Hardships damper holiday spirit for Palestinian refugees in Jordan

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Updated 19 April 2023
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Hardships damper holiday spirit for Palestinian refugees in Jordan

  • Jerash Camp is the poorest of the 10 Palestinian refugee camps in Jordan
  • Camp residents see a surge of donations during Ramadan, but philanthropic mistakes limit effectiveness of aid

AMMAN: Every year during Ramadan, the festive atmosphere in Amman comes alive, and in the city’s affluent western districts, it is not uncommon for families to gather for iftars at five-star hotels, complete with lavish buffets, live music and twinkling lanterns.

Roughly 50 km north of Jordan’s capital, however, thousands of Palestinian refugees observe the holy month this year in a worn-down encampment.

Most struggle to afford food to break their fasts, and children in the camp who have only seen extravagant feasts on television screens ask their mothers: “Why don’t you cook for us like this?”

Fasting during the holy month is one of the five pillars of Islam. 

In fasting, all observant Muslims are bound through a shared, deeply spiritual experience in which gratitude is instilled through the deprivation of God’s gift of food and drink. 

“Ramadan is a time of unity, but it is also a time to reflect on disparity,” Maryam, a 56-year-old refugee, said when Arab News visited Jerash Camp in April. 

“It is true that during the hours of fasting, we have the same feelings of hunger and thirst,” she added. 

“But for the fortunate, an abundance of food is waiting for them at the end of the day. For us living in this camp, deprivation follows us all year round. So, our spiritual experiences could not be any more different.”

Jordan hosts more than 2.2 million Palestinian refugees registered with UNRWA, and Jerash Camp (known locally as Gaza Camp) is one of many across the country.

Despite their prevailing hardships, camp residents find ways to embrace the Islamic traditions that are most important to this auspicious month. 

“I enjoy Ramadan like every Muslim. We pray, we practice our worship rituals, we pay more attention to the family, and we are like an extended family in Gaza Camp,” 57-year-old Jihad said. 

“For me, Ramadan means love, compassion and connection to God. It is a special time where people come together and help each other, but after that people disperse and worry about their own issues,” 75-year-old Mohammed said. 

According to UNICEF in 2021, Gaza Camp is the poorest of the 10 Palestine refugee camps in Jordan, with the majority of households falling below the poverty threshold.

“We struggle particularly during Ramadan. Spending is higher because of the daily costs of preparing larger meals to break our fast and the additional food requirements of the children,” 47-year-old Hanan said. 

Others, however, find that their financial woes are alleviated slightly this month.

“We receive a lot more help during Ramadan… Otherwise, we don’t usually experience this scale of support,” 57-year-old Moslih said.

Ramadan, besides being a month of fasting, emphasizes compassion, good deeds and giving to those less fortunate. It is a time of year when Muslims ramp up their charitable efforts and donate generously to humanitarian aid in places like Gaza Camp.

While refugees, many of whom depend on assistance to stay afloat, expressed their gratitude to donors, they also highlighted the fatal flaws in philanthropy that limit its effectiveness. 

Mohammed claims there is a lack of credibility in informal fundraisers operating locally.

“Some people collect donations on our behalf, but we only receive a portion of the proceeds. Where do the rest go?” he said. 

Rana, 37, also pointed out that giving directly has its issues. 

“A lot of the direct donations come in the form of food packages and coupons during Ramadan, but there is no fairness in its distribution,” she said.

“Most refugees receive aid from donors they know, but a lot of us don’t know anyone, so we’re left with nothing.

“And the large organizations end up helping people who are severely disabled, but the majority of us are struggling from unemployment,” she added.

Due to their non-citizen status, Palestinian refugees in Jordan face legal restrictions that limit their access to employment opportunities, healthcare and other social services. 

“If we were provided with jobs, we would never stretch our hands out for help. Many university graduates are sitting at home, so are technicians, artisans. All of them have no jobs,” Hanan said.


