Bar Elias, Lebanon – As Israeli airstrikes pounded Lebanon in late September, Shifa faced an overwhelming challenge: comforting her three young children amid the chaos. Her eldest, 12-year-old Raneem, was terrified, unable to sleep or eat, consumed by fear as Israeli warplanes and drones roared overhead. Sitting beside her daughter, Shifa, draped in a black abaya, recounted the harrowing experience.
On September 25, an Israeli bomb targeted a building across from their home in Ali el-Nahri, a village in Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley, about 35 kilometers (25 miles) from Beirut. The blast shattered windows in their apartment and ripped doors from their hinges. “We knew the martyrs. We lost my uncle, his family, our neighbors, and the children of my siblings,” Shifa, 40, shared, tears welling in her eyes. “We wanted to check if anyone survived, but my husband and I decided to take the children and flee immediately,” she explained.
Shifa and her family eventually arrived in Bar Elias, a town in the Bekaa Valley, by sheer chance after following a stream of displaced people seeking refuge. There, they discovered shelters opening their doors and locals offering what they could—food, clothes, and basic supplies. It was no surprise to Shifa that Bar Elias extended such hospitality, as the town has a long history of sheltering those in need.
The United Nations Refugee Agency (UNHCR) estimates that between 31,000 and 45,000 Syrian refugees have sought refuge in Bar Elias since the outbreak of Syria’s civil war in 2011. The town, with a Lebanese population of 60,000 to 70,000, has been a sanctuary for those fleeing violence in neighboring Syria. Now, following the latest escalation of conflict, thousands of displaced families from Lebanon’s Shia-majority regions—home to the Hezbollah movement—have found shelter in Bar Elias.
Despite the ceasefire that was implemented on Wednesday morning, the road to recovery for these families remains uncertain. Many, like Shifa’s, may not be able to return home for months, if not years, as their villages lie in ruins. The residents of Bar Elias, however, remain committed to helping their new neighbors, viewing it as their moral and religious duty.
A Community’s Generosity
Shifa’s family found refuge in the al-Amin private school, which was quickly converted into a shelter after the conflict intensified. Bilal Mohamad Araji, the school’s head teacher, welcomed them with open arms. “Helping people is our ethical, humanitarian, and religious duty,” he said, emphasizing Bar Elias’s longstanding tradition of supporting displaced families.
As of now, approximately 5,850 displaced individuals are residing in Bar Elias, according to local officials. Of this group, 190 are staying at the al-Amin school. Shifa’s family feels comfortable and well-treated, as the warmth of the town’s residents has made the transition easier for them.
Ali, a 65-year-old man also sheltering at the al-Amin school, spoke highly of Bar Elias’s hospitality. Having fled his home in the southern Lebanese governorate of Nabatieh, Ali had once lived in a large house and worked as a car salesman. But when the conflict escalated, he fled to a nearby village, only to leave again after it too was bombed. His extended family eventually made their way to Bar Elias, after hearing that the town was offering refuge to displaced families.
Unlike other villages where residents feared hosting those linked to Hezbollah, Bar Elias remained steadfast in its support, despite potential repercussions from Israel. “The danger is everywhere, not just in Bar Elias. [Israel] is our enemy. Who knows where they will strike next? Nobody knows,” Araji remarked, dismissing the irrational fears that have hindered other communities from helping.
Tensions Amid Generosity
While Bar Elias has opened its doors generously, the influx of displaced families has strained its resources. The Lebanese government’s inability to provide adequate support, due to the ongoing economic crisis, coupled with a lack of sufficient aid from international organizations, has led to tensions. Zeinab Dirani, a local aid worker with the grassroots group Female, noted that disputes have arisen among displaced families, especially those from different regions of Lebanon with varied cultural backgrounds.
“People from the south may have different ways of handling family matters compared to those from the north,” Dirani explained, adding that some families are more socially insulated, which can lead to conflicts.
Despite these tensions, the mood among displaced families has lightened with the announcement of the ceasefire. Araji shared that some families have already left the shelter to return to their villages, and he expects more to follow in the coming days. “Thank God, people here are so happy right now,” he said. “Everyone will now be able to return to their homes, God willing.”
For now, Bar Elias remains a refuge, but it is unclear how long the town will need to support its displaced population. As the families wait for the destruction to be cleared and their homes rebuilt, the people of Bar Elias continue to demonstrate the power of community and compassion in the face of adversity.