Imagine life without water!

 Ali has been living in Lebanon for three years, but still describes his family home by going back in time and place, to his residence in Syria. He blankly recalls details like the street, the building, how he lived on the third floor, one floor beneath his parents' apartment.

 Fearing the bombs, Ali and his family fled to a nearby village in Syria, assuming that the situation would improve in a couple of days, or weeks, or maybe months. Feeling detached from their home, they decided to take a risk by returning. They arrived to find nothing left, save for some remnants. The building had been bombed and was in ruins. Ali told his family and parents that it was time to flee. “We did not have any option but Lebanon,” he says.

 Currently, three families live in the big tent, which has been divided into three sections: the first is for Ali, his wife Zeinab, and his four children; the second section houses Ali’s elderly father and mother; Ali's three sisters live in the last section. “Suffering” is how Ali's sister Khadijah, 30, describes their first year in Lebanon. Other family members, gathered on the floor around the central stove, jump in to explain how each of them helped find solutions to their suffering.

Mona Daoud, Communications Officer at WVL, listens to the family’s story.

“I was pregnant, during my eighth month, and I used to carry heavy containers of water from the water spring, located one kilometre away from our settlement,” recalls Zeinab, 26.

The family had no water to drink, and buying water cost them around $1 USD per litre, an amount they couldn't afford. The only solution was a 20 minute walk to the spring to fill gallon containers of water, which they then carried back for the 11-member family. 

Once during her pregnancy, Zeinab was feeling too tired to walk, but her thirst was overwhelming and Ali was at work, so she was forced to go herself. “I went to the spring, finding it empty. I walked to another one far away, finding no water there either. I came back thirsty and with empty hands.” Most Syrian refugees with limited financial capabilities in the area were relying on that spring, which sometimes led to it being completely drained. Zienab remembers how “Sacrificing bread to get drinking water was the only solution available to many Syrian refugees during that time.”

 Worse still was the journey to get water for non-drinking uses like showering, cleaning the tent, and washing dishes and clothes. The family had no choice but to use sewage water. Khadijah remembers how “The water was full of worms. [The] colour was extremely disgusting. We used to get skin irritations and fungi all over our bodies.” As she talks, Khadijah points at her legs and imitates the way they used to scratch their bodies. “Showering with that dirty water was equivalent to not showering at all. I used to go five days without showering, to avoid seeing that dirty water flowing over my body.”

Three generations; one look, perhaps a look of worrying towards the future. Iman, the two-year daughter of Ali is surrounded by her mother Zeinab, 26 ( to her left) and Ahmad her grandfather, 73 (to her right). 

The family tolerated the skin diseases and itching caused by the dirty water, until the unforgettable moment that Zeinab recalls in astonishment and disgust, as if it were yesterday: “I went [to the source] and saw saliva and phlegm in the water.” That was the turning point. Ali decided that sewage water would no longer be used by the family. “My children were getting sick due to the dirty water, so I said that it was enough.” As a temporary solution, Ali and some other men from the camp worked for three days drilling an unprotected well. But the water still wasn't completely clean and the well dried up during the summer. 

In late 2013, the family’s fortune changed. The reason, according to Ali, Zeinab and Khadijah, was World Vision’s Clean Water, Sanitation, and Hygiene (WASH) programme, funded by UNICEF. They say that WASH succeeded in alleviating the suffering by replacing the dirty sewage water with clean water filtered in-house.  The filter saved Zeinab from having to walk one kilometre to the spring, and she knows that the water she is drinking is safe for both herself and her unborn baby.

“Water is life. In emergencies, refugees can endure any challenge except the absence of clean water and toilets,” says Amjad Daoud, WASH project manager. Daoud explains that WASH services, which started two years ago and have reached 27,206 beneficiaries, take two major forms: hard and soft services. Hard services are anything relating to infrastructure: the distribution of water tanks – usually two for each large family; water filters, soaps, hygiene and drainage kits; a weekly supply of water; monthly sewage de-sludging; and the installation of latrines next to tents. Soft services include hygiene-awareness sessions and events aiming to change hygiene behaviour.

 The programme not only provides basic services, but could very well be an actual life-saver. According to Khadijah, a child from a neighbouring settlement was struck and killed by a car while crossing the street on his way back from the old spring. She says, “Children were required to carry gallons of water to their families.

"WASH is saving the lives of children who had to walk along dangerous roads. Some used to walk for 50 minutes to reach the spring, and faced such dangers”, says Zeinab.

There were other life-savers, in a different sense. During that year of “suffering”, Ali drilled a hole almost eight metres away from the tent, and covered it with torn pieces of clothing. Khadijah fights back tears as she recalls how the curtain covering the toilet used to flap open in the wind. “We, as women, were afraid to be seen by people outside, while now, the fear is over. The whole situation changed, not only for us, but for all people living in this settlement. All of them say that World Vision saved us.” This particular change came in the form of what Ali calls “a legitimate toilet similar to the one we had in Syria.”

 Zeinab too suffered during the absence of the “legitimate” toilet. If Ali wasn't available to walk her to the hole in the ground, she would wait to go until the morning arrived. “I used to imagine fearful situations. Maybe someone would come to kidnap me or kill me in the dark. Maybe the curtain would be blown open and I would lose my dignity,” she says. But now, because the latrine is located right outside of the tent, Zeinab can use it even at night: “At least there is a door, so I can lock myself in, and secure it so that no one could get in.”

Latrines provided by WASH programme are installed next to refugees' tents. “At least there is a door, so I can lock myself in, and secure it so that no one could get in”, says Zeinab.

Khadijah's experience with the WASH programme, the training sessions in particular, has been exceptional. She believes that attending the training sessions has helped her to overcome the vicious circle of hopelessness and boredom that she was living in. “I stayed in the tent for five months, I never went out, except to the [toilet] built by my brother.” The trainings, she says, have made her feel motivated to live.

 Enjy Kazan, WASH field assistant, says that WASH trainings are delivered once a month and cover a different topic each session. According to Kazan, “Khadijah would never dream of missing a session. She is even volunteering to train her own community on hygiene topics.”

“Each time I learn new information, and I share it with the children living here,” says Khadijah.

Her motivation to participate in community mobilisation led her to volunteer in educating children in the settlement. Kazan explains how training sessions include tips that, if followed by refugees, would allow them to treat their children at home without having to worry about checking with a doctor. “WASH explains that excessive diarrhea and vomiting can be signs of cholera. That’s why we train refugees on how to treat their children with syringes at home.”

 Although the WASH team is responsible for cleaning and filtering the water provided by tanks, awareness sessions provide refugees training on how to sanitise their own water. Amjad Daoud, the project manager, puts it this way: “We say that no one knows what they may encounter in their lives, but these trainings can help them face any unexpected experiences. We want to make sure they are safe.”

Ali’s family, from left to right: Ali and his children, Zeinab (his wife), Khadijah (his   sister), and Ahmad (Ali’s father).

Ali, Khadijah, and Zeinab say that they managed to endure their first year of suffering through patience and silence. Though they have entered the third year of estrangement from their home, the hardships of foreignness and poverty have been eased through the introduction of WASH services in the settlement. “At least [we] feel that there is still someone who cares about us,” says Ali, holding his two young daughters close.