Victoria Mørck Madsen
Photojournalist
Born a refugee
70 years ago Burj al-Barajneh camp was an expanse of tents in a suburb of Beirut, Lebanon. The camp was created to house Palestinians made refugees by the 1948 Israeli invasion of Palestine.
Little by little, as the possibility of returning to Palestine seemed more and more unlikely, the tents turned into ramshackle concrete buildings which were eventually engulfed by the city of Beirut. The temporary camp became permanent as did 12 other Palestinians refugee camps around Lebanon. Conditions in these camps are extremely poor and can be downright dangerous. Moreover, the refugees and their descendants remain stateless and with limited options in life.
Ayman Mahmoud, 13 years old, was born here, like generations of Palestinian refugees before him. The camp is all he has ever known. Ayman’s biggest dream is leaving Lebanon and taking his family with him.
“The Lebanese don’t want us Palestinians to be part of their country. That’s why we live in our own little cities and go to our own schools. I’ve also been told that there are many jobs I can’t have when I grow up because I am Palestinian. But my father always told be to be proud of being Palestinian, so I am”.
Ayman walks his little sister Bayan to school every day and makes sure she gets there safely.
“Some places, there are so many power lines that you can’t see the sky. We have to be careful when walking, once my brother got a bad electric shock, because he touched a power line”.
It’s important to Ayman to do well in school. He wants to make his mother proud and honor the promise he made to his father before he died to become a nurse like him.
Ayman’s favourite subject is math, but he likes English too. He hopes that if he gets really good at English, it might make it easier to leave Lebanon.
Ayman goes to an all boy’s school. There are 850 student, all of them Palestians.
Aymans brother Amjad works at an internet café, so Ayman can play his favourite game PopG for free. When their father died, Amjad became the head of the family. He works 11 hours a day to add to the subsidy the family is given beacuse of their refugee status, but the budget is still tight.
Immediately after school Ayman hurries home to have lunch with his sister and mother. Ayman’s mother has been in mourning since his father suddenly died from a cerebral hemorrhage four weeks ago. According to her faith she must mourn inside the house for four months, so Ayman wants to keep her company.
A large part of the Ayman’s afternoons are spent zooming around the streets with his brother Ayham. The brothers share a scooter and Ayman taught himself to ride it when he was just ten.
“I have to be back home at 5pm, because I receive private lessons in English. My family hopes I can get a good education and provide for all of us, but I worry how long we’ll be able to afford my school”, says Ayman.
His father’s ring has become Ayman’s most prized possession. He wants to wear it all the time, but he’s afraid he’ll lose it, so it mostly stays in his room. Every night Ayman has trouble sleeping, as he lies awake thinking of his father.