Nothing but the truth. Even if against me.

Nothing but the truth. Even if against me.

Tuesday, October 1, 2024

Africans in Lebanon: Students and Maids

The BBC story below highlights the fact that African students live and learn in Lebanon's many reputed universities. What it doesn't say, however, is that there are many more African maids in Lebanese households than there are African students in Lebanese campuses.

The status of maids in Lebanon, African or otherwise but always from poor rural backgrounds in third world countries, has improved in recent years, not out of compassion by the many snotty, racist and barbarian Lebanese who have historically abused their household helpers, but because the collapse of Lebanon since 2017 has shrunken the pool of available foreign maids and impoverished the Lebanese. 

The Lebanese, like Arabs of the Gulf, have maids because they are lazy and can afford the $200-400 a month they beggar from their expatriate relatives overseas. If the Lebanese were normal people, they would not need a maid. Normal average people (excluding older people or disabled people...) in normal countries of the first world consider having a live-in maid a highly unusual, somewhat unethical thing that is reserved for the ultra-rich living in castles. Right? Normal average people all around the world do their own household chores, cook their own food, walk their own dog, etc... But not the pathetic me-too-west-imitation monkey Lebanese who learned the "maid" business from their many expats in the filthy Arab Gulf where showoff, superficiality, ostentation... are highly prized.

To the average Lebanese household, having a maid is an ostentatious display of "arrivisme" (I have made it. I am rich. I am not a lowly person who has to do his/her own household chores. I have people who do the menial chores for me, etc...). When, in fact, the "mister" of the maid is, in his own country of Lebanon, not that far higher on the social status than his/her maid. I've seen relatively poor households living in remote villages having a maid. The "mister" or "madame" probably drives a huge SUV that can barely navigate Lebanon's sinewy mountain roads. The environment and the other drivers? Fuck them. The mister-madame's car plate probably has 4 digits. Social status - fake or real - in Lebanon can be projected onto one's car plate number: Low class: 6 numbers. Middle class: 5 numbers. Upper middle class: 4 numbers. Upper class, elite, corrupt politicians, MPs, bishops and mullahs, etc.: 3 numbers and above. Also, dark shaded windows add to the "VIP" look that is the ultimate ambition for the Lebanese idiots, even though the car make and year do not match the shaded windows: You'll often see things like a barely running 1999 Honda Civic with shaded windows and a very expensive 4-digit car plate.

By the way, when you "buy" the maid from the agency, they give you her "uniform" with her: a pink or blue outfit with white crocheted frilly edges. So do not be suprised as you take your evening stroll to see an African, a Nepalese, or a Sri Lankan maid walking the mister's dog, especially around the "fine" neighborhoods of Beirut or other snotty mountain towns like Rabieh. The mister or madame do not have time to walk their own friggin' dog.

I digressed. But I was pleased to know that there are students from Africa who are studying in Lebanon. Too bad the country could not provide them with the stability they need to complete their studies. It hasn't even provided it to its own people for 5 or 6 decades.

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Africans in Lebanon: ‘Everyone is nervous on campus’
Priyanka Sippy - BBC News
Tue, October 1, 2024



Sharon Atyang from Uganda is in the final year of her master's degree in Beirut [Sharon Atyang ]

Farai Makamba, a 27-year-old student from Zimbabwe, used to keep his university books on his desk at home in Beirut.

Now they’ve been replaced by his passport, travel documents and cash.

“I have a plan for myself in case I need to leave urgently,” he says.

Mr Makamba, whose name we have changed to protect his identity, returned to Lebanon in September to finish the final year of his master’s degree in mechanical engineering.

He spent the summer holiday at home in Harare.

He came back with the hope that the conflict would de-escalate. But since Hamas attacked Israel on 7 October last year, there has been near-daily cross-border fire between Israel and Hamas’s ally Hezbollah, the Iran-backed military group which is based in Lebanon.

This last week has seen the deadliest days of conflict in Lebanon in almost 20 years.

As many as one million people have been forced from their homes across Lebanon, the country's Prime Minister, Najib Mikati, has said.

Israel’s military says it is carrying out a wave of “extensive” strikes in southern Lebanon and the Beqaa area, aiming to destroy Hezbollah infrastructure. The group's leader Hassan Nasrallah was killed in an airstrike on Friday.

The week before last, 39 people were killed and thousands wounded when pagers and walkie-talkies used by Hezbollah members exploded across the country. Hezbollah blamed Israel, which has neither confirmed nor denied it was behind the attack.

