Syrians forced to survive on handouts during Ramadan

Umm Atef al-Darkouni sat in the corner of a hall in Sidon, in one of the complexes that hosts displaced Syrians. Ramadan brings back precious memories of better times for many refugees, and she reminisced about how things used to be in her home town of Qusair, before she was forced to flee.

“Before the Syrian revolution broke out, everything was beautiful,” she said, shying away from the camera so as not to be photographed. “We used to feed the poor and the needy and have mercy on the orphans. Our situation has been reversed ... we are now sitting at the tables of the good people.”

During the holy month of Ramadan people frequently offer donations and charity to those in need, providing Syrian refugees with meals to enjoy for iftar.

In the complex’s square, Amani al-Afifi’s tears ran down her face. She said she was saddened by how things had turned out for people.

Back home in rural Damascus province, she worked tailoring outfits, particularly sportswear. She said her family of five enjoyed good living conditions “until the protests kicked off in the name of freedom, [then we had to] to run from Damascus, leaving our livelihoods.”

“What happened is difficult [and] to sit here as charitable people bring food to you. Our lives have been destroyed.”

Syria’s civil war has run for more than four years now, displacing millions and forcing them to flee to neighboring countries. Many live in Lebanon in miserable conditions.

Nawal Ramadan jokingly quoted one of the most famous Syrian Ramadan series this year, Bab al-Hara, which deals with life in a Damascus neighborhood under the French mandate in the 1930s.

The director and writer should have focused on our own time “and film how the regime hits the city of Aleppo with barrel bombs and how ISIS is executing people like sheep and lashing women.”

“It would’ve been better,” she added bitterly.

Ramadan recalled good days back in Syria: the preparation of traditional dishes for iftar – different kinds of kebbeh, qamar al-din, jallab and desserts that adorned the table.

Though she cannot go back to the life she used to have, she said she still misses her country and prays to one day return.

“I wish could go back to what remains of my house, and break the fast with dry bread near Damascus.”

Women only occupied a small space in the complex’s square, as most of the space was taken over by men, children and youth enjoying food and juice. The situation among the men isn’t any better – several said they wished to go back home.

Abu Mahmoud fled to Lebanon three years ago with his family.

He said he has run out of the money he saved from his minimarket in Syria. Today, like many other refugees, he waits for aid from humanitarian organizations.

“I am hurting from the inside that this is happening to us,” he said.

Ramadan in Qusair was different, recalled Abu Mahmoud. Food was given to poor families and orphans took a big part in Ramadan iftars. Afterward they would go the mosque to pray and then to restaurants and coffee shops.

“Today we are sitting in rooms that are mostly dark, the electricity is cut off, and food for iftar and suhoor is being presented to us,” he said. “I hope that when next Ramadan comes we’re home, [even if it is just] rubble.”