News

By Saro Manoukian*

It was the sound of a whirring pencil that first grasped my attention. All the other children in the class quietly and carefully coloured their pictures, paying close attention to the lines that they had to stay in, but not Ihab. He sat amongst the other children, but acted differently. He scribbled as quickly as he could, all over the page as if there were no lines at all. What he wanted to colour, he coloured, and he coloured with passion.

By: Ahmed Bayram & Aliaa Awada

Ascending rugged hills uncovers the fertile mountains that embrace this village. Shebaa, on the southeastern edge of Lebanon, is a typically calm place that has gone quieter this morning. It has taken us three hours to get here which, by Lebanon’s standards, is a marathon journey.

The damaged schools that children in Syria once learned in and the abandoned parks where young friends spent joyful times have been visited by viewers in Lebanon over a 100 kilometres away, with a pair of Virtual Reality glasses.

Sending their young daughter to read her first letter was a prospect that brought Heya’s parents more apprehension than excitement.

Hundreds of thousands of Syrians risk being pushed to return in 2018 despite ongoing violence, warn aid agencies

For every Syrian who returned home last year, three more were newly displaced