سبعون

Seventy

عاما من

Years of

الاختناق

Suffocation

photography by Tanya Habjouqa

Chapter 1: The Occupied Palestinian Territories

Chapter 2: Jordan
Coming Soon

Chapter 3: Lebanon
Coming Soon

Chapter 1: The Occupied Palestinian Territories

Aida Refugee Camp

The Gaza Strip

More than 2 million Palestinians living in the Occupied Palestinian Territories are registered as refugees with the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA); around 775,000 live in the West Bank, while 1.26 million reside in the Gaza Strip. Many live merely a few kilometres away from their families’ original homes inside what is now Israel, yet they continue to be barred their right to return there.

Aida camp is located in the West Bank, 2km north of Bethlehem, and is home to approximately 3,300 Palestinian refugees. They live in an area that covers only 0.071km2, or the size of around 10 football pitches. The elder generations can still remember their original homes in the villages around Jerusalem that they had to leave in 1948, during the war that created the State of Israel.

Their home today is surrounded on three sides by an 8m-high concrete wall, punctuated by five Israeli military watchtowers. The main checkpoint between Bethlehem and Jerusalem, which is operated by Israeli forces, sits nearby. The Israeli settlements of Har Homa and Gilo, illegal under international law, are visible from the rooftops in the camp.

Israeli restrictions on movement prevent most camp residents from crossing the checkpoint to go and find work, and the wall makes it impossible for them to extend their homes. The buildings in the camp are becoming ever more crowded, and run down.

The nearby checkpoint is often a site of protests and confrontations between the Israeli army and Palestinian youths from the camp. As a result, the camp’s residents face frequent raids by Israeli forces, who use unnecessary or excessive force, including reckless use of tear gas and rubber-coated bullets, when dispersing the protests. Abd al-Rahman Obeidallah, aged 13, was shot by an Israeli soldier on 5 October 2015 as he was standing about 70m from clashes between Israeli forces and Palestinian youths, while posing no threat. He died in hospital shortly afterwards; doctors said he was killed by a gunshot wound to the chest.

In one year alone, between June 2017 and May 2018, the Israeli army carried out 105 military operations inside the camp – an average of around two operations a week. During the same period, people inside the camp recorded 43 occasions in which Israeli forces used tear gas. In some cases, the Israeli army fired tear gas indiscriminately into the camp from behind the concrete wall. In others, soldiers fired directly at people’s homes and other buildings, including mosques and schools. Residents say that the soldiers do not issue warnings and that they are liable to fire tear gas canisters at “any moment”. The firing has become so frequent that residents have covered the camp’s football pitch with mesh netting to stop tear gas canisters from entering.m

According to residents, in the weeks that followed US President Donald Trump’s recognition of Jerusalem as the capital of Israel on 6 December 2017, Israeli soldiers fired tear gas at the camp almost daily, causing huge anxiety among the residents and disturbing their work, studies and other activities.

In a recent study, the Human Rights Center at the University of California has found that the Israeli forces use tear gas in Aida camp frequently, indiscriminately and in a widespread manner. 100% of the 236 residents surveyed in the study reported being exposed to tear gas in 2017, with some reporting being exposed to tear gas two to three times per week for more than a year. Many said that they were exposed to tear gas in their homes, at work or school while posing no threat. They reported loss of consciousness, breathing difficulties, rashes and severe pain as a result. The study also found that many residents suffer from distress consistent with high levels of anxiety and depression, including sleep disruption and chronic post-traumatic stress disorder. Perhaps most disturbingly, residents expressed high levels of fear of the possible long-term effects of the exposure to chemical irritants; they associated chronic conditions such as asthma or miscarriages with the exposure to tear gas, though evidence to back up such claims is difficult to obtain as there is no long-term research on the health effects of tear gas. However, according to medical experts, the confined area, the overcrowding and the prolonged exposure to very high levels of toxicity increases health risks for those affected, especially children, pregnant women – particularly those with a predisposition to miscarriages – and people suffering from chronic diseases.

The use of tear gas is only permissible for the purpose of crowd dispersal; it should not be used in confined areas. People must be warned that tear gas will be used and they must be allowed to disperse. Israel’s use of tear gas in Aida camp is abusive and contrary to international human rights standards on the use of force by law enforcement officials.

