UNHCR, hope and disappointment

After all of the suffering, pain and risks that I faced during my adventure to leave Iraq, I felt that I would find some help from the UNHCR in Lebanon, because I was a refugee running away from Saddam’s regime. The first thing I looked for when I got to Beirut was the UNHCR office; I didn’t know anything much about the UNHCR at the time! I even didn’t even know where their office was located in Beirut! I didn’t know anyone in Lebanon; I was a complete stranger and lost, little money, no legal papers, no passport, no legal residency and knowing no one at all. I had to sleep in the streets until I found the office of UNHCR.

I went to the office of UNHCR early in the morning and I submitted an application for refugee status, I filled in a form and they gave me a small paper with my name on it, the number of my file and a date for an interview (I will explain more about the procedures of the UNHCR in the next chapter). When I got there, no one explained the procedure that an asylum seeker needs to go through, so they would be able to get the refugee status that's needed. (For example they could have put a paper on the wall to help us to understand our status in the country, so the appropriate measures could be taken).

In the office a woman gave me an application form to fill out, so I did but didn't understand what for! She then gave me a paper, and told me to come back in 3 months on this date. On the paper it said “My Name” had submitted an application for refugee status in our office, we hope from the authority of Lebanon to give him the help which is needed all over the territory of Lebanon. These details were spoken in Arabic as well as in English. I thought this paper was equal to that of legal residence permission, because I didn’t think they would do something like this without the approval of the authorities of Lebanon, it's logical and no one gave me any other details about it. So I began to feel happy and safe, because I thought this paper was telling me I was safe and I was allowed to be there.

But unfortunately, the truth isn't all what it seems to be, because this paper didn't keep me safe from police brutality. Because I didn't know anyone or have money, I slept in the street, and for that the police arrested me, and they told me; The paper of the UNHCR does not apply to Lebanon, because Lebanon didn't sign the 1951 UN Convention, and that I'm in Lebanon illegally, and so they took me to prison.

There I met other people in the same situation as of myself; People from different nationalities, and of course some from Iraq. They told me it's Ok, not to worry, that the UNHCR will come to get you out of prison because I am an Iraqi, that information made me feel much better. After one month, an officer came and took me from my cell, to an office in the same prison to see a man; he asked me to sit down, and he started to question me directly. He asked me questions like ‘what is your name? What country I'm from? What work do I do? And why am I here?’ It looked like the formal questions he asked every day with everyone, and there were no particular questions about my case.

I would love to bring to your attention some important points:
1) This man never told me who he was, what he was doing or the reasons for the questions?
2) I was handcuffed.
3) He didn't tell me what would happen, what would be the next procedure.
4) I didn't get chance to tell him any of the details that I have put here.

When the meeting was finished, I asked him; "What will happen to me?" "Could you please release me from prison"?

He told me; “we will see”. I insisted with more strength on an answer to my question, and I repeated it again; His answer was; "I'm not the judge".

And just like that, the meeting had finished. So I went back to my cell, and I waited for him, hoping he would soon release me from prison. But nothing happened, day after day, I would ask the officers about him. They told me “the UNHCR has rejected your application for refugee status”. I asked; "How do you know this”; the officers told me, “because the UNHCR didn't come to help release you from prison”.

That meant they didn't care about me. They didn't consider that a human being has the right to know the results of the interview, if I can call all that an interview. Logically speaking he needed to come and instruct me about what I needed to do, and tell me if the result of my application for refugee status had been rejected.

Now I knew from the Internet what I needed to do. "I have the right to appeal" I must make this appeal within 30 days of the rejection decision. Now here was another problem: How was it possible that I could now make an appeal within 30 days when had been in prison for more than a month? Without any information being given to me about appealing for my refugee status or rights!!!!!

So I lost trust in them, since they weren’t capable of helping me, moreover, I thought they were dishonest people that deceived and mislead people who went to them looking for help, they were a disaster for the common asylum seeker looking for refugee status. This is my opinion and feelings of how I feel about them, and many others that have been in the same situation as myself feel likewise.

