Help 200,000+ people fleeing violence in Libya

SIRTE, Libya -- Ali points to a housing block that looks like a slab of Swiss cheese – full of holes from artillery fire – and says he feels lucky that he can at least stay in his own damaged apartment nearby. "The flat above mine was hit by a tank shell," he told UNHCR, adding that two of his rooms had been affected and he'd need to spend 5,000 to 6,000 Libyan dinars ($4,000 to $4,800) to repair the damage.

Ali, 33, an administrator at Sirte University, is also happy to simply be alive. "A friend just died in front of me on that corner. A bomb exploded next to him," he said, recalling the assault on Sirte last September and October that forced tens of thousands of people to flee the the town of Sirte, birthplace of Muammar Gaddafi.

As of April 2012, almost 60,000, or more than 70% have returned since the Libyan leader's killing here on October 20. "It began as a fairly gradual return and it speeded up," said aid worker Wouter Takkenberg. "In many ways, Sirte has returned to almost normal." Amid battle-scarred buildings, the streets are full of cars and people, shops and restaurants do a brisk trade, and rebuilding has begun. Electricity and water supplies are working again in most areas.

But the needs of returnees and those displaced within the coastal city are still great and this is keeping organizations like UNHCR and its partners busy. Many of the returnees found their homes destroyed or, like Ali, damaged and in need of repair.

Some 20,000 residents remain displaced, unable to return to their homes in a city that probably suffered more material damage than any other in Libya. Almost 75,000 people remain internally displaced within Libya, mostly from Misrata and Sirte as well as the town of Tawergha and the Nafousa Mountains.

Takkenberg, who spent several months in Sirte for UNHCR implementing partner, ACTED, said that in Sirte, "You have a large number of people staying with host families." He said they needed food and non-food items, "especially as the prices in Sirte have risen."

And there are also dangers, including unexploded ordnance and lingering insecurity. Aside from distributing food and aid to tens of thousands, ACTED has helped assess the condition of hundreds of buildings, while the Mines Advisory Group gives risk education to students in newly reopened schools.

"There is a huge amount of unexploded ordnance throughout the city. It's a major problem," said Takkenberg, adding that this was affecting livelihood programs and schools. UNHCR, meanwhile, regularly monitors protection needs and has provided assistance to IDPs in Sirte and elsewhere in Libya.

Ali, who spent three weeks residing in a basement before fleeing to the town of Zlitan in October to escape the shelling, said his main concerns were about security and money. He continues working, but receives irregular payments. "It's only the salaries issue, otherwise I could survive," he explained.

Many others cited finances as a major concern, especially when they first got back to Sirte and found the banking system in tatters. "There was no liquidity in the city . . . at that point there was major need among the entire population," said Takkenberg, adding that the situation was improving and "the economy is coming alive again."

Thirty-five-year-old Mohamed, a state employee like so many Libyans, was also worried about security and money. He said he had received some back pay from the interim authorities, but was unable to work as normal. "Only teachers and doctors are working full time," he said.

Mohamed hurried his wife and two children into their car during a NATO air strike in September and drove away from their apartment block in Sirte's heavily damaged Zone Two. They found shelter with relatives in a village to the east of the city.

When they returned in November, Mohamed found "there were a lot of my belongings missing," including a computer and the television. But there was a bonus. "I was really worried because I was thinking all of Sirte had been destroyed. But, thank god, I found my flat in a good condition."

Al-Sharef, 55, a member of the extended Gaddafi clan, was not so lucky. His rented home on the edge of Zone 2 was badly damaged, so he is now living with his family in a suburb of Sirte.

He, his wife and children live in one of a cluster of several wooden bungalows rented by displaced families. Despite the tribal connection, they are clearly a poor, though hospitable family. Al-Sharef earns 250 dinars a month as a watchman on an adjacent construction site, but payment is patchy and the rent is 170 dinars. He also has to pay for water that is trucked in, but he connected a line to the electricity mains.

Then there is the cost of transport for his five children who are at school – 100 dinars a month in all. "We need help for everything, starting with money and housing and accommodation," Al-Sharef told UNHCR. From time to time, NGOs bring food, he said, adding that the family received free medical care.

ACTED, working with the World Food Program, the Libyan Red Crescent and local relief committees, has been distributing food to 10,800 families.

UNHCR has provided relief items to IDPs throughout the country. In 2011, the agency distributed non-food items to more than 140,000 people and assessed shelter damage in 9,941 homes. In collaboration with its partners, UNHCR coordinated assistance to IDP sites throughout the country and helps identify protection gaps. In consultation with UNICEF and LibAid, UNHCR is working on a survey on IDP access to education.

Meanwhile, none of the people questioned by UNHCR complained about retribution. "From my side, it's the same as before," Al-Sharef said, adding: "Most of my relatives came back without any problems." The whole populations of other pro-Gaddafi towns to the north have been displaced.