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As many as 70% of the Gaza Strip’s population of 2 million are registered Palestinian refugees from areas that now constitute Israel. Over the last 11 years, they have suffered the devastating consequences of Israel’s illegal air, sea and land blockade, in addition to three wars that have taken a heavy toll on essential infrastructure and further debilitated Gaza’s health system and economy. As a result, Gaza’s economy has sharply declined, leaving its population almost entirely dependent on international aid. Gaza now has one of the highest unemployment rates in the world, estimated at 44%.

Four years since the 2014 conflict, some 22,000 people remain internally displaced, and thousands suffer from significant health problems that require urgent medical treatment outside of the Gaza Strip. However, Israel often denies or delays permits to those seeking vital medical care outside Gaza, while hospitals inside the Strip lack adequate resources and face chronic shortages of fuel, electricity and medical supplies caused mainly by Israel’s illegal blockade. The situation in the Gaza Strip has become so untenable that in 2015 the UN warned it would become “uninhabitable” by 2020.

As the occupying force, Israel controls all access to Gaza, with the exception of the Rafah crossing on the border with Egypt. Israel continues to control the Palestinian population registry, so all identity documents, including passports, require Israeli approval. As a result, the movement of people and goods is severely restricted and the majority of exports and imports of raw materials have been banned. Travel through Erez, Gaza’s passenger crossing to Israel, the West Bank and the outside world, is mainly limited to what the Israeli military calls “exceptional humanitarian cases”, meaning those with significant health issues, and their companions. Meanwhile, Egypt has imposed tight restrictions on the Rafah crossing since 2013, keeping it closed most of this time. The UN and the International Committee of the Red Cross, among others, have declared Israel’s closure policy “collective punishment” and called for Israel to lift its closure.

Against this backdrop, on 30 March 2018, Palestinians in Gaza, including refugees, launched the Great March of Return, a series of mass demonstrations along the Israel-Gaza fence to demand their right to return to their villages and towns in what is now Israel, and to press for an end to Israel’s blockade. Israeli soldiers and snipers responded with live ammunition and tear gas, killing over 100 Palestinians, including at least 14 children, and injuring thousands of others, some with what appear to be deliberately inflicted life-changing injuries. In many of the fatal cases recorded by Amnesty International since the protests began on 30 March, victims were shot with live bullets in the upper body, some from behind. Eyewitness testimonies, video and photographic evidence suggest that many were deliberately killed while posing no immediate threat to the soldiers who killed them. Two journalists and two paramedics are amongst those killed; many others were injured.

According to the Palestinian Ministry of Health, between 30 March and 2 June, over 3,770 people were injured with live bullets, while some 1,384 people suffered from tear gas inhalation. Many reported fainting, dizziness and headaches, in some cases even days after inhaling the tear gas.

The protests culminated on 14 May, on the day of the US embassy’s move to Jerusalem and the eve of the 70th anniversary of the Nakba. On that day alone, Israeli forces killed 59 Palestinians, in a horrifying example of the use of excessive force and live ammunition against protesters who were not posing an imminent threat to Israeli soldiers located behind the fence and protected by gear, sand hills, drones and military vehicles.

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Umm Ahmad
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Over the last eight years, a 31-year-old pregnant mother of two known as Umm Ahmad has had two miscarriages and an induced abortion. She was four months pregnant when in January 2015 a tear gas canister entered her house. She hid inside the bathroom to avoid the tear gas, but was still asphyxiated by it and almost lost consciousness. She was taken in a taxi to al-Hussein hospital in the nearby town of Beit Jala. Following advice from several doctors, she decided to have an induced abortion as the health of the fetus was abnormal. She expressed her fears to Amnesty International about being pregnant while living in Aida refugee camp.
“I am pregnant again, but I don’t like pregnancy. I am now afraid of having an unhealthy child. Not that it is unfair for me, but it’s unfair on the child. But what should we do? Not have children?… Hopefully God will make up for the ones that were lost. We will never stop having children, even if we get tear gassed every day.”
“My baby is going to be named Diyar. This means home. The meaning is that one day we will return to our village, our home, our land.”
“My baby is going to be named Diyar. This means home. The meaning is that one day we will return to our village, our home, our land.”
Umm Ahmad explained that, whenever Israeli forces fire tear gas into the camp, she usually covers the windows in her house with dampened towels. That way, she said, the water absorbs some of the gas, and limits the amount that enters her house:

