This is Sami Amr’s second trip to the local rubbish tip in one day. The thirteen
year old works as a glass collector. That is, he picks up broken glass from tips
and sells them on to make money.
Having left school at the age of eleven, his future, just like the future of
thousands of other children in the same country, looks bleak. This country is
Lebanon. These are the children of the Palestinian refugees.
Lebanon has witnessed a major surge of patriotism in the last year, particularly
on the recent anniversary of Rafik Hariri's assassination. With independence and
economic strength on top of everyone's agenda, one must question whether success
can be possible with the ongoing and worsening situation in the refugee camps.
The situation that Amnesty International has called a ‘Legacy of Shame’ and the
late Rafik Hariri called ‘unjust.’

With the pressure on Lebanon to implement the UN resolution of 1559, the focus
has turned on the Palestinian militias to disarm. However, in reality most believe
that the real danger also lies in the dreadful conditions that they live in. This
is what could aide in agitating the conditions for extremism.
The representation of the refugees is often cosmetically coated with the image
of militants, Syrian supporters, or simply unfortunate victims. But none of these
images interest young Sami. He explains the reasons why he needs to take this
menial job. 'I want to help my seven year old sister, Hala, become a doctor when
she is older, it's all our family's dream that she will be able to work as a doctor
in this camp.'

Sami lives in ‘Ein El-Helwa,’ the largest refugee camp in Lebanon which holds
over 45,000 people, nearly half of them under the age of fifteen. There are approximately
12 camps altogether in the country, with a total amount of
400,000 refugees; a substantial amount in a country where the total population is approximately
3,826,000. While they wait to return to their homeland, the camps they live in
struggle to fulfill their basic human needs. Waiting to return for nearly sixty
years, the fourth generation are now being told to continue in this futile lingering.
The state of Lebanon will not accept them as permanent settlers, and they themselves
do not want to be seen as Lebanese. But while we wait for a recognized Palestinian
state and some solutions to the Israeli problem, some Lebanese laws need amending,
now more than ever. In order to make Lebanon an icon of individual rights and
justice, the widening gap of living standards must be addressed.
There are many examples of Palestinians who, by obtaining other nationalities
have been able to contribute greatly to the Lebanese state, the great journalist
Samir Kassir for example. But the Lebanese state and much of its population continue
to forget the majority; or ignore them. But many fear that these young, frustrated
Palestinian people may be the power that distresses Lebanon’s already delicate
sectarian balance.

Sami Amr considers himself lucky. According to the ‘Popular Committee,’ a group
that strives to represent the different political factions in Ein El Helwa, 80%
of their population is unemployed.
All Lebanese share the dream of uniting and building their country now more than
ever. But is this achievable in a country where approximately 10% who live in
it remain without the right to own or inherit their property, receive social security
or enter into most professions? Lebanese want to achieve economic, social and
cultural prosperity, but parts of the country are deprived from basic human rights.
Sami skips over the sewage pipe in the street and enters his house. He has brought
home a special treat of faruj (rotisserie chicken) for his mother, brother and
three sisters.
Without a homeland, will Sami’s and his friend’s generation at least have an
opportunity of a successful life of freedom and security? For their good and the
good of Lebanon, I hope they will.
Zahra Albarazi*