Israel's war on Hezbollah highlights the silent tragedy of migrant workers in Lebanon
Foreign migrants cannot access already overcrowded shelters and are exposed to Israeli bombs outdoors. A parish has opened its doors but dozens are crying for help every day. Migrants in Lebanon top 160,000, 65 per cent women, but they could be many more. Promises of repatriation by the Philippine government remain unfulfilled.
Beirut (AsiaNews) – Amid the war launched by Israel against Hezbollah in Lebanon, which is affecting the entire population, Christians included, another tragedy has been relegated to the margins of the news cycle and ignored by governments and the international community, that of migrant workers, especially from Asia and Africa, who have been living in Lebanon, many for years, and who now find themselves under Israeli bombs without shelter or prospects of repatriation.
Groups of immigrants have raised this critical issue faced with more Israeli airstrikes and unable to access shelters already crammed with Lebanon’s internally displaced, officially over 120,000 but the number could be up to a million.
In Lebanon’s chaos Lebanon, migrant workers from Ethiopia, the Philippines, Sri Lanka, and Sudan have come out of the perennial shadow in which they live to escape the bombings.
The Jesuit parish of St Joseph in Beirut is among those who have opened their doors and offered shelter to anyone in need, including tired and hungry women huddle around a table while others wait for a meal, their eyes and ears turned to Israeli drones and missiles.
Every day more people arrive, dozens if not hundreds from southern Lebanon, from the east, and from the southern suburbs of the capital, an area considered a stronghold of the pro-Iranian Hezbollah, and for this reason, targeted with greater intensity.
The church, once a daytime shelter for migrants, became an overnight refuge when Israeli airstrikes began, said Brother Michael Petro of the Jesuit Refugee Service.
"A family from our church arrived here (and) asked if they could stay. We said 'Yes', and the next morning 30 people arrived, and then (another) 50," said the American Jesuit. "On the first day, we called every shelter in the country. We could not find space, either because they were full or because we were told shelters will not accept migrants."
Yet, migrants “also need help", said Dea Hage Chahine, a Lebanese activist. "They are just invisible, like third-class" citizens, she said angrily, adding that migrant workers often "don't even have their own passports" or rights.
Kumiri Parara, a 48-year-old from Sri Lanka, arrived days ago with her 12-year-old son, fleeing Sidon, in the south, under the bombs. She has been in Lebanon for 20 years and was married to a Palestinian before divorcing, then finding work as a domestic worker.
This is the type of jobs that usually falls to immigrants, many of whom came from the island nation to earn money to support relatives back home.
Kumiri says that her employers have also fled, but she has no news of them.
According to data for 2023 from the International Organisation for Migration (IOM), more than 160,000 migrants work in Lebanon, 65 per cent women. In fact, the number is likely much higher, even if many remain underground because they are undocumented or are in a legal limbo that might lead to their expulsion if identified.
In addition, the vast majority are in Lebanon under the so-called kafala system, a sponsorship process that regulates the presence of foreign workers but allows abuses and violations of human rights by the "bosses".
The NGO Migrante International is one of the few voices to address the issue and the emergency. On Sunday, it organised an online meeting aimed, especially, at the Filipino community in Lebanon.
More than 11,000 Filipinos have been waiting for days to go home as promised by the Philippine government, finding themselves in limbo, unable to flee.
The evacuation should have begun immediately after the start of the much-feared ground invasion by the Israeli army but the issue remains unresolved.
During the conference, workers expressed frustration with what they believe was a slow response from their government.
For Joanna Concepcion, president of Migrante International, no one is “mentioning the difficulties or the current struggles our OFWs[*] are going through, which is why they are hesitant or unable to repatriate, nor are they sharing the full extent of the situation.”
Rachel Kiocho, a nail technician in Dahieh, described an alarming situation in an area hit by bombing: her employer fled suddenly, abandoning her and other people.
“It's somewhat safe, so I feel at ease, but I'm unsure how long this will last since there are reports of an impending ground attack,” she said. “I am calling on to rescue and help us. Many of us want to return home but are struggling with the process.”
Another migrant, Christine Lao, noted how the ongoing conflict has created a terrifying atmosphere for those still in Lebanon.
“After being here for so long, we never considered returning home, but now it has become a matter of life and death. We can no longer hold back,” she explained. “We have a child with us who keeps asking, ‘Are we going to die when the bombings happen?’”
Sharing her frustrating experience in the repatriation process, she noted that the embassy only sent links to fill out forms, and wait 20 days for an update. In fact, more than a month has passed without any development.
The delay is apparently due to their status as undocumented workers (TNT), but Lao wonders how it is possible to obtain updates (or correspondence) if the embassy’s immigration office remains closed for the war.
According to the Philippine Department of Migrant Workers (DMW), repatriation from Lebanon of just a dozen or more Filipinos has been rescheduled for 3 October. Originally, it was supposed to take place on 26 September.
[*] OFW, Overseas Filipino Worker.
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11/08/2017 20:05
07/11/2006