“Now my children tell me when the soldiers are here and when they are shooting gas. We put wet towels on the doors and windows to try to protect ourselves, but this is not enough. We need gas masks and first aid training at the very least.”
Umm Ahmad explained that, whenever Israeli forces fire tear gas into the camp, she usually covers the windows in her house with dampened towels. That way, she said, the water absorbs some of the gas, and limits the amount that enters her house:

“Now my children tell me when the soldiers are here and when they are shooting gas. We put wet towels on the doors and windows to try to protect ourselves, but this is not enough. We need gas masks and first aid training at the very least.”
Abdel Majid Abu Srour
Abdel Majid Abu Srour, an 85-year-old shop owner, was 15 when he fled his home in the village of Beit Nattif, south-west of Jerusalem, in 1948 during the war that created the State of Israel. He was never allowed to return.
In December 2017, Abdel Majid broke his right leg, near the hip. He fell on the ground after he inhaled tear gas that the Israeli army fired into the camp to disperse a protest against US President Donald Trump’s decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. He said that nothing shocked him any more after spending most of his life living as a refugee:

“There were protests at the checkpoint near Rachel’s Tomb and the soldiers started firing tear gas from their jeeps. The wind was blowing eastward, towards the camp. I was walking outside my shop when I started to suffocate…I lost consciousness for 15 minutes. I said a death prayer because I thought I was going to die. When I woke up, someone was helping me stand up. People took me to Hussein hospital… I realized I had broken my left leg near the hip and I had to have surgery that night – they had to fix the fracture with metal plates. It took me three months of rehabilitation before I could walk again, and my leg still hurts today. Nothing is shocking to me anymore.”

The Al Jawaresh Family

The al-Jawaresh family is originally from the village of al-Malha, now a neighborhood in the south-west of Jerusalem. Residents of al-Malha began to flee the village in 1948 after Jewish paramilitary groups entered the surrounding villages in the Jerusalem area. Many found refuge in and around Bethlehem.

Balqees, 11, has had severe asthma since she was eight, often requiring medical treatment in hospital. Her father, Thair, said that she had lost the ability to breathe normally:

“She chokes and chokes, and she needs to go to the hospital to get oxygen. It is not normal.”

According to the family, in 2014, Sileen, now aged four, was pronounced dead by paramedics after inhaling tear gas from a canister that entered the al-Jawaresh home. She was only four months old at the time. Her mother said that she was resuscitated while on her way to hospital:

“In July 2014, they [Israeli army] fired tear gas intensively at the camp because of protests against the Gaza war... I was sitting upstairs in the kitchen and Sileen was sleeping in the living room. I saw smoke in the house and went downstairs to see what was happening. I screamed when I realized it was a tear gas canister that had entered the room where Sileen was sleeping. I went and grabbed her... The smoke was everywhere. I hid Sileen in the cupboard in the bedroom. She was already suffocating and unconscious at this point. Paramedics came and rescued us... She was pronounced dead. She was resuscitated back to life on her way to the hospital in the ambulance.

The Israeli army was firing tear gas at the whole camp; it was not just focused on our house. The jeeps can shoot hundreds of tear gas canisters at a time and the camp is so small that it reaches everyone. No matter where you go, you are suffocated in this camp. Where are we supposed to go? You close the door and the gas comes. You close the windows and it’s the same. It doesn’t matter.

If I had money to leave this camp, I would. There is no life here, my children’s lives are in danger and I know this is not normal. The life here in the camp is impossible.”

When asked where she hides when there is tear gas in the refugee camp, four-year-old Sileen points towards the bed.
When asked where she hides when there is tear gas in the refugee camp, four-year-old Sileen points towards the bed.

Sileen’s father, Thair, 35, has lived in Aida refugee camp his entire life. Although he says that life in the camp is not easy, Thair intends to stay in Aida until he is allowed to go back to al-Malha:

“I am going to go back to my land. I am suffocated in this camp, but I am going to stay until I can go back to my land. I am a man of the land. Our right to return is the most important thing to our resistance. Whether it is in one, two, or even 10 more years... it doesn’t matter; we will return to our land. I will die in this camp until then. We are not going to give up being refugees because we want our right to return. Yes, the occupation is harsh, but the tear gas has not killed us. The bullets have not killed us. The tanks have not killed us. All of this and we still have not lost our dignity. The Palestinian people are still living, and I am not leaving.”

Balqees, 11, described to Amnesty International the impact of tear gas on her daily life:

“The first time I experienced the pain of tear gas was four years ago when I was seven. I grew up hearing the word tear gas, but I never knew what it felt like until I experienced inhaling it. I felt like I was dying. Then I went unconscious. I could not remember anything but I was told that an ambulance came for me, and I was transferred to al-Hussein hospital.

