Let’s Not Forget

"You fight to survive. But at my age, survival is wearing thin. It demands strength, and our suffering reveals it,” says Khalil, 75, a Syrian refugee.

Abdul, Communications Officer for Medair Lebanon

Lebanon is home to more than 1.5 million refugees, many of whom live in overcrowded informal settlements scattered across the country. In these communities, families shelter in tented homes built from plastic sheets, plywood, and timber—structures that offer little protection from harsh weather conditions. As winter approaches, the threat of relentless rain, heavy snow, and strong winds looms large, putting these fragile shelters at risk of flooding or collapse.

Against the backdrop of it all, I joined our weatherproofing team working to help refugee families in informal settlements prepare for the coming winter. It was there that I met a man whose story reflects the quiet strength and enduring spirit of those who have lost so much yet continue to persevere.

Khalil, 75, a Syrian refugee, has spent years living in a tented home since fleeing Syria. What was meant to be temporary has stretched into a long, uncertain chapter of his life. He reminded me of my grandfather—God rest his soul—who passed away earlier this year. Khalil was soft-spoken and welcoming. His voice was hoarse and trembling, shaped by age and experience. The best way I can describe it is that it carried the weight of a long life. His presence brought comfort, much like my grandfather’s did when he would call me to sit beside him. I gently asked Khalil if he wouldn’t mind me getting to know him a little better—and perhaps, if he felt comfortable, sharing his story with me.

As I sat with Khalil, I found myself looking intently at him-taking in the details of his face, his posture, the kindness he carried. The lines of his face ran deep, carrying a depth of hardship and suffering. His eyes were soft, but they carried a quiet strength – as if they had witnessed more than words could express. His arms rested calmly on his lap. Rough and steady. His presence was grounding to me, as if inviting me into his world without needing to say much.

I want you to imagine the sound of Khalil’s voice while he tells me the following: “We fled with purpose—to save our lives. My wife and I left it all behind. I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. It will only be a while longer.’ But year after year, crisis after crisis, the struggle deepens. There isn’t much we can afford anymore. Medication, food, water—these are scarce now. And then something—someone—pulls you back to your senses. You keep going. You fight to survive. But at my age, survival is wearing thin. It demands strength, and our suffering reveals it. Yet we are human in the end. And sometimes, we just give in.”

Khalil pulls out an old bag and scatters its contents across the floor. He kneels, resting his arm on his knee for support. I see him and instinctively kneel beside him. He looks at me and says “Look at the empty packages of medications. Most of what you see in front of you, I can’t afford anymore. I cannot keep myself healthy anymore. Some of these are essential to keep me going. But with the little that we have, I’ve had to overlook most of my needs. We all live and die by the grace of God, and I accept my reality. All these years, and I’m still just trying to find my way back home.”

With the support of the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR), Medair teams are carrying out weatherproofing assessments, visiting refugee families living in informal settlements to evaluate their shelter conditions and help them to prepare for the upcoming harsh winter months. These efforts aim to ease the burden of extreme weather and ensure that families have the protection they need to stay safe and warm.

As we go about our daily lives, working, planning, and dreaming, it’s easy to overlook the struggles quietly unfolding around us. In our own moments of comfort, whether it’s the cool relief of summer air conditioning or the warmth of a winter jacket, during a routine visit to the pharmacy or sharing a meal with loved ones, we may forget that there are countless stories like Khalil’s. Let’s hold space for these stories. Let’s not forget.

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Medair's work in Lebanon is possible with funding from the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR), Lebanon Humanitarian Fund (LHF), German Federal Foreign Office (or AA), Chaîne du Bonheur, USAID and the generous support of the American People, Swiss Development Cooperation through Interaction-CH), Radiohjälpen, LM International and generous private donors.

This content was produced with resources gathered by Medair field and headquarters staff. The views expressed herein are those solely of Medair and should not be taken, in any way, to reflect the official opinion of any other organisation.

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