Fatme A. is trying to keep some semblance of normal life amid improvised tent shelters, stacked mattresses and dozens of other families crowded nearby.
She and about 250 families are sheltering in the Azarieh buildings in Beirut’s commercial center, a makeshift camp with water, a communal kitchen and supplies from aid groups. Space, peace and privacy are scarce.
Fatme spends most of her time inside a cloth tent, among the bags, blankets and the few possessions she could carry when they fled. She avoids the shared bathroom because “you have to queue and everybody looks at you,” she says. She lives there with her husband, their 7-year-old daughter and her mother. Her husband, a carpenter, has been repairing and organizing for others in the building — his work helped them secure two tents.
Days are for trying to carry on. Nights are harder. “The explosions are so loud,” she says. Many sleep fully dressed, afraid.
Conflict expanding in Lebanon
What began beyond recognized front lines has moved into other parts of Beirut. Israel has widened its targeting to central areas and at times strikes come without warning. Hezbollah — a powerful political and military force in Lebanon allied with Iran and classed in whole or in part as a terrorist organization by several Western and regional states — joined the wider conflict after the killing of Iran’s supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, according to reporting.
Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz has outlined plans for a buffer zone extending to the Litani River and said villages near the border would be cleared and houses destroyed. Lebanese Defense Minister Michel Menassa described those remarks as intent to “impose a new occupation,” forcibly displacing hundreds of thousands and destroying towns. Ten European foreign ministers and the EU’s top diplomat urged Israel to respect Lebanon’s territorial integrity.
“Nowhere is safe”
For people forced from their homes, official words offer little comfort. “We fled [our homes] but we know that there’s nowhere that’s really safe. But there’s nothing more we can do,” Fatme says.
Until recently they lived in Ouzai, part of Dahiyeh — an area often portrayed externally as a Hezbollah stronghold but in practice a dense, bustling suburb of shops, restaurants and ordinary family life. “We had a normal family life there,” Fatme recalls. “My daughter went to school, my husband worked as a carpenter and I ran the house. Our life was good there.”
No real ceasefire
After the escalation in late February, Hezbollah began firing rockets and drones into Israel and Israel responded with aerial strikes. Violence in Lebanon has escalated since. Although a ceasefire between Israel and Hezbollah was arranged in November 2024, attacks continued. UNIFIL and the Lebanese government reported more than 15,400 ceasefire violations and over 370 people killed by Israeli fire in Lebanon by February 2026.
“The continuing Israeli attacks don’t just destroy houses and infrastructure; they erode the pillars of daily life and recovery,” Jeremy Ristord of Doctors Without Borders said.
When fighting intensified, Fatme’s family left in their car. They returned twice briefly but ultimately fled again for their daughter’s safety. “It took me five years to get pregnant,” Fatme says. Her daughter still suffers from trauma from the 2024 war: she startles at loud noises and covers her ears. After fleeing, the family slept in their car before finding space in the Azarieh buildings.
“I really miss my own home,” Fatme says. “My life, my things, my routine. Just a month ago, everything looked so different. Our lives have been turned upside down.” When her daughter cries in the shelters at the sound of explosions, Fatme pulls her close and tries to comfort her.
Uncertain future
At a March 31 UN Security Council meeting, the UN’s emergency relief coordinator, Tom Fletcher, said some 1,240 people had been killed and about 3,500 injured in Lebanon, including women, children and first responders, and over 1.1 million people had been displaced, many of them children. Fletcher warned of “a cycle of coercive displacement,” calling displacement a painful last resort and not a solution.
Despite moments of hope — watching children play and seeing her daughter laugh — Fatme is repeatedly brought back to the present by the drone noise and explosions. What remains of their former life is a family, two tents and a makeshift existence.
“We are not the first, and we won’t be the last family that has had to flee,” she says. “We’ve just got to hold on. And I just want the people out there to know this: That we had it good here, and that we lived with dignity.”
This article was originally written in German.