I hate hearing the word tear gas now. I’m traumatized. The feeling of not being able to breathe is not just painful, but very scary. You just hope that you will survive. You would want to run for your life, but here in the camp, you just cannot.”
Shahd

Shahd, 13, is an eighth-grade student and member of the student parliament at the UNRWA Beit Jala Basic Coeducational School in the camp. She recalled how she once had to seek shelter during a qanun (a traditional Middle Eastern string instrument) lesson, after the Lajee Center where she plays was hit with tear gas fired by Israeli soldiers during clashes with youths in 2016:

“I have been playing the qanun for three and a half years and I go to classes twice a week. It is dangerous because of the tear gas. Many times I miss my classes because tear gas is being shot into the camp. Last year, on a Friday, I was in my class when the soldiers were shooting tear gas into the camp, and a canister entered the building. We all had to hide in one room all together until the gas was gone.”

Wisam

Wisam, 15, is a ninth-grade student and a member of the student parliament at the UNRWA Aida Basic Boys’ School. He said that, in December 2017, in the days immediately after US President Donald Trump recognized Jerusalem as the capital of Israel, the Israeli army was firing tear gas intensively at the camp in response to the almost daily protests and clashes that erupted at the checkpoint. He explained how, during one of the protests, he rescued a boy aged six or seven who collapsed after inhaling tear gas:

“There was a big crowd of us watching the [Israeli] watchtower being set in flames, when suddenly soldiers fired gas from behind the wall. We all started running away from the street, and I saw a small boy who had collapsed from the tear gas. I went to rescue him. The child was on the ground and he couldn’t move. He was suffocating. I carried him and then ran into someone’s house in the camp for shelter. Everyone in the camp suffers from the tear gas; it’s normal to seek shelter in anyone’s house.”

“They [the Israeli soldiers] don’t want us to learn; they don’t want us to better ourselves. We left our final exams because of the gas and had to hide in the computer lab. We waited an hour until the amount of tear gas had thinned out. We went home and then came to school the next day.”

“Even when there is a protest, the [Israeli] soldiers do not fire tear gas to disperse the protesters, rather they fire at random – at houses especially… Sometimes the Israeli jeeps are behind the wall and they shoot at random: they hit mosques, schools, homes. 

We try to keep an eye out for children who look tired, who are not sleeping and are exhausted. Unfortunately this is very common and this affects their grades.  One thing that is normal to hear here in the camp is, ‘Were you woken up by the army last night?’ It happens so much that sometimes you hear, ‘No it didn’t wake me up this time."
- UNRWA staff member

Reem Awaineh
Reem Awaineh is the Assistant Principal at the UNRWA Aida Basic Boys’ School, which is located near the Israeli wall surrounding the camp, and as a result is at risk of being targeted by tear gas. Since she took her position in October 2017, she recalled one instance in which the Israeli army fired tear gas canisters directly at the school. She said that, since then, the school had been forced to put in place a safety protocol to minimize the risks of exposure for the students, and draw up a “safe track” to evacuate the children from the school.

Reem explained that, whenever the Israeli soldiers fire tear gas during school hours, students hide inside the computer lab in the basement:

In December 2017, during protests against President Trump’s embassy decision, all of the children were at school when tear gas started to fall inside the camp, right outside the school. We took all the children to the computer lab. We spoke to the UNRWA operations office, asking them to inform the Israeli military of our whereabouts and to make them stop shooting gas at the school… but, instead of stopping, they shot more tear gas canisters at the school. We found about 130 tear gas canisters in the school yard that day.
“We have a ‘safe track’ drill now, where we map out the safe exit routes for children to get home when the Israeli army is firing tear gas. We also had the Palestinian Red Crescent Society give us a workshop on how to provide first aid for tear gas inhalation.”

Abdul-Rahman

Abdul-Rahman, 15, is in ninth grade and is a member of the student parliament at the Aida Basic Boys' School. His father owns an antique shop at the entrance to the camp, where he works after school. He told Amnesty International that, once, he had to flee his father’s shop because the Israeli army was firing tear gas canisters into the camp:

“I was at my dad's shop and a jeep came and was shooting gas. I ran away immediately to someone’s house. It wasn’t even my house. Inside this house, people were suffocating, and the paramedics came to rescue them.”

