Mireille Girard

Ghassan and his family arrived in May 2011, soon after Syria started making headlines. Like many Syrian refugees at the time, they trickled from southern Homs right across the border into Wadi Khaled and were initially sheltered by Lebanese friends and acquaintances, believing they would return to their homes in a matter of months.

But the conflict in Syria grew in intensity, and that initial trickle turned into one of the largest refugee populations in the world relative to the size of Lebanon. Nearly six years have gone by, and the journey back across the border is still out of reach. Ghassan and his family are among the hundreds of thousands of Syrian refugees dreading what will be their sixth winter away from home.

As early as the beginning of November, the weather shifts in Lebanon’s high-altitude areas, where more than half of the refugees in the country are scattered. Relentless rain and finger-numbing winds turn into snow and sub-zero temperatures jeopardizing already frail shelters that often come in the form of unfinished buildings, garages, warehouses and makeshift tents. Even for the many vulnerable Lebanese communities living in those areas, staying warm and dry during the harsh winter months is a challenge. People tend to gather in a single room, typically the kitchen, because heating an entire house is not something many can afford.

When I asked Ghassan and his family about their biggest worry this winter, they gave me the same response: the snow. They recalled being awaken a couple of winters ago by the sound of their tent suddenly collapsing under the weight of the thick layer of snow carpeting its roof.

Both refugees and vulnerable Lebanese communities are struggling to cope with the challenges presented by the crisis, but heavy snowfall and temperatures hovering around zero degrees have added to their vulnerability.

More than half of the refugees in Lebanon live in extreme poverty. And according to the most recent estimates by the Central Administration for Statistics and the World Bank, nearly 1 million Lebanese are having to survive on less than $3 a day. Anyone who has lived in Lebanon knows that this threshold is way too low for a dignified living. But having to survive in poverty is one thing, and choosing between equally compelling needs such as putting food on the table and staying warm and dry during a brutal storm is another.

UNHCR’s focus is to provide enough winter assistance to spare refugees and Lebanese families from having to make these inhumane choices. Refugees’ vulnerabilities have been continuously assessed to ensure that those most in need are prioritized, because humanitarian assistance is never sufficient to cover everyone’s needs. Underprivileged Lebanese families are not forgotten either and specific winter items such as stoves have been distributed to those enrolled in the National Poverty Targeting Program. We also made available emergency stocks to local authorities in case of storms.

The situation could have been much worse for Syrian refugees and vulnerable Lebanese communities. The humanitarian community has worked tirelessly with the Lebanese government and donor countries to provide some breathing space for those who – for reasons outside of their control – have borne the brunt of the brutal war that has been ravaging Syria. As a result of the work being done, the slide of Syrian refugees deeper into poverty, though still a concern, has not been as sharp this year as in the past, and the advent of winter not as dreadful.

Back in his hometown of Qusair in Syria, Ghassan owned a house and a farm. He made a decent living. But like many refugees in Lebanon, Ghassan’s house was razed to the ground, and his livestock perished. As time went by, neighbors and friends on whom Ghassan relied could no longer support him because they too were struggling. He slowly exhausted what little assets he had managed to bring along.

Ghassan’s story is not an exception. He tells me he is drowning in debt, owing 3 million Lebanese pounds ($2,000) to shop owners, Lebanese neighbors, and his landlord. He used to work in construction, but has developed kidney stones and is barely able to move. He pays $100 per month for a small tent. His 21-year-old son works odd jobs such as loading trucks to help support the family, but it is very difficult for him to find work, he says, especially during the winter season when work related to agriculture and construction slows down drastically.

Despite our best efforts, Syrian refugees like Ghassan are still caught in a debt trap. They remain highly vulnerable to external shocks and reliant on humanitarian assistance to survive.

So far in 2016, close to $1 billion has been contributed to the country under the joint government-U.N. led Lebanon Crisis Response Plan thanks to the unfaltering support of the entire donor community. This has helped prevent more refugees from falling below the poverty line, and support Lebanon’s infrastructure and its institutions endure the difficult times the country is going through.

Families are having to adapt to surviving on the bare minimum. A recent U.N. survey found that 34 percent of refugee households are food insecure. That means nearly 70,000 refugee families are consistently anxious about their next meal. I worry about those trends.

Meanwhile, in Aleppo and other parts of Syria, “atrocities have been allowed to become commonplace,” the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi said. How far will this go? The international community should unanimously urge for peace and security in Syria, to address the root causes of this massive displacement.

UNHCR will keep pressing this message. No civilian population should be put through what people are enduring in Syria. The harrowing situation in Aleppo is yet another reminder of our shared obligation to bring this conflict to an end. In the meantime, countries suffering the consequences of the Syrian conflict on their economy or through mass displacement should hold on, amid perceptions of overflow, and be able to count on steady international support to adapt to the situation.

Without solidarity and sustainable funding, vital humanitarian programs would not survive and much-needed support to public services would not come about. We need to stick together during this difficult time. In our conversation, Ghassan and his family insisted that once there is peace and safety, they will not hesitate about going back home, even if it means having to rebuild their lives from the ground up. Let us strive to make sure they do not lose hope in the future and are able to keep their dignity during the harsh winters away from home.