Lebanon

Children in Lebanon battle barriers to education

As the new academic year begins, children all over the world are beginning to step back into the classroom, reunite with friends and build new exciting childhood memories at school. However, this is not the case for many children in Lebanon. The country has been hit by crisis after crisis over the last three years. This has had a significant impact on children’s right to education.

In the past decade, refugee children have disproportionately faced challenges in accessing quality education in Lebanon. A 2020 NRC report that predated the worst of Lebanon’s economic collapse presented the multiple challenges that refugee children face when trying to access education in Lebanon. These included financial barriers, concerns around discrimination and a lack of protection at school, lacking documents such as legal residency and educational records, and a lack of available enrolment spots in public schools.

Since the economic collapse, the Lebanese education system has dealt with unprecedented challenges, affecting both refugee and Lebanese children. It is unclear if schools will be able to keep their doors open this academic year. Many public schools are unable to afford operating costs and teacher strikes continue. Teachers have seen the value of their salaries evaporate because of skyrocketing inflation – second only to Venezuela in the world today.

School enrolment is more difficult than ever. Refugee children and children from migrant workers face challenges linked to their fragile legal status and extreme poverty. Poor Lebanese families also struggle, and some have no other choice than to keep their children at home to help provide for the family.

According to a recent report by the World Food Programme (WFP), more than half of Syrian refugee children in Lebanon are unable to pursue their primary education due to economic hardships and other related factors.

Behind this shocking statistic, there are children and parents who want to look ahead and prepare for the best possible future despite the current challenges. Meet Wael, Yehya, Mostafa, Imad, Hazar and Mohammad. They represent many more children across Lebanon for whom the years ahead are very uncertain. 

Wael, a 15-year-old Syrian refugee posing to the camera in his house in Bekaa, Lebanon. Photo: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

Out of school to pay the rent

In the Bekaa, we met Wael, 15, the breadwinner of his family. He has been in Lebanon since 2013 but has only attended first grade.

“I would love to go back to school, but even if I get accepted now, I cannot go anymore. I need to work so that I can help my dad pay the rent,” says Wael.

For USD 1.60 a day, Wael works in construction from 8 am till 5 pm every day.

“I can’t go to school now, because I’m working to help my dad pay the rent,” says Wael, a 15-year-old Syrian refugee in Lebanon

“Every time we try to enrol them in a school, they put us on the waiting list and ask us for their education records,” said Rabiaa, Wael’s mother. “It is difficult to see my children out of school. I wish my child could go back to school because this job exhausts him. He is just a child who should be in school receiving the education he needs.”

Rabiaa had tried to register Wael and his siblings in the nearby public schools, but they were all full.

“NRC reached out to us and helped us enrol Wael and his sister at the nearby education centre. Unfortunately, after a month I had to take the kids out of the centre because we couldn’t afford the rent anymore and needed them to financially support us,” she added.

Yehya, an 11-year-old Syrian refugee staring away in his house in South Lebanon. Photo: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

Transportation has become a luxury

Yehya has been in Lebanon since 2014, then went to school until 2017. Ever since, he’s been on a waiting list in the public school for grade three. Luckily, he managed to register in one of NRC’s basic literacy and numeracy classes.

“I love NRC’s centre because they treat us in a kind and loving way, and I never miss a day there,” he said.

During weekends, he works as a delivery boy from 8 am till 11 am.

“Studying and seeing my friends motivates me,” says Yehya, an 11-year-old Syrian refugee from south Lebanon

Yehya’s mum tried to enrol her children in three different public schools but couldn’t afford the transportation fees. The mother also mentioned other challenges, including that she does not have education records for any of her children.  

“Last year, I tried enrolling my children in a public school that is close to our house, but they asked us for previous school certificates, which we cannot obtain because their previous school is in Tripoli, North Lebanon, and we can’t even afford the transportation fees to get there,” she said.

Lacking school certificates is a common challenge for many refugee children in Lebanon, either because parents never received the necessary documents from Lebanese schools in previous years, or because the documents can only be issued in Syria.

Mostafa, a 13-year-old Syrian refugee sitting at one of NRC's education centres in Beirut, Lebanon. Photo: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

Out of school since fleeing Syria

“None of my siblings have attended school since we arrived in Lebanon,” Mostafa says with tears in his eyes.

After his town was destroyed in Syria and his father went missing, Mostafa fled to Lebanon with his mum and six siblings.

“When I wanted to enrol in a school in Lebanon, they asked for a lot of money, especially for transportation, and we didn’t have that kind of money,” he said. “They also asked for my old school certificate and for our UNHCR file number, which we also did not have.”

Mostafa and his siblings are helping their mother with her work as building janitor.

Imad, a 11-year-old Syrian refugee staring away at one of NRC's education centres in Jbeil, Lebanon. Photo: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

Working after school hours 

In Mount Lebanon, we met 11-year-old Imad at one of our education centres in Jbeil district. He has gone through very traumatic experiences before he left Syria with his family in Idlib.

