Refugees in Jerusalem

After passing through a small checkpoint, your senses are immediately assaulted by the heavy stench of burning garbage coming from the dumpsters that line the main road into the heart of the camp. The interior is a concrete jungle. It’s a tangle of cement structures suffering from neglect and poorly constructed additions to make room for the ever growing population. The streets and alleys are narrow and littered with waste, and a mess of telephone cables dangle above. The wall is visible from the edge of the camp, as is the surrounding settlement of Pisgat Ze’ev, a stark contrast to the chaos of Shu’fat.

The Shu’fat refugee camp lies just north of Jerusalem and is the only one in the West Bank inside its municipal boundaries (meaning many of its residents are blue ID holders and are not restricted by the Israeli closures in the West Bank). The camp was created in 1966 when the Jordanian Government and the UN attracted the initial inhabitants from their homes, in what is now the Jewish Quarter of the Old City, with promises of new houses and lands to cultivate. More refugees came in 1967 when Israel occupied Jerusalem and the West Bank, and the camp quickly became overpopulated. Today, the problem of overpopulation continues for many reasons: high birth rates, people can no longer afford the cost of living in East Jerusalem, or have been forced out and want to retain their Jerusalem IDs. Current population figures suggest the camp hosts around 20 to 22,000 residents, 10,290 of which are designated as refugees by the United Nations.

As in most refugee camps, there is little infrastructure and high unemployment, and with the building of the wall, many of these problems are getting worse. The influx of people from different places means that Shu’fat is increasingly a place of anonymous urban life with a lack of authority; all of which is evident upon visiting the camp.

Then there are the children. Everywhere you go in Shu’fat you see children: boys kicking beat-up soccer balls off old buildings, girls chatting on the steps outside their home, and brothers and sisters returning from the corner store with treats in hand. Everywhere, groups of children. Some of them greet us with smiles and say “shalom, or hello” while others look at us with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. What is evident upon a trip through the camp is not just that a large portion of the population consists of children (almost half we are told), but that they have no place for recreation. The creation of the wall has cut off expansion of the camp leaving little space for these kids to run and play.

Fortunately, the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) is very active in the camp and there are quite a few international NGOs who sponsor activities and programs as well. One of the highlights is the community center where children come for after school activities including arts and crafts, English lessons, and other recreational activities. The center has a very dedicated staff of volunteers led by Dr. Salim (pictured below in the middle), a family practitioner who splits his time between his clinic in Jerusalem and work at the center. It is through places like the community center where you see the hope in the otherwise dire story of Shu’fat. It is a place where the chaos of the streets is confronted by the community building and fellowship of the many programs offered by Dr. Salim and his team of volunteers. Most importantly, the children are not idle, and left to their own devices. They are taking part in something that will help shape their futures in a positive way. Unfortunately, however, these children are a few hundred out of thousands living in the camp. So more needs to be done, and, hopefully, as more and more people here about the positive stories like this, the more and more positive changes will take place.