By Zohra Bensemra, Raghed Waked and Maya Gebeily
TEBNIN, Lebanon, Nov 5 (Reuters) — In the war-ravaged reaches of southern Lebanon, mere hundreds of metres from Israeli-occupied territory, 13-year-old Inaya Sultan strives for a semblance of normalcy.
She crafts beaded bracelets for her four-year-old half-sister Malak, dreams of becoming a doctor, and shares moments with the girls she affectionately calls her “besties” at the orphanage in the southern town of Tebnin.
Established in 1978 during Israel’s previous occupation of southern Lebanon, the orphanage shelters girls who have lost one or both parents, or whose families cannot afford to care for them.
‘I Don’t Cry in Front of My Sister’
Their father, a paramedic, was killed in an Israeli strike on their hometown in March, less than two weeks after the outbreak of war between Israel and Hezbollah, which coincided with U.S.-Israeli strikes on Iran.
Both now reside at the Tebnin orphanage, where roughly 40 other girls seek to carve out an oasis of warmth and normalcy near the so-called “Yellow Line” that marks Israel’s occupation zone in southern Lebanon.
During the day, the girls attend school in Tebnin, with uniforms, backpacks, and meals supplied by the orphanage.
At night, Inaya tucks Malak into bed. “Sometimes when there’s a strike, she’ll hug me and say, ‘Look, they hit baba,'” Inaya recounted, using the Arabic word for father.
“When I feel like crying, I let a few tears fall, but never in front of my sister,” she said. “Otherwise Malak would start crying too, asking for baba and wanting to know why I’m upset. So I stay quiet for her sake.”
Inaya says Malak aspires to become a firefighter or paramedic, following in their father’s footsteps.
‘In Every Corner I Have a Memory’
Since March, Israeli strikes have killed more than 4,000 people in Lebanon, including over 700 paramedics, children, and women, according to Lebanon’s Health Ministry. The figures do not differentiate between civilians and combatants.
Israel says it established a self-declared “security zone” in southern Lebanon to shield its citizens from cross-border militant attacks. The Israeli military maintains it does not intentionally target civilian infrastructure, while accusing Hezbollah of embedding military assets in civilian areas — a charge Hezbollah denies.
Although a June ceasefire has reduced hostilities, Israeli forces continue to occupy large swathes of the south, where they have levelled dozens of towns. The campaign has damaged bridges, hospitals, schools, and other public infrastructure.
The orphanage itself bears the scars of war; it was damaged by an Israeli strike on a neighbouring building during the 2024 Israel-Hezbollah conflict.
The girls had been evacuated to safety. Since then, the orphanage has cobbled together enough funding to repair only a single floor, converting common areas into bedrooms because the upper floor was too severely damaged.
The basement, once a theatre where the girls performed in a choir and hosted guests, also lies in ruins.
“It really made me sad, because every room, every corner holds a memory,” said 19-year-old Shereen Saad, who has spent most of her life at the orphanage.
Saad is studying interior design at a local university and hopes to pursue a graduate degree in Italy — plans that could easily be derailed by renewed conflict.
“I don’t want to make too many promises to myself, because things might not turn out the way I hope.”
‘Life Needs to Continue’
Fatima Jaffal, the orphanage’s 30-year-old head caretaker, told Reuters the girls were evacuated again during the latest war. They returned to find Israeli troops stationed less than a kilometre away, their days punctuated by the booms of air strikes and home demolitions.
Months later, much of that had begun to feel routine, she said.
“We can’t put our lives on hold waiting to see how things turn out,” Jaffal said. “Life must go on, and we are stronger than this.”
Her hometown of Rshaf lies inside Israel’s occupation zone, and the orphanage is as much her home as it is the girls’.
“What challenges would they face if they weren’t here? This place is vital. It protects the girls, secures their future and their social lives,” she said.
Ali Saad, the orphanage’s director, said the institution itself is struggling.
Lebanon’s 2019 financial collapse has dried up state funding, and regular donations from United Nations peacekeepers in southern Lebanon will cease when their mandate expires later this year.
The threat of renewed fighting also looms large.
“We want to repair the orphanage, but if we do, will it just be damaged again? Is the war truly over?”