After settling in Lebanon with his parents and five siblings in 2019, he started working on the plot of land of a Lebanese neighbour. Imad quit his job because it was too exhausting.

“I used to work from 6 am and never returned before 7 pm.  When my mum told me that NRC had contacted her to enrol me at their education centre, I felt like I was above the clouds,” he said.

Imad had asked his parents several times before to enrol him in a public school, but they simply could not afford paying the transportation costs. Every day, when he returns home from the education centre, he rests a bit and then goes out to help his brother who works in aluminium at a nearby workshop. Imad still returns home late, around 10 pm.

Hazar, an 11-year-old Syrian refugee who lives with her family in an informal tented settlement in Baalbak, Lebanon. Photo: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

Dropped out of education to work in the fields

“We cannot register in school because my mother cannot pay for the bus fees,” said Hazar, an 11-year-old Syrian refugee who lives in an informal tented settlement in Baalbak with her parents and five siblings. “I want to go to school to achieve my dream of becoming both a doctor and a teacher.”

Hazar’s mum enrolled her children at NRC’s education centre. But when life had just started smiling back at them, their landlord multiplied the rent by seven. She then had no other option than to take her daughters out of the centre so they could work in a potato field to help pay the rent.

Every morning, Hazar and her 13-year-old sister wake up at 6 am to ride in a pickup with other refugees who work in this potato field in Baalbak. They collect potatoes until 1 PM, then come back home tired, so they shower and go to bed immediately. “We cannot go to the NRC centre anymore. I was so happy there. I learnt the alphabet in English and Arabic, and we also learnt math,” she said.

Mohammad, a 13-year-old Syrian refugee sitting in front of his house in North Lebanon. Photo: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

No school, no social life

Mohammad is a 13-year-old Syrian child who can barely read and write because he didn’t have the opportunity to enrol in school since fleeing Syria in 2018. Back at home, Mohammad had attended second grade and had big dreams. He never imagined that attending school would be a challenging quest from that point onwards.

“I tried registering my son at a public school, but they asked for a school certificate from Syria,” Mohammad’s mum explained. “Our village back in Syria looks like a desert now. No one lives there anymore. Even Mohammad’s former school was turned into rubble.”

Mohammed’s mother is concerned that her son may stay illiterate. “It saddens me to see him like this. All his older siblings know how to read and write. I’m really worried about his future,” she said.

But she also worries about Mohammed’s wellbeing and his social skills. She saw a change in her son’s behaviour since he has been out of school: “He became more and more isolated over time and now he spends most of his time playing games on my phone. He doesn’t want to see anyone, and he doesn’t have any friends,” she adds.

Desta*, a migrant worker, who lives in Beirut Lebanon, hugging her 3-year-old son. Photo: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

Legal barriers to education

Documentation requirements including civil documentation, legal residency and lack of previously certified learning, often prevent refugee children from enrolling in school. Children of migrant workers in Lebanon also face these challenges as a result of their fragile legal status in the country. Their documents are often confiscated by their sponsors, which makes it harder for them to register their children. A child without an official birth certificate will not be able to have access to education and other essential services.

Desta*, for example, is unable to enrol her four-year-old son at any school because he doesn’t have an official birth certificate.

“I don’t have a passport nor any legal documents. That’s why I can’t register my son in a school,” Desta* said. “I don’t mind starving. I don’t mind if I have nothing to eat. I just want him to attend school and to study.”

Over 15,000 children are born to migrant workers in Lebanon, and most of these children are declared stateless. In cases where the father doesn't acknowledge his children, it is very complicated to register their birth.

Also a wellbeing crisis

According to a recent study conducted by the Centre for Lebanese Studies (CLS), the Lebanese crisis has poorly affected the academic performance of children at school and their overall psychological well-being. Dropping out of school can expose children to many forms of abuse and exploitation and provide children with less hope for their future. The most vulnerable children are children from low-income households or living in rural areas and migrants and refugees.

Better Learning Programme (BLP)

We know that learning simply cannot happen without wellbeing. Therefore, NRC ensures that children who have experienced unimaginable trauma are equipped with the skills, knowledge and support they need to overcome the memories that haunt them.

Teaching staff and caregivers also need support to ensure their own wellbeing. It’s essential that mental health and psychosocial support programmes are integrated into education responses to address the ever-increasing needs of displaced and conflict-affected communities across the Middle East.

School crisis affecting Lebanese too

Due to the ongoing economic crisis, Lebanese children are also facing challenges to access quality education. A recent UNICEF study showed that four out of ten young people in Lebanon are now using the money that they used to spend on education to buy food, medicine and other basic needs. Also, three in ten youth have completely dropped out of schools to earn money. Dropping out of education and learning can severely affect young people’s life-long education and longer-term employment prospects.

With the support from European Union Humanitarian Aid, the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) provides basic literacy and numeracy classes and other non-formal education programmes to children who are unable to enrol in schools in Lebanon.

* Some names have been changed for protection purposes.