’No one to back us’: Arab bus drivers in Israel grapple with racist attacks

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’No one to back us’: Arab bus drivers in Israel grapple with racist attacks

  • “People began running toward me and shouting at me, ‘Arab, Arab!’” recalled Khatib, a Palestinian from east Jerusalem

JERUSALEM: What began as an ordinary shift for Jerusalem bus driver Fakhri Khatib ended hours later in tragedy.
A chaotic spiral of events, symptomatic of a surge in racist violence targeting Arab bus drivers in Israel, led to the death of a teenager, Khatib’s arrest and calls for him to be charged with aggravated murder.
His case is an extreme one, but it sheds light on a trend bus drivers have been grappling with for years, with a union counting scores of assaults in Jerusalem alone and advocates lamenting what they describe as an anaemic police response.
One evening in early January, Khatib found his bus surrounded as he drove near the route of a protest by Israel’s ultra-Orthodox Jewish community.
“People began running toward me and shouting at me, ‘Arab, Arab!’” recalled Khatib, a Palestinian from east Jerusalem.
“They were cursing at me and spitting on me, I became very afraid,” he told AFP.
Khatib said he called the police, fearing for his life after seeing soaring numbers of attacks against bus drivers in recent months.
But when no police arrived after a few minutes, Khatib decided to drive off to escape the crowd, unaware that 14-year-old Yosef Eisenthal was holding onto his front bumper.
The Jewish teenager was killed in the incident and Khatib arrested.
Police initially sought charges of aggravated murder but later downgraded them to negligent homicide.
Khatib was released from house arrest in mid-January and is awaiting the final charge.

- Breaking windows -

Drivers say the violence has spiralled since the start of the Gaza war in October 2023 and continued despite the ceasefire, accusing the state of not doing enough to stamp it out or hold perpetrators to account.
The issue predominantly affects Palestinians from annexed east Jerusalem and the country’s Arab minority, Palestinians who remained in what is now Israel after its creation in 1948 and who make up about a fifth of the population.
Many bus drivers in cities such as Jerusalem and Haifa are Palestinian.
There are no official figures tracking racist attacks against bus drivers in Israel.
But according to the union Koach LaOvdim, or Power to the Workers, which represents around 5,000 of Israel’s roughly 20,000 bus drivers, last year saw a 30 percent increase in attacks.
In Jerusalem alone, Koach LaOvdim recorded 100 cases of physical assault in which a driver had to be evacuated for medical care.
Verbal incidents, the union said, were too numerous to count.
Drivers told AFP that football matches were often flashpoints for attacks — the most notorious being those of the Beitar Jerusalem club, some of whose fans have a reputation for anti-Arab violence.
The situation got so bad at the end of last year that the Israeli-Palestinian grassroots group Standing Together organized a “protective presence” on buses, a tactic normally used to deter settler violence against Palestinians in the Israeli-occupied West Bank.
One evening in early February, a handful of progressive activists boarded buses outside Jerusalem’s Teddy Stadium to document instances of violence and defuse the situation if necessary.
“We can see that it escalates sometimes toward breaking windows or hurting the bus drivers,” activist Elyashiv Newman told AFP.
Outside the stadium, an AFP journalist saw young football fans kicking, hitting and shouting at a bus.
One driver, speaking on condition of anonymity, blamed far-right National Security Minister Itamar Ben Gvir for whipping up the violence.
“We have no one to back us, only God.”

- ‘Crossing a red line’ -

“What hurts us is not only the racism, but the police handling of this matter,” said Mohamed Hresh, a 39-year-old Arab-Israeli bus driver who is also a leader within Koach LaOvdim.
He condemned a lack of arrests despite video evidence of assaults, and the fact that authorities dropped the vast majority of cases without charging anyone.
Israeli police did not respond to AFP requests for comment on the matter.
In early February, the transport ministry launched a pilot bus security unit in several cities including Jerusalem, where rapid-response motorcycle teams will work in coordination with police.
Transport Minister Miri Regev said the move came as violence on public transport was “crossing a red line” in the country.
Micha Vaknin, 50, a Jewish bus driver and also a leader within Koach LaOvdim, welcomed the move as a first step.
For him and his colleague Hresh, solidarity among Jewish and Arab drivers in the face of rising division was crucial for change.
“We will have to stay together,” Vaknin said, “not be torn apart.”