No Fairy Tale: Can the Children of Syria Ever Find a Happy Ending?

By Lara Ghaoui, Programme Development Manager, World Vision Lebanon (formerly Manager of World Vision's Syria refugee response)

When I was a child, I grew up with fairy tales. Stories, I believed, all had happy endings.

After three years, the Syrian war continues. Dreams are being smashed and replaced by nightmares. Hopes are being squashed and replaced by despair. How long will the children suffer? When will there be a happy ending?

The beginning

March 2011, is a date to remember.

“Syrian refugees are crossing the Lebanese borders.”

“Syrian refugees are escaping their homeland.”

“Syrian refugees have reached Akkar.”

‘Syrian refugees’: two words that have left me with lots of questions, very few answers, and long moments of silence.

I was here when it all began. I have heard, repeatedly, “It will stop soon”. It hasn’t.

We have gone from few hundred refugees, to a few thousand, to a few hundred thousand. One can only wonder if this will ever cease.

I was here when World Vision Lebanon decided to intervene in the North. I remember the ride we took in a truck to distribute hygiene and baby kits to the Syrian families arriving in Akkar.  I knocked on people’s doors and handed the kits to them, one-by-one, in person. The numbers were so small and manageable.

An escalating crisis

Gradually, the war escalated, the influx increased and the ‘distribution ride’ became a ‘distribution point’, attracting large numbers of refugees. Door-to-door distributions were no longer feasible. We had to change our approach.

I still visited many families. I’ve listened to their sorrows. I’ve talked to children who shared their dreams of returning home, their wishes to play again with their school mates, their desires to be reunited with their father or mother, their hope to sleep in their own beds.

One day, while thoughtfully observing the crowds at a distribution site, I approached a Syrian woman and asked her, “What is the most important thing for you now?”

I assumed her response would be basic needs: food and shelter. She proved me wrong. With confidence, she said, “Education for my children.”

I was surprised, yet very pleased by her answer. I told myself that if education is still perceived as an imminent need in the eyes of a mother, then we might still avoid having a ‘lost generation’.

The realities of relief

Amid all these stories of families fleeing their homes carrying nothing but uncertainties, fears and hurtful memories, my brain was frequently invaded by numbers, currencies, budgets and all other elements of the funding realm.

Even though this took a considerable part of my energy, I could not but remind myself that humanitarians hold people’s fates in our inboxes, bank accounts and strategies. Despite all the requirements to have targets and numbers I believed, as UNHCR says, “One family torn apart by war is too many."

Every time I feel this quantitative rush, I rush to the field to get in touch again with people, human beings; refugees.

One day, I went to the South where World Vision Lebanon operates. I visited two families. I greeted them with a smile but left with tears in my heart. The houses – or rooms, I should say – that I saw were incredibly tiny and shockingly dirty. I struggled to notice the difference between their kitchens and their bathrooms.

After listening to their stories, I didn’t even know where to start. I still don’t.

What next?

Do we start by addressing the father who is unable to provide well for his family due to his kidney injuries?

Do we start with the mother who must take care of her little boy who is blind and needs expensive surgery to have a chance to see the world?

Maybe we should start with the adolescent girl who snuck out of the room, scared of sharing the secrets of her life as a young, female refugee in Lebanon?

When I was a child, I grew up with fairy tales. Stories, I believed, all had happy endings. Three years have already passed and the situation for Syrians only gets worse. If Syria was a child, it would be moving now from infancy to childhood.

The question remains, if Syria was a child, will that child live long enough to ever know about fairy tales and happy endings?

Will you stand with Syria and help us make sure its children don't have to endure another year of bloodshed and suffering? Sign the petition.