"I believe in the future, that it's going to be better – and I'm patient," Al-Sharef stressed. Across town, Ali said his goodbyes and headed down towards the beach. "I'm going off to fish – to make money and to eat. I do it two or three times a week, depending on my university duties," he revealed.

Mohammed wants to become a roving art teacher for refugees around the world. "I would like to travel with UNHCR or any other organization," he says.

For now, the 55-year-old Iraqi is content to pass on his knowledge to other refugees in a desert camp near Tunisia's main border crossing with Libya, where he worked for almost 15 years. "They have a lot of time, so I try to give them something useful to do," he explains. Their new skills could prove valuable in the future.

It's a welcome respite for teacher and students alike from the hours and days of waiting for news about resettlement. Mohammed's four adult children have been accepted by the United States, but he and his wife have heard nothing yet and are understandably concerned. Most of the people in Choucha are likely to be resettled, but not all. Moreover, the process can take months.

UNHCR considers resettlement to be the only viable option for the majority of recognized refugees who fled Libya to Tunisia. Some 1,800 refugees have been accepted for resettlement by 15 different countries and more than 700 of them have left here to start a new life.

At least twice a week, Mohammed makes his way from his rented home in nearby Ben Guerdane to Choucha, where he spends the day teaching around 50 people free of charge in the camp of more than 3,000. He specializes in painting and drawing, but also teaches basic sculpture and handicrafts.

He holds special classes on perspective for young men whose engineering studies were interrupted and for whom draftsmanship and drawing is important. This experience could be crucial in helping them to apply for college courses or to find work in their new homes.

Mohammed holds court in a community center run by UNHCR's implementing partner in the camp, the Danish Refugee Council. "One day I teach men, another day women," he says, adding that the ladies are particularly keen on making handicrafts and often hold exhibitions in the center. His students come from Eritrea, Somalia and Sudan, with an occasional Iraqi.

Mohammed, whose own art career has been put on hold until he can have a cataract operation, did not know what to expect when he started volunteering his skills. "I was surprised by how many turned up," he says. "They start simple and they get better . . . I teach them what they need."

The Danish Refugee Council provides Mohammed with all the materials he needs, including plain and colored paper, leather, brushes, oils, water and poster colors, string, glue, silk, knitting needles and wool. The latter are used by an Eritrean refugee, who teaches knitwear and says: "I learned in Libya."

UNHCR and the Danish Refugee Council are looking at ways to help the students earn something from their enterprise and keep them motivated.

Mohammed displayed some of the work produced in this desert studio, including paintings and drawings as well as photo frames, bracelets, cloth handbags, woollen beanies, place mats, paper flowers and much more.

Coming to Choucha is clearly therapeutic for Mohammed, who learned his craft from some of his country's greatest modern artists, including Hafidh al-Duroubi and Faik Hassan, acclaimed for his paintings of horses.

"I was an art teacher for 30 years in Iraq and Libya at schools and universities, including Misrata, where I founded the department of plastic arts," says Mohammed, who was born in the southern Iraqi city of Basra. He came to Libya in 1997 to work at a teacher's institute in Tripoli.

The family became settled, with Mohammed also painting and exhibiting his own work. But in recent years he became concerned about pay and contracts. When the uprising against the Muammar Gaddafi regime began in February last year, he was lecturing at Zawiya University to the west of Tripoli.

The family debated what they should do, including the possibility of returning to Iraq. Mohammed worried about continuing insecurity in his home country and was mindful of a deadly campaign by Islamic radicals against artists, which was at its height from 2003-2007.

"I went back in 2008 and found that a lot of my friends had been killed, so I felt threatened," he said, noting that the family had been given refugee status in Libya in 2007 because of his fears about the danger to artists in Iraq.

They decided to seek safety in Tunisia, entering the country last May at the Ras Ajdir crossing. The family first stayed in a Red Crescent camp before moving to Choucha in September. "We left to Ben Guerdane in October. It was very difficult to live in the camp," he said. "If you have money you can move out. And being Iraqi helped."

It's still tough in Tunisia. They pay 150 Tunisian dinars ($100) a month for an apartment for six. "We have a hard life and a small budget," he said, while adding that locals help with food from time to time.

He sees no future in Tunisia because it is difficult to work there, while he says he will never go back to Libya "because the crisis continues. The Libya crisis will never end." That leaves resettlement as his main hope, but the wait is stressful. "I worry because I want to stay with my family. I'm still worried."

The weekly visits to Choucha help buy his spirits. And Mohammed is happy to have been given the chance, in the most unexpected of places, to resume his profession. Above all, he's grateful to his students. "I thank them, because they have given me hope again of teaching and learning art," he said.

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