Amara had heard much about the challenges of working in Lebanon even before she left her village in Ethiopia to be employed as a domestic worker, in the hope of building a better future for herself and her family. “But I never imagined I would find myself on the streets, without any official papers, in a country torn apart by war, bombing, and death,” she says.

Amara’s story echoes the experiences of countless other domestic workers from African and Southeast Asian countries. Estimates suggest that hundreds of these women now find themselves homeless and without support, after their employers’ homes were destroyed or after the families they worked for fled to seemingly safer areas.

Amara said that an Israeli evacuation warning was issued two weeks ago, ordering residents to leave the village where she worked in southern Lebanon. Her employer’s family packed what they could into two cars and took Amara with them. After a couple of hours on the road, they dropped her off at Dora roundabout in Beirut with a small bag of clothes and continued their journey north. “It was as if they were leaving behind an old chair,” she commented.

In recent weeks, large groups of migrant workers have been seen sleeping on sidewalks in the city centre, near Ain El Mreisseh, and in other places. The Jesuit Fathers’ Monastery in Monot, Ashrafieh, opened its doors to some of these workers, offering them a place to sleep and basic necessities. Meanwhile, most government shelters and private initiatives are only welcoming Lebanese citizens.

Many of these women recount the fates of their friends, some of whom disappeared after Israeli airstrikes on residential areas. One worker was even killed by an airstrike without anyone to bury her, identify her body, or notify her embassy.

When asked what they need, the workers provide a variety of answers: shelter, food, medicine, money… But one older woman’s response captures the essence of their plight: “We need what every displaced Lebanese person needs,” she said simply, adding in colloquial Lebanese Arabic: “We’re no different from them.”

In a brief testimony, a local activist, who has been trying to assist these women, expressed disbelief at the actions of some employers who abandoned their workers on the streets without passports, adequate language skills to communicate, or any money to survive. She also criticized shelters that refuse to admit non-Lebanese people, summarizing the situation as follows: “If these employers and shelter managers saw domestic workers as human beings equal to themselves in dignity and rights, they wouldn’t have acted this way. We wouldn’t be facing this tragedy today.”

Beyond the urgent humanitarian needs of these women, caught between their employers’ irresponsibility, the dysfunctional Lebanese state, and their embassies’ neglect, the situation brings to mind an initiative implemented four years ago which targeted dozens of domestic workers. During Lebanon’s financial collapse at the time, hundreds of those workers became homeless after being dismissed by families or abandoned on the streets or near their embassies, which were unable or unwilling to help.

Back then, an initiative was launched in coordination with the relevant consuls, Lebanon’s General Security, and a group of domestic workers to provide shelter and essential services until the women could return to their home countries. The initiative worked to secure travel documents, in cooperation with the General Security, for women who had their passports or those whose passports were withheld by employers and booked flights for them. Thanks to this effort, dozens of women were rescued from a grim fate in which they found themselves through no fault of their own, giving them the thing they needed the most: the chance to heal in their home countries rather than remain stranded in Lebanon with no hope and no support, vulnerable to endless exploitation.

Helping those women return home is perhaps the best solution – and many of them agree – instead of depleting the already scarce resources to provide them with shelter, food, and other basic necessities. However, the current situation in Lebanon makes it very difficult to offer such help. Resources are scarce, transportation is difficult, and coordination with embassies, consulates, and General Security or even finding plane tickets are likely far more challenging compared to four years ago, despite the financial collapse back then.

Without serious, sustainable solutions, solidarity among the workers and support from sympathetic individuals provide temporary relief. Some women share whatever limited housing and resources they can find, but the need for adequate shelters equipped with essential services remains critical. More serious and sustainable efforts are needed, such as coordinating with the relevant stakeholders to cover travel costs and facilitate the workers’ return to their home countries, possibly through a dedicated fundraising campaign.

The ongoing war has affected everyone living in Lebanon but to varying degrees. Migrant domestic workers are among the most vulnerable groups. Their plight underscores the urgent need to abolish the kafala (sponsorship) system and the legal relationship between workers, recruitment agencies, and employers to guarantee workers’ basic rights and prevent them from becoming victims of chaos and neglect. Until that day comes, supporting the few organizations and initiatives working with these women is essential to preserve their dignity and meet their basic needs.