In Lebanon’s forgotten North, one Syrian woman becomes a lifeline for her community

From Refugee to Community Leader

Among them, one woman stands out: Maali.

Maali is from Der Er Zor, a city in eastern Syria, known for being one of the areas heavily impacted by conflict and displacement during the Syrian war. She fled Syria when she was 22 years old, leaving behind all the belongings the family had, “The situation became unbearable. Explosions were constant, and we feared for our lives every moment,” she recalls. “We left in a rush, with nothing but our clothes.”

While she describes the journey to Lebanon her hands shake, her voice trembles like it had just happened. “The journey to Lebanon was horrible, the most frightening thing I have ever done. We [ Maali parents and sister] traveled for two full days. The road was in complete chaos, and I remember certain moments being in the middle of gunfire and shelling on the road. I remember I was sure we would not make it to the border, and I was sure some, if not of all of us, was going to die”

When the family finally arrived safely in Wadi Khaled, they initially stayed with distant relatives that had arrived in Lebanon a couple of months before them. But the hospitality was short, as the tent was too small to accommodate everyone, therefore Maali and her family soon had to find their own shelter. “We ended up in an unfinished building,” she says. “There were no windows, no doors, no water, no electricity. It wasn’t safe, but it was all we had. We would sleep on the floor with some mattresses we received from the UN, and that was it. I remember the dirt on the floor that would stay on my clothes all day. I remember the humiliation and the deep sadness”.

And what made Maali even sadder, is that in Lebanon, her identity soon was reduced to that of a refugee. “I lost everything, my home, the job that I just started as a teacher and my sense of self,” she says. “I remember our shelter was close to a school and it was painful to see children going to school every morning while I had nothing to offer, nothing to contribute to. I was just sitting there, in the dirt”.

She struggled with mental health, isolating herself as she tried to process the trauma. “It was hard to accept that I had gone from being a provider to being dependent on charity,” she says.

It was during this dark time that she first met the Danish Refugee Council (DRC). “I remember DRC teams came to our informal settlement. They held awareness sessions and asked us about our education, our past experiences, our skills. It was the first time since my arrival to Lebanon that anyone had seen me as more than just a number.”

Soon, her younger sister joined a DRC drawing course at the Social Development Center (SDC) where DRC provided services, and gradually Maali began participating in DRC activities too. At the end of 2013, she enrolled in several DRC-led courses. “Those courses helped me come out of my shell. I saw I still had value. I could still contribute.”

Her passion for working and supporting others reignited and not long after, Maali applied to become a volunteer with DRC. She started by supporting DRC staff in gathering people that would participate in awareness sessions and later began leading her own workshops, especially around theater and storytelling. “Theater was a way to process our trauma. It gave people, especially women and people with disability a voice again.”

Through this experience, Maali found her calling. She was later recruited as a Community Mobilizer, a role she has now held for several years. “I love what I do. Every day, I feel I’m making a real difference. I’m not just helping people, ’m rebuilding myself too and it feels simply the right thing to do.”

Today, Maali is a well-known and respected figure in Wadi Khaled. She leads information sessions, supports newly arrived refugees that fled Syria in the aftermath of the fall of the Assad-led government, and provides guidance on how to access services. She encourages women to seek mental health support, to participate in their communities, and to volunteer with NGOs just as she once did. “No one should go through this alone,” she says with a smile. “We heal faster when we’re together.”

Over the years, Maali’s work has been especially impactful in promoting the inclusion of people with disabilities (PWDs). Early in the crisis, she noticed widespread discrimination. “People with disabilities were often neglected or hidden,” she says. “So, I proposed to DRC that we create recreational activities that included everyone.” With support from DRC’s livelihoods team, they organized inclusive events where all residents could participate equally.

Her creativity and motivation also led to small-scale income-generating activities for women in the settlement. “I suggested we create home-based workshops like sewing, crafts, cooking, so women could earn a little money and regain their independence, especially in an area like Wadi Khaled where women tend stay inside their houses or tents the whole time.”

Her efforts have built trust across many communities. “People now come to me with their problems, whether it’s protection concerns, documentation, or family issues. I feel I’ve become a bridge between them and the services they need, and this gives me incredible joy.

Despite the challenges of displacement, Maali holds onto her dreams. “I want a home of my own, a place with a door I can lock and feel safe. I want to build my own business, and one day… I hope to return to Syria. And why not, maybe there I could open my NGO for women and people with disability”.

For now, her heart belongs to Wadi Khaled. “This place gave me a second chance. I may have arrived here broken, but I rebuilt myself, and I now help others do the same.”