Abdul-Rahman dreams of becoming a businessman. He wants to start a business that would benefit everyone in the camp. He said that he would open a bakery if he had enough funding: 

“There is no bakery inside the camp. People should be able to buy fresh bread from inside the camp.”
Abdul-Rahman dreams of becoming a businessman. He wants to start a business that would benefit everyone in the camp. He said that he would open a bakery if he had enough funding: 

“There is no bakery inside the camp. People should be able to buy fresh bread from inside the camp.”
Ibtihaj
Ibtihal, 15, is a ninth-grader and a member of the student parliament at the Beit Jala Basic Coeducational School. She is one of the top students in her class, but says that she struggles to focus and study due to the heightened insecurity inside Aida camp. She was particularly affected during the May 2018 Nakba Day protests and clashes:
“During these last three days [14-16 May 2018], we were meant to break for final exams, so that we could study. But there was tear gas fired at the camp every night. I couldn’t study or focus for two days, and today I couldn’t concentrate on the exams. There is no safe space. There is only fear. I cannot focus and I cannot study; studying is pointless. I am happy though; I took my final exam in religion today and I got 99%. We try not to think about the tear gas or the clashes all of the time; we try to stay positive a little.”

Islam, Ibtihal’s mother, lives in Aida refugee camp together with her six children, and is the project co-ordinator for Noor Women’s Empowerment Group, a grassroots organization created by and for refugee women who have children with disabilities. Islam, who has asthma, said that she struggles to care for her son Mohammad, who has a physical and mental disability, whenever the Israeli forces raid the camp:

“During Ramadan a few years ago Israeli soldiers were inside the camp at 1am. My son Mohammad, has a mental disability; he was sleeping next to me, and my two daughters were sleeping upstairs. My youngest daughter, Susu, who was eight at this time, woke up choking; she was suffocating from the tear gas. I woke up to the sound of her screaming, and I immediately saw the tear gas in the house. We couldn’t open the door and leave the house because we were scared as the soldiers were outside. I told my oldest daughter to take care of Mohammad, and I carried Susu upstairs. I went back down and, together with my oldest daughter, we carried Mohammad upstairs. He cannot walk and he is heavy. To this day I do not know how we carried him. And because of my asthma, if I inhale a lot of gas I can suffocate and die. Most people in the camp are like this; we all have breathing issues. If my daughter hadn’t been screaming and woken me up, I probably would have suffocated and died.”

PRCS

Mohamed Awad, 48, is the director of the Palestinian Red Crescent Society for the Bethlehem area and teaches emergency care across the West Bank. Mohamed told Amnesty International that he had been affected by tear gas exposure throughout his career as a paramedic and is now no longer able to be exposed to tear gas:

“Tear gas is very painful, even for paramedics. The job of a paramedic here is very dangerous. We get exposed to tear gas, rubber bullets, live ammunition and we are not always given safe passage to help patients. Gas masks are the only things we have. They work but we only recently got them – two years ago.

“Normal treatment for tear gas is to give patients oxygen and a ventilator on the spot, and to immediately take them out of the toxic area. The main effects are burning in the nasal mucosa, and sometimes spasms in the lungs due to the toxicity of the gas. The gas essentially dries out the bronchus and when that is dry the bronchus has a spasm, and the patient cannot breathe normally. Tear gas can kill those with chronic respiratory issues, and can cause chronic respiratory issues for those who are exposed to it a lot, which is the case in Aida camp. Half of the emergency calls in the Bethlehem district regarding tear gas exposure come from Aida refugee camp.”

“People in the camp use wet towels to help block the gas from entering their homes. This helps, the water particles absorb the gas.”

Jamil Abu Mohammad, 51, is a paramedic at the Palestinian Red Crescent Society in Bethlehem and has been working there for 20 years. He told Amnesty International that he has respiratory issues in his upper airway and has developed a chronic allergy to any sort of gas or smoke due to sustained exposure to tear gas throughout his career:

“I am the rescuer, right? Isn’t it strange that I have needed someone to rescue me before because of tear gas? Now because of the tear gas I have been exposed to, I have sleep apnoea and respiratory issues in my upper airways. I also have a chronic allergy to any sort of gas or chemicals such as chlorine, perfumes, smoke.”