The US, UK, Australia, France, Canada and India have all issued official advice for their citizens to leave Lebanon as soon as possible.

African students have told BBC News they now face a dilemma - whether to remain in Lebanon as Israel continues to attack or return home to countries such as Uganda, Zimbabwe and Cameroon.

At the American University of Beirut (AUB), where Mr Makamba is studying, there are around 90 African students on a scholarship programme.

Mr Makamba says there has been a “huge jump in fear” among students, especially since the pager and walkie-talkie explosions.

“We don’t know who is carrying a ticking time bomb in their pockets,” he says.

“Is it your taxi driver? Is it your Uber driver? Is it the person you are walking next to?”

Mr Makamba's days used to be filled with classes and seeing friends. Now he says he only leaves the house to go to shop for essentials and the tension is palpable.

He recently stocked up on staples such as bread, pasta and bottled water in case of shortages.

The campus is closed and several of his classes have been moved online.

“Everyone is nervous. Even the way we communicate is different,” he says.

“When we finish class, our professor now says: 'Have a good day and stay safe.' We say the same thing because we know what is happening in the country.”

“No-one is safe.”

Public schools have also closed and the ministry of education says they are being used to accommodate people who have fled their homes because of the Israeli airstrikes in the south of the country.

"I don’t know if I travel home that they would bring me back here if the situation stabilises"", Source: Sharon Atyang, Source description: Master's student in Beirut, Image: Sharon Atyang

The scholarship programme funding African students at AUB has given international students the option to go home and finish their course online.

But some say that will not be possible.

Sharon Atyang, a 27-year-old student from northern Uganda, is currently completing her master’s in community development at AUB.

She says electricity and internet issues at home will make it almost impossible to complete her studies online.

“I am also on a scholarship, and I don’t know if I travel home that they would bring me back here if the situation stabilises,” she says.

Adele Pascaline from Cameroon, whose name has been changed to protect her identity, also says completing her undergraduate radiology degree back home will be almost impossible.

“I cannot do my clinical rotations back home, but I need to complete them as part of my degree,” she says.

Nevertheless, the continuing attacks have meant she now has a return ticket.

The Mastercard Scholarship Program finances dozens of African students in Lebanon.

Mastercard Foundation said it is closely monitoring developments and working with AUB to support students.

Its spokesperson said: “AUB is regularly communicating with the students and has offered support for their health and well-being.

"The academic curriculum remains flexible and necessary accommodations have been made to account for the current disruptions and to ensure academic continuity for the enrolled students. International students who wish to return home are supported to do so.”

While it is still possible to leave Beirut via the international airport, tickets are difficult to get hold of. Several airlines such as Emirates, Qatar Airways, Air France and Lufthansa have suspended their flights to and from the city.

Ms Atyang says that from her bedroom in Beirut, she can hear the sounds of the sonic booms caused by Israeli fighter jets flying low over the city.

“I was in a reading room and when I heard the sound barrier breaking, I just ran. But I had nowhere to run. I found myself hiding in the toilet,” she says.

The stress of waiting for another attack has left her “emotionally and mentally unstable – [unable] to do anything”.

She said many students have asked their professors to extend deadlines for assignments.

Between trying to study and write her thesis, Ms Atyang is also answering frantic calls from her family in Uganda.

“They are demanding that I go back home, they are telling me I need to prioritise my life over academics.”

Some African governments have begun evacuations.

The Principal Secretary for Diaspora Affairs in Kenya, Roseline Njogu, confirmed that nine Kenyans had arrived back in the country in August.

She urged other Kenyans who wished to leave to register for evacuation with the embassy. There are an estimated 26,000 Kenyans currently in Lebanon.

Last month, the former spokesperson for Ethiopia's Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Nebiyu Tedla, told the BBC they were monitoring the situation closely and were “preparing plans to evacuate if necessary”.

He added that there were an estimated 150,000 Ethiopians in Lebanon, the vast majority domestic workers.

Some of these workers face additional challenges as they work under Lebanon’s strict kafala system, which means they must ask permission from their employers to leave.

For students like Mr Makamba and Ms Atyang, getting out of Lebanon might be easier to organise. But they are held back because of their desperation to finish their studies.

Both say they will make a decision in the next few days.

Ms Atyang says it is particularly hard for African students.

“You are on your own, and you have to take care of yourself,” she says.

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