Repeated displacement and uncertain returns home for families in Lebanon

Thirty-five-year-old Ghofran Abou Khalil was one of the women working in the kitchen. She had been displaced four times. The first within Syria, then to Tripoli, then to Borj al-Chemali camp in Lebanon, and then to Sibline.

“My area was under threat of bombing. I had to leave at night, with my daughters. I forgot my medications, but I took my daughter’s favourite toy, a Panda. My husband thought it would be easier for shelters to accept women and children”, says Ghofran. Aside from the toy panda and the clothes they were wearing when they fled, Ghofran and her children struggled without additional clothing, heating and basics like baby milk.

When the ceasefire was announced on 16 April, Ghofran returned to her home and husband in the Borj al-Chemali camp. “It was hard to find a car to take me and my daughters back – we waited more than five hours. On the way, I cried a lot. I saw destruction everywhere – blood, people mourning their loved ones, others returning to ruined homes. I saw the bombed bridge in Qassmieh. It was mentally exhausting and left me deeply saddened”, says Ghofran. “The situation is still unclear, and I don’t feel safe, but it’s better than staying in a shelter. I also wanted to pick up clothes and essential items in case the escalation starts again”, she explains.

Hadeel Moussa, 22, also fled the Borj al-Cemali camp in Southern Lebanon with her 11-month-old daughter. It was the second time she’d been displaced in the past two years. Her husband stayed behind. “I waited for hours in the street at 3:00 a.m. before finding a place on a bus”, she says. Like Ghofran, Hadeel has returned to the Borj al-Chemali camp. She shares the same fears the situation could escalate again and is keeping an emergency bag packed and ready. “The situation is still devastating but being at home feels better than living in a shelter”.

Why displacement in Lebanon affects women and girls differently?

Displacement puts the safety and well-being of women and girls at further risk and intensifies economic insecurity. Women and girls often also carry a greater share of responsibility for sustaining families, including caring for children and elderly, going without food so others can eat, and holding households together under huge strain. The kitchen has helped alleviate some of these pressures for women like Ghofran who described her job as “a string of hope” where she felt appreciated.

Faten Ali’s journey follows the same pattern of movement between shelter and home, and loss. Faten’s brother was killed and her home destroyed during the 2024 conflict. After arriving in Sibline in March 2026, Faten, 39, joined the community kitchen. She described it as “one of the best things that happened” to her. “The laughter and friendships make things easier,” she says.

Following the announcement of the ceasefire agreement, Faten travelled to the South to check on her home, which is still standing with minor damage. “This gave me hope”, she says. “But it is still not safe to stay in the southern villages, like for many other families, so we returned to the shelter”.

Back at the shelter, she continues her work in the kitchen.