That was not only because they didn’t came to inform me about the result of the interview but also because they didn’t care about the situation in the prison where the asylum seekers and the refugees spent months waiting for the UNHCR or for deportation out of Lebanon after unlimited time in jail. I felt that especially after all that happened to me personally in jail, so let me tell you honestly the full story about the situation in a Lebanese jail:

The jail was a very small old building, 2 floors only. On the first floor are the cells and on top the offices of the police. It’s called Al jdaida prison, it was only for the foreigners, it is supposed to deal with the situation of illegal residents in Lebanon by two means, first maybe to release them to live freely in Lebanon, second is to send them to their own countries without spending a penny of the government of Lebanon. That mean’s every prisoner must buy a ticket home from his pocket, with his own money; to leave Lebanon other wise he will stay in prison forever. Many prisoners didn’t have the money or they were simply unable to go back home for many reasons.

So the Lebanese made the prison as hard as possible to push the prisoners to pay for their tickets out of hell. It was awful and very inhuman; there were 2 rooms for men and one room for women. Always the rooms are full of prisoners, at night we barely had a place to sleep on the floor, we slept man next to man with no space between us, no mattress, and no covers. I was there in the Summer time and it’s hot in Lebanon then, and even hotter in prison, because there is no air-conditioning or big windows. There was only one small one, not big enough for a man to pass through and it had a steel plate on it with small holes in it. It was hard for the air to pass through the holes or even the sun light. The door was the same, just a piece of steel with small holes hardly big enough for a cigarette to pass through, when it’s closed no draught came through, but when it was open we could get a little fresh air. This led to much fighting with the police to keep it open in the day, it opened to inside the jail but the police didn’t like to keep it open because of the smell that come from the cell.

It’s easy to understand why we smelled in the cell, there were 200-300 prisoners in this small room, without any ventilation in the hot summer with only 2 small bathrooms!!! One had a water tap, from which the water slowly trickled out. I remember that I needed to stand in line for hours to fill an empty Coca-Cola bottle (2 liters) with water for drinking or to wash myself in the daytime because they close the bathroom at night. Not enough water, no soap, no ventilation, 2 small bathrooms for 200 persons!!! What was the result??? I remember when I met Mr. Domenic, the lawyer from UNHCR he was in a big hurry to leave because of the smell.

The good thing in that jail was, no smoking! Cigarettes were not permitted to enter the cells, thank GOD. And the food, they give the prisoners food for free was like this:

Morning; half Lebanese bread with a little yogurt on it, plus half of small cup of tea.

Noon; half Lebanese bread with corned beef plus half Lebanese bread with jam.

Night; complete Lebanese bread with boiled potatoes.

That is all every day no change, no vegetable and no fruit. I was ate like this for 2 months and dreamt often of just eating a tomato or a cucumber.

It was a very hard situation, hard to bare it and hard to understand it. These circumstances pushed the prisoners to rise up against the police with certain demands. One time we prisoners agreed we had had enough, and we rose up to demand better treatment, so on the agreed day we opened the door and charged out of our cell into the corridor and got upset, and caused some trouble. I was one of the first ones out. Some big chief of the police came and spoke to us and promised us that he will try to solve some of our problems, we agreed to stop our up rising and return to our cell, but before we went back we cleaned the lobby and we tried to put everything back into some order. I was working in the lobby with another prisoner and an officer sent a policeman to me and he took me out side the prison in the main street. I saw a big crowd of people and special police force with firemen and an ambulance. One of the officers took the police truncheon or nightstick from the policeman and told me to get on my knees. I refused and so then he started to beat me on my back I stayed standing and wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing I was in pain or begging him to stop. He beat me in front of every body publicly!!! Until my back became red, still I would not cry out, after this he told me to go back to the cell.

These were the policies of Lebanon government, to force the illegal immigrants to pay for their own deportation expenses by crowding prisoners in small stinking cells without enough room to lie down and sleep on the floor, enough water for drinking and certainly not for washing, the bare minimum of food and nearly no ventilation in a very hot climate!!!

I saw this all and suffered it myself and after 7 years I continue to hear about it from others until this day. It cut deep lines of sadness and disappointment into my soul. All this was happening with complete seeming indifference from those whom claimed that they were working to help people protect their human rights, like the UNHCR. Hundreds of these immigrants are asylum seekers and refugees; they have suffered very much under these policies. Also many people have disappeared to unknown destinations some documented by Amnesty, this has been happening with the asylum seekers and refugees without any word in the press or from the UNHCR.

What do you think these people feel after experiencing all this pain, suffering and disappointment? How do you think they see the UNHCR? I lost my trust and respect in them and in those who work for them so I didn’t go there again for a long time! That was 7 years ago and today my feelings about UNHCR are more deep and strong than ever, the reasons for this I will explain in next chapter.