Gaza

Momen Faiz, a 30-year-old father of four, is a photojournalist from the Gaza Strip. He has been working as a freelancer for the last 12 years covering the wars between Israel and Palestinian armed groups in Gaza. In 2008, an Israeli air strike hit a target close to where Momen was filming and he was injured by shrapnel. He lost both of his legs. Despite this, Momen still works as a freelance photojournalist and has been covering the Great March of Return protests in Gaza since 30 March 2018. On 14 May 2018, Momen was taking photos of the protest when he was overcome by tear gas fired by Israeli soldiers from behind the fence that separates Gaza and Israel. 

“Two weeks ago, I was taking photos of the protest, probably 70-100m away from the fence, and the [Israeli] soldiers were shooting gas. I was on the ground, as it is easier for me to photograph from there and not on the wheelchair. They must have shot over 40 tear gas canisters at us. We were a group of three or four journalists. I fell unconscious and the journalists around me took me away from the gas. I was in and out of consciousness for an hour… At the field hospital I received oxygen. I was then transferred to the hospital to recover and left after a few hours. However, even after I left the hospital, for the next three days I had a burning sensation every time I took a breath. Even today my chest hurts, and my voice is off. I feel like something is stuck in my chest. I can barely drink water; once I take a sip it burns even more. 

“I want to send a message to all the journalists around the world so that they understand that we journalists are not safe because of the events that are happening here in Gaza. How can journalists and medical staff be killed? Even if Israel is afraid of the photos someone is taking, why would they try and kill them?"

Archival Materials

Ahmad Khaled Abu Nasser, aged 17, recounts his experience after he inhaled tear gas during the “Great March of Return” protest on 30 March
Israeli forces intervene to Palestinian demonstrators using tear gas during a protest within the "Great March of Return" near Israeli border in eastern part of Shuja'iyya neighborhood of Gaza City, Gaza on May 11, 2018. Photo Credit: Getty Images
Israeli forces intervene to Palestinian demonstrators using tear gas during a protest within the "Great March of Return" near Israeli border in eastern part of Shuja'iyya neighborhood of Gaza City, Gaza on May 11, 2018. Photo Credit: Getty Images
Palestinians run for cover from tear gas during clashes with Israeli security forces near the border between Israel and the Gaza Strip, east of Jabalia on May 14, 2018, as Palestinians protest over the inauguration of the US embassy following its controversial move to Jerusalem. Photo Credit: MOHAMMED ABED/AFP/Getty Images)
Gaza City, Gaza - MAY 14: Medical units carry away a wounded Palestinian shot by Israeli forces during a protest on the border fence separating Israel and Gaza on May 14, 2018 in a camp east of Gaza City, Gaza. Photo Credit: Marcus Yam/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images
Gaza City, Gaza - MAY 15: An unmanned aerial vehicle belonging to Israeli forces throws tear gas canisters on Palestinian protesters during a protest, organized to mark 70th anniversary of Nakba, also known as Day of the Catastrophe in 1948, and against US decision to relocate the U.S. Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, at Gaza-Israel border in eastern part of Shujaiyya Neighborhood of Gaza City, Gaza on May 15, 2018. Photo Credit: by Ali Jadallah/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images
Woman demonstrator reacts to tear gas fired by Israeli troops during clashes at a protest at the Israel-Gaza border where Palestinians demand the right to return to their homeland, east of Gaza City Photo Credit: Reuters
A new emergency tented camp for the Arab refugees has been set up at Souf, in the hills near Jarash, east Jordan to shelter about 7000 people. The site was previously used for an emergency camp in the period July-Dec. 1967. Recent military incidents along the Jordan River, in February 1968, have caused the further displacement of more than 75000 Palestine Arabs who have found shelter in the emergency tented camps on the river's East Bank. For a large number of them, this is their fourth move since June 1967. ©1969 UNRWA Photo
For many years, the only accommodation available for the refugees who now live in Rashidieh camp was an old barracks built at the turn of the century for the Turkish army. Overcrowding was extreme, and there was little or no privacy. Their new accommodation to which they moved in 1963 consists of these concrete huts on a site given by the Lebanese government. © 1963 UNRWA Photo
For many years, the only accommodation available for the refugees who now live in Rashidieh camp was an old barracks built at the turn of the century for the Turkish army. Overcrowding was extreme, and there was little or no privacy. Their new accommodation to which they moved in 1963 consists of these concrete huts on a site given by the Lebanese government. © 1963 UNRWA Photo
Students line up before a preparatory school in Aida camp in the West Bank for an orderly entrance into their school, which is provided by UNRWA along with other refugee services. ©1986 UNRWA Photo By Shaukat Hasan