20 June is World Refugee Day, and my short morning walk to the American University of Beirut (AUB) provides a daily and grim taste of the global refugee crisis. At 8:50am I take a right out of my Beirut flat onto a bustling and polluted Lebanese street. I live opposite a cheap hotel that hosts medical tourists – Iraqis, mainly – due to crippling of health systems in the region. A quick glance to my left and I’ll see two women outside a supermarket holding babies and pleading with ingoing shoppers for a small bottle of milk. To my right I see a large but flattened cardboard box, knowing this will soon become the cushion for a young mother and her two children. I’ll see them on my way home and I’ll worry about the toddler, who looks thin and tends to wander into the road.
By 8:55am I’m on a steep descend towards the main entrance of AUB. As I pass by a beautifully colourful series of flower shops on my left, I see an elderly man in plain clothes sitting on a white, plastic chair and holding a cup of tea. He has an expressionless face, he has damaged red skin around his ankles, he is obese, and he is silent. We exchange a look and I feel despair; not just for him, but for the nine year old girl who used to be in his place up until April this year. Also silent, she would sit and curiously watch passers go by. She was from Aleppo, a city brought down to its knees in recent years, and she told me her mum wouldn’t let her go to school in Lebanon. I dare not ask the elderly man what happened to her, but let’s not be under illusions – gender-based violence and early marriage are a feature of armed conflicts. (more…)