Omaya, pregnant and exhausted by conflict
Health
Rights
Lebanon
Omaya is living with a disability. She is pregnant and had to flee the bombing in Beirut. Her life has been in disarray for years.
Omaya at home | © HI
Omaya is living with a disability. She is pregnant and had to flee the bombing in Beirut. Her life has been in disarray for years.
Omaya at home | © HI
Originally from Syria, Omaya, 28, has been living in Lebanon since 2017. She used to live in Beirut until the recent war damaged her home and displaced her family last April. She currently lives with her husband and son in a small caretaker's room near a Palestinian camp, one of the areas affected by the Israeli airstrikes on Beirut.
"Our building was damaged during the war. After that, kind people helped us find a small caretaker's room to stay in. It has only one room, a small kitchen, and a bathroom. The living conditions are very difficult, and our relationship with the neighbours is not easy. Financially, life is extremely hard — we struggle every day to afford food and basic necessities. We have a small child who needs milk and diapers, and we have accumulated a lot of debts. Because of my disability, I also need medication that I usually bring from Syria — it costs around 15 USD and lasts only two weeks. Even this pregnancy was not planned, given our difficult circumstances, but it is God's will."
Omaya has hereditary muscular dystrophy, a genetic condition that causes progressive muscle weakness and physical disability. She requires continuous medication and physiotherapy to preserve her mobility and strength. Without ongoing treatment, her condition may worsen significantly, increasing the risk of losing her ability to stand or walk.
She is currently eight months pregnant, a stage that already carries increased risks due to her condition. Her previous caesarean section adds to these risks, requiring close medical monitoring. However, because of her family's financial hardship, she was unable to afford antenatal care (ANC) and did not receive her first ANC visit until recently:
In Syria, Omaya had regular access to physiotherapy and the medication she needed to help slow the progression of her condition. However, accessing these essential health services has become difficult and unaffordable. She also suffers from the stares and judgment of others because of her disability.
"Sometimes people judge me because of my impairment. People doubt my ability to be a good mother and to be able to take care of my child. Those words hurt more than my condition. I want to be seen like every other mother. I dream of raising my children without people telling me that I am not capable because of my disability. People with disabilities need kindness, dignity, and support. We need people to believe in us and remind us that we still have a place in society."
Omaya learned about HI's support for pregnant women through her aunt, who is also a person living with a disability and had previously benefited from HI's services.
With HI's assistance, Omaya received free pregnancy follow-up, ultrasound examinations, psychosocial support sessions, physiotherapy with transportation assistance, and a baby kit containing essential newborn items.
"HI gave me hope again. The antenatal care helped me follow my pregnancy safely, and the psychosocial support made me feel calmer. Receiving physiotherapy again changed my daily life. The baby kit helped us because we could not afford to buy these things ourselves. I truly needed this. I felt that someone finally cared about me. It gave me a new chance in life... I felt alive again."
Omaya explains that the psychological impact of the wars is overwhelming:
"The war affected my mental health deeply. I was constantly afraid that I would no longer be able to get my medication because of the movement restrictions caused by the war. That fear stayed with me every day. During the war, I became depressed. I was constantly anxious and frightened. My little son would cry from fear, and I cried with him. The sound of fighter jets and explosions terrified me and wouldn't let me sleep properly. My heart would race, and I could not stop shaking."
The sound of the bombings in Beirut triggered traumatic memories from her childhood in Syria, when she witnessed airstrikes near her home that resulted in the death of neighbours and family members:
" For me, the war was nothing but fear and terror. I escaped the war in Syria hoping to find safety in Lebanon, but the war followed me again. My home in Syria was destroyed, and the war in Lebanon damaged our home here as well. During the escalation, we were asked to leave the building where we had been working as caretakers. For a period of time, my husband, my son, and I had nowhere to go. We slept under a bridge on cardboard. People passing by gave us blankets and pillows until a relative took us in. Every day I feared for my little boy. I held him tightly in my arms, afraid the building would collapse on us. When the peace agreement was signed, I finally felt a little relief.”
At twelve years old, Rogette is a shy and endearing young girl. She now lives in Ziguinchor so that she can study at a special school for children who are deaf.
Schumen Kamalu works as a driver for Humanity & Inclusion, a profession still widely regarded as a man’s job. For her, driving is much more than just a job; it is a genuine passion and a source of pride.
Humanity & Inclusion’s teams are continuing to support those affected by the disaster: through rehabilitation, mental health support and the provision of essential supplies, help is being provided to those in need.
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ABOUT US
Humanity & Inclusion UK
Romero House,
55 Westminster Bridge Road,
London
SE1 7JB
UK registered charity no. 1082565
MORE INFORMATION
SEARCH