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Scars on every street. The refugee camp where generations of Palestinians

have lost their futures. By Rayth Abdul Ahad.

Some names have been changed.

Last year Kamal took his eldest son Hassan to meet a people smuggler.

Kamal had made up his mind.

He had to find a way to get his son, who was 21, out of Chutillo refugee camp in southern Beirut,

where three generations of his family had now spent their whole lives. I wanted him to leave not because of the financial

situation, thank God we are doing okay, but I sent him away to escape life in this camp,

Camal told me recently.

There is no future here for the young.

Kamal, a man in his late 40s with broad shoulders, an angular jaw and dark curly hair,

is a marginally well-to-do businessman within the impoverished confines of Chatilla.

He owns a small shop that sells mobile phones and

cosmetics. Even so, to come up with the five thousand dollars demanded by the

smuggler he had to borrow a hefty sum, in addition to spending all his savings.

Recounting the story, Kamal spoke quickly jamming sentences together.

His face was gaunt and dark circles framed his eyes. He looked exhausted.

Hassan set off on his journey to Europe in May 2023. First he flew to Cairo, then he was driven through the desert into Libya.

At that point, Hassan called his father and told him that he and his fellow migrants were being held in a barn while they waited for the boat to take them across the Mediterranean.

...