In north Lebanon, Syrian Alawites share "horror stories" as they shelter among graves

• Hundreds of Syrians fled to north Lebanon after violence
• Refugees left bereft, without shelter and sanitation
• Aid operations in Lebanon crippled by USAID cuts

HISSA, Lebanon - Behind a ramshackle mosque in Hissa, north Lebanon, the living are making a home for themselves among the dead.

Beside mounds of garbage in the shade of towering trees, men, women and children from Syria's minority Alawite community seek shelter among the graves surrounding the half-built mosque - grateful to have escaped the sectarian violence at home but fearing for their future.

"We each have our own horror story that drove us to this place," said a man with sunken eyes.

One such story was of a mother who had been killed in front of her children by unknown militants as they crossed the border, said others staying at the mosque.

All of the refugees that spoke to Context requested anonymity for fear of retribution.

Around 600 people have sought shelter at the Hissa mosque. Hundreds sleep in the main hall, including a day-old baby.

On the building's unfinished second story, plastic sheets stretched over wooden beams divide traumatised families.

Others sleep on the roof. One family has set up camp under the stairwell, another by the tomb of a local saint. Some sleep on the graves in the surrounding cemetery, others under trees with only thin blankets for warmth. 

They are among the tens of thousands refugees who have fled Syria since March, when the country suffered its worst bloodshed since Bashar al-Assad was toppled from power by Islamist-led rebels in December.

Almost 40,000 people have fled Syria into north Lebanon since then, the UN refugee agency UNHCR said in a statement.

The outflow comes at a time when humanitarian funding is being squeezed after U.S. President Donald Trump's decision to freeze foreign aid and dismantle the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) earlier this year.

Needs but no resources

The recent violence in Syria, which has pitted the Islamist-led government's security forces against fighters from the Alawite minority, the sect to which Assad's family belongs, has killed more than 1,000 people since March.

For more than 50 years, Assad and his father before him crushed any opposition from Syria's Sunni Muslims, who make up more than 70% of the population. Alawites, an offshoot of Shi'ite Islam, took many of the top positions in government and the military and ran big businesses.

Alawites now accuse the new government of President Ahmed al-Sharaa of exacting revenge, but Sharaa says he will pursue inclusive policies to unite the country shattered by civil war and attract foreign investment.

Trump said last week he would lift sanctions on Syria, triggering hopes of economic renewal. But this has provided little comfort to the refugees in northern Lebanon, who are struggling to meet their basic needs.

"UNHCR, but also other agencies, are not now in a position to say you can count on us," said Ivo Freijsen, UNHCR representative in Lebanon, in an interview with Context in April.

"So, in response to new arrivals, yes, we will try, but it will be less (than before)."

More refugees come from Syria every day. Almost 50 people arrived over two days last week, said one camp representative, who asked not to be named for security reasons.

UNHCR is equipping new arrivals with essential items like mattresses, blankets and clothes, as well as providing medical help and mental health support, said a spokesperson.

"UNHCR is also conducting rehabilitation works in shelters to make sure families are protected," the spokesperson added.

'Forgotten' refugees

At the mosque, food is scarce and the portable toilets provided by an aid group have flooded. Garbage is piling up and is attracting vermin. Snakes have been killed in the camp, and one refugee spoke of the "biggest centipedes we have ever seen".

The camp's children have nowhere to go.

It can be difficult for refugee children to access Lebanon's school system, Human Rights Watch has said, while the refugees at the mosque say private schools are too expensive and may not accept children enrolling mid-year.

"We are becoming a refugee camp without realising it," said another man, also speaking on condition of anonymity.

"We need schools, we need toilets, we need clinics."

He said he fled his home in Damascus after being warned by his neighbour that militants were asking about him. He never expects to go back and is hoping to move abroad.

But in the meantime, he said he needs to create a life for his children.

"What's his fault?" he asked, beckoning to his nine-year-old son. "He was a computer whiz and now he is not even going to school."

The refugees sheltering in the mosque are among the millions of people affected by Trump's decision to freeze U.S. funding to humanitarian programmes in February.

The UNHCR has been forced to reduce all aspects of its operations in Lebanon, Freijsen said, including support to Syrian refugees.

The UNHCR had enough money to cover only 14% of its planned operations in Lebanon and 17% of its global operations by the end of March, the U.N. agency said in a report.

"Our assistance is not what it is supposed to be," Freijsen said. "In the past, we always had the resources, or we could easily mobilise the resources. These days are over, and that's painful."

The people in the mosque fear that they have been forgotten.

"Human rights are a lie," a third man said, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. "It is just something (that the powerful) instrumentalise when they want."

(Reporting by Nazih Osseiran; Editing by Clar Ni Chonghaile and Ana Nicolaci da Costa.)