Former detainees get used to life after release from Khiam
Lara Sukhtian finds that help has been slow in coming for those still getting used to freedom

As he lounged around in his living room, 18-year-old Samer Hijazi was unaware of the events that were about to take place, events that would change his life forever.
A high-school student preparing for his upcoming graduation, he never made it to the ceremony. On that fateful afternoon in March 1994, South Lebanon Army militiamen knocked on Hijazi’s door and asked if they could talk to him for “a few minutes.”
“They didn’t just want to talk,” he said, “they wanted to take me away.” Which they did, and those few minutes stretched into six-and-a-half years.
That same afternoon, the SLA arrested Hijazi’s first cousin, Ziad Ghanawi, also 18. In separate cells, surrounded by cold gray walls, they lived the most important developmental years of their lives in an “Israeli”-controlled prison as their hopes for the future dwindled.
Today, the Byblos Training Center is working to give back part of that hope to Hijazi and Ghanawi, and other former detainees, by providing them with an opportunity to get a free education and ease the transition process from detainee to citizen.
“It’s our duty to provide ex-detainees with the education and training they were denied,” said Khalil Haidar, the director of the Training Center in Haret Hreik where Hijazi and Ghanawi will study.
According to Haidar, working to build and improve Lebanese society is an age-old tradition at Byblos. Since 1982, the center has taken in 273 students, free of charge, most of them detainees, resistance fighters, or children of fallen guerrillas.
“Over the years, these men and women have sacrificed their lives for freedom,” said Haidar. “Now we must support them in their efforts to integrate back into society.”
According to Ibrahim Kallash, vice-president of the National Association for Lebanese Detainees in “Israeli” Prisons, about 8,000 Lebanese men and women have been detained in “Israeli” prisons since 1985.
Today 19 Lebanese citizens remain in “Israeli” prisons. But as Kallash made clear, “indeed there are 19 prisoners in “Israel”, but there are about 65 Lebanese that have been kidnapped by “Israeli” forces over the years, never to be heard of again.”
The real tragedy, said Hijazi, was that most of the detainees hadn’t participated in the struggle. He explained how SLA leader Antoine Lahd and “Israeli” soldiers didn’t need a good reason to arrest people. Simply knowing the wrong people was reason enough to be arrested.
This seemed to be the case with Hijazi and Ghanawi; their crime was being acquainted with members of Amal and Hizbullah, something quite common for most residents of the southern village of Houla.
“There was only one rule of thumb practiced by Lahd and “Israel”,” said Hijazi, “If you’re not with us then you’re against us and thus you’re a threat.”
This unwritten policy lead to the random arrest of hundreds, even thousands of Lebanese over a 15-year period. All were held without trial; most were held without good reason.
With the withdrawal of “Israeli” troops from the South in May, Ghanawi, Hijazi, and hundreds of detainees were released. “We made it. We survived,” said Hijazi. “We were finally free.”
Indeed they were, but there was a question looming over their heads ­ what comes next?
While in prison, Hijazi and his cousin thought about little else but staying alive. “We didn’t exactly give the future much thought,” said Ghanawi.
A few months after their release, having received free medical care and counseling from government-funded agencies, Ghanawi and Hijazi were ready to move on.
Because they were imprisoned at such a young age, they lacked the education and skills necessary to be admitted into the workforce. With an already-struggling Lebanese economy, the path to finding a secure well-paid job seemed grim. But according to Hijazi, “now that Byblos has opened its doors to us, we have a chance.”
Byblos offers an extensive course load ­ from languages and marketing to electro-mechanics and child education. With a wide range of fields and a flexible schedule, Byblos is confident that ex-detainees are sure to find at least one field of interest.
Starting on Oct. 30, Hijazi and Ghanawi will be taking courses in computer language, maintenance and repairs. Hijazi has registered for English-language classes as well.
Although Haidar has informed the Follow-up Committee for Lebanese Detainees about the opportunity for free training at any of the three Byblos Training Centers ­ located in Furn al-Shubbak, Haret Hreik, and Dora ­ Hijazi and Ghanawi were the only two to register for classes.
Haidar is confident that once their offer is better publicized, more detainees will register.
According to Ayyoub Hitti, the general director of Byblos Training Centers, there will be significant efforts, with the help of the media and non-governmental organizations, to inform detainees of the opportunities available to them.
Organizations like the Follow-up Committee and the National Association for Lebanese Detainees are among the NGOs working to spread the news.
The government also has promised support and assistance to ex-detainees. But Hijazi claims that although the government promised them free healthcare, employment, and training, it has not exactly kept its word.
“I’m thankful for the free healthcare I receive from the state, but there’s so much red tape that sometimes I feel it’s not worth it,” said Hijazi.
Frustrated, Hijazi explained how “the amount of paperwork, useless errands, and waiting around in line each and every time I need to see the doctor is ridiculous.”
Hijazi also made it clear that he feels the government has not lived up to expectations with regard to assisting detainees in their search for employment. Both he and Ghanawi understand that the country’s current limited resources and that the difficult economic situation in Lebanon can hinder any efforts in acting upon the promises made. But still, they argue that the government can and should be doing more.
“They’re mostly empty promises,” said Hijazi. “Ask me. I know from experience.”