Lebanon's south takes a breath as families return to shattered homes and lives
Reuters, Lebanon
Published: 07 Jul 2026, 09:40 PM
People who returned home following displacement during the war, after the Israel-Lebanon deal, relax on the rocks along Tyre's seafront promenade, in Tyre, southern Lebanon, 5 July 2026. Photo: REUTERS
On a beachfront in the coastal city of Tyre, war has finally
abated just enough for children to play in the waves and families to gather
under parasols as life slowly returns to southern Lebanon.
But away from the shore, people coming home after months of
exile are having to adapt to harsh new realities: the threat of conflict
between Israel and Iran-backed Hezbollah flaring up again and the challenge of
rebuilding from the destruction Israeli bombs have wreaked on their hometowns.
"People are coming back to Tyre to rebuild, to work —
all the restaurants are open again," said local resident Ali Skaiky, wet
from a swim in the sea and holding a rubber lilo.
"We still hear strikes and fighting at night, but it's
far away. There's destruction beyond imagination, but we hope everything will
stay calm."
Skaiky is among some 400,000 people who have returned to
southern Lebanon in the weeks since a ceasefire between Israel and Hezbollah.
The truce has not halted fighting, but it has lowered the intensity.
Returnees are cleaning debris from damaged homes, reopening
businesses and trying to rebuild the routines the war shattered. Yet for many,
normality now means keeping a suitcase packed, following the news obsessively
and never straying too far from home.
For Fadlallah Qassim, 42, returning home meant confronting
the destruction the war had left behind, including a hit on his house.
"We returned to find the whole house caved in with
rubble, and all the furniture ruined," he said. "I cleaned up, fixed
it, and brought some basic things for the house, now my wife, children and I
all live in one room."
In the nearby village of Srifa, where entire neighbourhoods
were damaged, Suzan Fakih, 55, said the hardest part of returning was realising
home no longer felt like home.
"The moment you arrive, it doesn't feel like your
village anymore," she said. "Everything is black and grey. It hurts
your soul. You look around and think, 'This can't be the village I've lived in
all my life.'"
'You pack your bags and run'
Srifa lies in the deep south of Lebanon, close to where
Israeli troops occupy a strip of territory and launch regular attacks on what
the Israeli army says are Hezbollah targets. In areas nearby, Israel has
demolished almost entire villages.
Fakih said people remain haunted by the possibility they
could be forced to flee again.
"I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't
living with a bag packed, ready to leave. A few quiet years pass, then you pack
your bags and run again," she said.
The ongoing hostilities and levels of destruction have left
600,000 more people internally displaced, according to Lebanon's social affairs
ministry. Many families whose homes were destroyed are still living in schools
or in the rented homes they fled to during the conflict.
Lebanon has suffered the deadliest spillover of the regional
war triggered by the US-Israeli strikes on Iran in February.
The conflict spread to Lebanon on 2 March, when Hezbollah
fired on Israel in support of Tehran, triggering an Israeli air and ground
campaign. More than 4,300 people have been killed in Lebanon, according to the
country's health ministry.
Renting backup homes
Some 20 miles (32 km) farther north, Mohammad Sweid and
other residents who recently returned to the Bekaa Valley town of Sohmor, said
they live with the same uncertainty.
Sweid still pays rent for the house he and his family fled
to during the war, keeping it as a backup home if they need to leave again.
"If something happens again, we may not find another
place," the 31-year-old manual worker said.
In the Lebanese capital Beirut, whose Hezbollah-controlled
suburb of Dahiyeh has been battered by Israel at intervals over the last two
years for being home to Hezbollah's leadership, residents are also cautiously
trying to rebuild their lives.
Moussa Ghamloush, 68, has been repairing his bomb-damaged
home and reopening his restaurant, which was completely destroyed in a separate
strike, but says his permanent home will always be Dahieh.
"We're not the kind of people who leave. Our roots are
here. We stayed, and if there's a third war, we'll stay again."