BEIRUT: Amal Al-Merhi’s twin 10-month-old daughters often go without milk or diapers.
She feeds them a mix of cornstarch and water, because milk is too expensive. Instead of diapers, Merhi ties plastic bags around her babies’ waists.
The effect of their poverty is clear, she said.
“If you see one of the twins, you would not believe she is 10-months-old,” Merhi said in a phone interview. “She is so small and soft.”
The 20-year-old Syrian mother lives in a tent with her family of five in an informal camp in Bar Elias in Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley.
She fled Syria’s civil war in 2013 and has been relying on cash assistance from the United Nations refugee agency UNHCR to get by.
But that has ended.
Merhi and her family are among the millions of people affected by US President Donald Trump’s decision to freeze USAID funding to humanitarian programs.
Since the freeze, the UNHCR and the World Food Program (WFP) have had to limit the amount of aid they provide to some of the world’s most vulnerable people in countries from Lebanon to Chad and Ukraine.
In February, the WFP was forced to cut the number of Syrian refugees receiving cash assistance to 660,000 from 830,000, meaning the organization is reaching 76 percent of the people it planned to target, a spokesperson said.
Meanwhile, the WFP’s shock responsive safety net that supports Lebanese citizens cut its beneficiaries to 40,000 from 162,000 people, the spokesperson added.
The UNHCR has been forced to reduce all aspects of its operations in Lebanon, said Ivo Freijsen, UNHCR’s country representative, in an interview.
The agency cut 347,000 people from the UNHCR component of a WFP-UNHCR joint program as of April, a spokesperson said. Every family had been receiving $45 monthly from UNHCR, they added.
The group can support 206,000 Syrian refugees until June, when funds will dry up, they also said.
“We need to be very honest to everyone that the UNHCR of the past that could be totally on top of issues in a very expedient manner with lots of quality and resources — that is no longer the case,” Freijsen said. “We regret that sincerely.”
BAD TO WORSE
By the end of March, the UNHCR had enough money to cover only 17 percent of its planned global operations, and the budget for Lebanon is only 14 percent funded.
Lebanon is home to the largest refugee population per capita in the world.
Roughly 1.5 million Syrians, half of whom are formally registered with the UNHCR, live alongside some 4 million Lebanese.
Islamist-led rebels ousted former Syrian leader Bashar Assad in December, installing their own government and security forces. Since then there have been outbreaks of deadly sectarian violence, and fears among minorities are rising.
In March, hundreds of Syrians fled to Lebanon after killings targeted the minority Alawite sect.
Lebanon has been in the grips of unyielding crises since its economy imploded in 2019. The war between Israel and armed group Hezbollah is expected to wipe billions of dollars from the national wealth as well, the United Nations has said.
Economic malaise has meant fewer jobs for everyone, including Syrian refugees.
“My husband works one day and then sits at home for 10,” Merhi said. “We need help. I just want milk and diapers for my kids.”
DANGEROUS CHOICES
The UNHCR has been struggling with funding cuts for years, but the current cuts are “much more rapid and sizeable” and uncertainty prevails, said Freijsen.
“A lot of other questions are still to be answered, like, what will be the priorities? What will still be funded?” Freijsen asked.
Syrian refugees and vulnerable communities in Lebanon might be forced to make risky or dangerous choices, he said.
Some may take out loans. Already about 80 percent of Syrian refugees are in debt to pay for rent, groceries and medical bills, Freijsen said. Children may also be forced to work.
“Women may be forced into commercial sex work,” he added.
Issa Idris, a 50-year-old father of three, has not received any cash assistance from UNHCR since February and has been forced to take on debt to buy food.
“They cut us off with no warning,” he said.
He now owes a total of $3,750, used to pay for food, rent and medicine, and he has no idea how he will pay it back.
He cannot work because of an injury, but his 18-year-old son sometimes finds work as a day laborer.
“We are lucky. We have someone who can work. Many do not,” he said.
Merhi too has fallen into debt. The local grocer is refusing to lend her any more money, and last month power was cut until the family paid the utility bill.
She and her husband collect and sell scrap metal to buy food.
“We are adults. We can eat anything,” she said, her voice breaking. “The kids cannot. It is not their fault.”
