Isatta Bah wakes up from a nap in a crowded shelter on the outskirts of Beirut, cradling her one-year-old daughter, Blessing.
The 24-year-old from Sierra Leone spends her days waiting for an exit visa that could finally take her and her child back to her home country. After enduring exploitative working conditions, sexual violence, and the chaos of war in Lebanon, she longs to reunite with her family.
“My experience in Lebanon is not good for me. I am really tired,” Bah said. “I want to go home.”
Bah is among hundreds of migrant workers in Lebanon seeking to be repatriated after a ceasefire ended the 14-month war between Hezbollah and Israel in October.
A Dream Turned Nightmare
Like many migrants, Bah arrived in Lebanon in 2022 with hopes of earning money to support her family. She was promised a supermarket job with a $200 monthly salary. Instead, she was sent to care for an elderly woman, and within a month, tragedy struck—her three-year-old son back home fell ill and passed away.
“I wasn’t given time to grieve,” she said. Bah fled her employer’s home but left behind her passport and documents.
Her struggles deepened. One day, she and five housemates were misled by a taxi driver, who left them stranded. As they sought help, four men attacked them. “We ran, but they caught three of us,” Bah said, recalling the assault.
Weeks later, she discovered she was pregnant. Despite the trauma, she resumed work at hotels to survive. Without documentation, going to the police felt impossible.
War and Displacement
The war further destabilized Bah’s precarious life. When Israeli bombardments intensified in Beirut’s southern suburbs, she fled on foot with her baby. Many migrant workers were caught in the crossfire; at least 37 were killed and 150 injured, according to the U.N.’s International Organization for Migration (IOM).
Displaced migrants faced systemic neglect, with most government shelters refusing non-Lebanese. Activist Dea Hajj Shaheen stepped in, converting an old car dealership into a makeshift shelter for over 200 Sierra Leonean women.
The space, named The Shelter, offered safety and a sense of community. Despite its modest conditions—thin mattresses under broken windows—the women cooked together, danced to Nigerian music, and even built a Christmas tree from sticks.
Struggles to Return Home
For many, returning home remains an uphill battle. Employers often confiscate passports, leaving migrants without essential documents. The IOM has processed repatriation requests from 10,000 migrants—only a fraction of Lebanon’s over 175,000-strong migrant population.
By late November, the IOM had facilitated over 400 returns, including charter flights for workers from Bangladesh and Sierra Leone.
At Beirut’s Rafic Hariri International Airport, scenes of relief unfolded as groups of Sierra Leonean women celebrated their long-awaited departure. “It wasn’t easy in Lebanon,” said Amanata Thullah, who spent four years in the country. “I am happy to be going back to my country.”
Bah, however, was not on those flights. While her baby’s documents and the father’s consent initially delayed her plans, legal aid has now cleared those hurdles.
She waits for her turn, hoping to resume her computer science studies and reunite with shelter friends back home.
“I really want to see them. I really want to go home. I am tired,” she said.