The revocation of my residency permit by Lebanese General Security turned my life upside down, affecting even the simplest act of buying a kilogram of vegetables. Everything became more difficult: going out, laughing, facing problems, even breathing at times. It’s strange how your entire life can be tied to a single piece of paper.

“Where Do I Go?”

Beyond the reasons for the non-renewal of my residency in Lebanon, the subsequent expulsion order, and my forced illegal stay in the country due to a lack of alternatives as returning to Syria posed a threat to my life, I received a threat from Syrian security services while in Lebanon due to the nature of my political activism. After the order to leave Lebanon was issued, I realized that Bashar al-Assad followed me from behind and racism came at me from the front. I asked myself the existential question that every Syrian faces: “Where do I go?”

In reality, it is not just Bashar al-Assad behind me but also Iran, Hezbollah, Russia, the economic collapse, arrest, torture, the loss of the most basic necessities of life, even waiting for hours for transportation, all of this is an extension of the Assad regime after all.

I am forced to stay in Lebanon, as I have nowhere else to go. As harsh as this statement may be, it is a fact and it pains me. But the problem now, despite not having a choice, lies in the confirmation of the racist voices in Lebanon that my departure and that of other Syrians is the solution to the country’s crises. It’s as if no assassinations had taken place before there were refugees in Lebanon, and as if assassinations are linked to refugees and not to the country’s political nature and the control of Hezbollah’s weapons!

Despite all this, they want me and other Syrians to leave. Do they think that a human being with choices really prefers to stay in a country where they are threatened with assault, insults, or racist remarks at any moment?

I Heard the Slap as If I Was the One Who Received It

A young Syrian man was beaten under my house two days ago, and the young man who beat him threatened him not to make a sound. I heard the sound of the slap and felt as if I was the one who had been slapped. It’s strange how they expect us to be hurt without making a sound. Minutes later, a group of other young men gathered around the young man, beat him up, and threatened him. I was unable to do anything, and perhaps this is what pained me the most, the inability to say “no” to injustice.

The next day, I looked at the street where the Syrian young man was beaten, wondering how life could go on so simply: someone could go out for a walk with their dog and let it urinate near the place where the young man was beaten, or a mother and child could walk down the same street! It’s strange how we can walk in places where a human being has been subjected to such ugly injustice, just because he holds a nationality he didn’t choose or because he happened to be coming back late from work. Who among the Syrians would dare to go out if they weren’t forced to work to pay the rent for a room they share with 4 other young men, at the very least?!

We, Syrian refugees, fugitives, and seekers of life in Lebanon, are going through tough times. Every Syrian who is beaten in the street could be any one of us. And in every call to leave, we hear the sound of the cell closing on us in Syria, or we see our children return to square one after we have built a life for them here, however difficult and hellish it may be, at least it resembles a ‘life’.

I’m Fine Because I’m a Girl

My friends reassure me that because I’m a girl, no one will bother or attack me. But the problem isn’t being a woman or a man, it’s being Syrian and having this deep feeling of exclusion, alienation, and non-belonging that is reinforced by racist behavior.

I came to this realization after two sessions with my therapist. I realized that my personality has changed completely from the time I was in Syria, to now, in Lebanon. Despite all the danger I experienced in Syria, I remained strong. But since my residency was denied in Lebanon, I’ve become fragile and weak, losing any solid foundation to move forward. When I compare who I was in Syria to who I’ve become in Lebanon, I feel pain, and I understand how racism turns us and forces us to bow our heads, just like every Syrian who is beaten in the street.

Maybe because I’m a girl, I haven’t experienced racism like those around me, but I’ve been subjected to subtle racism dozens of times through phrases like “You don’t look Syrian,” “I wish all Syrians were like you,” or through jokes that people throw out when they want to insult someone: “It’s as though he’s Syrian” or ” He’s like a Syrian vendor on a watch stand,” as if other people don’t have stands selling fake and cheap stuff.

On the other hand, my Lebanese friends have supported me sincerely, inviting me to their homes until the wave of racism subsides. They reassure me, and even my therapist has made sure to give me psychological advice to help me get through these days.

About Assad’s Detention Centers in Lebanon

I’ve had a question that’s been bothering me for days: “Do racist Lebanese people not have a choice like us, which is why they try to find someone to blame?” 

They too, like us, have lost everything they had in the banks, stolen in broad daylight by people they know. Then the value of their lira and their salaries plummeted, and their lives collapsed economically.

But this didn’t happen in a vacuum. The shared political history of the two countries and the horrific memories left by Assad’s regime in the minds of the Lebanese were the primary cause. Just two days ago, my Lebanese friend pointed me to the location of the Borivage building, the name of a hotel that was the headquarters of Syrian intelligence in Beirut between 1987 and 2005. It is located in the Ramlet al-Baida neighborhood. The Syrian regime used it to detain, torture, and forcibly disappear Lebanese people. A phrase spread among the Lebanese about the building, which is also well-known in Syria: “Those who enter are missing, and those who leave are born.”

On the other hand, the Lebanese are currently suffering from an unprecedented economic collapse, and the burden of refugees on Lebanon’s already crumbling infrastructure cannot be ignored. This is a fundamental and decisive aspect. I imagine that if the Lebanese economic situation were good and they didn’t have all these psychological burdens, then the politicians wouldn’t have been able to incite them against the refugees, or at least people wouldn’t have believed them.

The simple equation that politicians use is lost on the people, as they work to incite against Syrian refugees and use them as a scapegoat to cover up their corruption and theft of the people. They have been largely successful in this, as the masses are led by their emotions and instincts to defend their existence and affiliations.