about loss, but about the ways people hold on, adapt, and move forward despite it.
