Episode 2 The Refugee Camp: Our Desert Home

Today, I've been invited to witness something very special.

She's OK.

GROANING

Oh, amazing!

Yes, well done!

Oh, my goodness me.

This little baby is the newest person to be born in Zaatari,

which is a camp in Jordan for Syrian refugees fleeing the war,

and in just four years,

it's ballooned to a population of 80,000 people, plus this one.

SHE LAUGHS

Gosh, it just goes to show

that even in the most difficult circumstances - I'm shaking -

people don't just get on with life - life can thrive.

Bushra, you're incredible. Congratulations.

And as a new generation is born here,

Zaatari itself is developing at a remarkable speed.

Four years ago, all this was dusty desert.

Today, it's a city the size of Bath,

with 24,000 homes and 3,000 businesses

across 5.2 square kilometres.

But with no signs the crisis in Syria is coming to an end,

Zaatari must continue to evolve for the sake of its residents.

This time, we'll be looking towards the future and life beyond camp.

WHISTLE BLOWS

Hostile environment expert Ben Timberlake

will be finding out how Zaatari's young people are being given support

as they face an uncertain future.

A&E doctor Javid Abdelmoneim will be with the families desperate to leave

to start a new life abroad.

And I'll be meeting the newest residents who'll grow up

in a refugee camp far from home.

The Syrian war has led to the biggest humanitarian crisis

of our time.

Together, we're going to discover how these refugees

are transforming this place

to become a city that's ready for the future.

Welcome to Zaatari.

When people first arrived in this refugee camp,

they thought they'd be back home in Syria within months.

This was supposed to be a temporary shelter,

but it's fast becoming a permanent home

for the refugees as war in Syria rages on.

Zaatari camp is in the north of Jordan,

just a few miles from the Syrian border.

Opened in July 2012 on land donated by the Jordanian military,

the camp initially took nine days to build

and is now run and paid for by the UN's refugee agency

and the Jordanian government,

along with over 30 different charities.

What started as a handful of tents in the desert

is now a metropolis,

complete with nine schools, 11 hospitals and clinics,

two supermarkets,

as well as playgrounds and sports centres,

all at a cost of around £10 million a month.

And with over half of Zaatari's population under the age of 18,

this place has to develop so it can cope with the future demands

of this displaced population whose own country remains in crisis.

THEY CHANT

What started as anti-government protests in spring 2011

has escalated in a way that no-one could have expected

and the war has now drawn in regional and world powers.

A quarter of a million people have been killed,

half the population have been displaced

and five million have been forced to flee their homeland.

CHILDREN CHATTER

Just a fraction of those affected by this brutal war

have ended up in Zaatari.

Amongst those making a future for themselves here

are people from all walks of life.

Ben is meeting up with one of Zaatari's most famous residents,

33-year-old Mohamed Al-Krad.

CAR HORN BLARES

You don't realise what a celebrity this guy is

till you walk down Main Street with him

and everyone's coming up to shake his hand

or beep the horn and say hi.

Back home in Syria, Mohamed was a well-known wrestler.

Back home, you've got a huge collection of trophies and medals?

Ai. I'm sorry.

Mohamed may have left his medals behind in Syria...

..but he's putting his skills and experience to good use...

..as head coach of a wrestling school for boys.

A popular sport back in Syria, here in Zaatari,

it serves a more important purpose for the young people...

..potentially facing a long future here.

WHISTLE BLOWS

Coach Mohamed, I was expecting you to be, like, a wrestling coach,

but this is like being a drill instructor.

You're not just making good wrestlers,

but you're making good young men?

WHISTLE BLOWS

Bravo.

Over the two and a half years this project has been running...

..it's grown from just 13 students to hundreds.

These kids are brilliant at it.

So agile.

Ai-ai-ai-ai-ai!

This is amazing.

This is the first time I've seen a large group of children

just being happy.

It's not like the sports or wrestling makes your life

a whole lot better, but it does have the ability to reduce your life

to a level where it starts to make sense.

It's a very powerful tool for these kids.

WHISTLE BLOWS, KIDS SHOUT OUT

In two weeks' time, Coach Mohamed's students

will take part in a tournament.

It's the culmination of months of hard training

and competition for the top prize will be fierce.

WHISTLE BLOWS

13-year-old Mohammed Lokash is reigning champion

and desperate to hold on to his title.

He's been in Zaatari for two years and left Syria just before

his house was hit in an air strike.

WHISTLE BLOWS

But it looks like Mohammed will have to put in

a lot more practice if he's going to put another trophy on his shelf.

Mohammed's biggest rival in the competition is Bassam...

..who also happens to be his best fried.

The 13-year-old came to Zaatari with his family

back in the summer of 2012,

not long after it opened.

Today is just a practice session,

but when the boys go head-to-head for real in a few weeks' time,

all thoughts of friendship will be put to the side.

CHEERING

Now that the camp has been open for four years,

the 11 hospitals and clinics need to provide day-to-day medical care

for the 80,000 residents.

Dr Javid is coming to one of them in the north-west of the camp

to find out what they're dealing with.

CHILD WAILS

This kid's just had a massive chunder.

Is there...? Where's the second bucket?

She fell over in the street and cut her wrist

on a piece of metal,

which is intrinsically a dirty wound,

but it'll need stitching because of where it is.

CHILD WHIMPERS

She's being good, isn't she, though?

A child who's going to pick at it, play, get around,

be dirty, whatever,

cos of where it is,

the best healing will be stitches for this.

Across all the health care services in camp,

there are 14,000 medical consultations a week.

So a mixture of things, then, Mohammed -

injuries, but also some primary care that you're doing here.

37-year-old Mohammed worked as a nurse back in Syria

and fled to Zaatari three years ago.

So what time is your last on-call?

Well, you're tireless - I'm in awe.

This hospital is unique in camp, because unlike the others

that are run by Jordanian and international charities,

it was set up and is run exclusively by the Syrians themselves.

Dr Hussein, hello.

'I'm meeting founder and medical director Dr Hussein,

'who worked as a doctor back in his home town of Jasim in Syria.'

Surgery, internal medicine, gastric,

cardiology.

It's busy, huh?

How many patients do you see each day?

Wow, that's a huge number!

Gosh!

I struggle to imagine what it would have been like here in Zaatari

in the early days when you first arrived.

Presumably, you could be better off doing what you do

in a private system somewhere.

Well, Dr Hussein, you're a hero, to be honest,

as far as I'm concerned when I look at you doing this work here.

It's fantastic.

They could easily go elsewhere and earn a very good living,

and yet they've chosen to stay here.

I've worked a lot in the humanitarian field

and it's easy to volunteer and it's easy to go abroad

and work in this context,

but you're coming from a comfortable background

and the difference with the staff here

is that they are refugees themselves

and yet they've chosen to stay

and that's something I've not come across before

and it really makes me pause for a minute and take stock.

I think they're doing something incredible.

Before the war, Syria was a middle-income economy.

As Zaatari looks to the future,

the challenge for the refugees and the authorities

is to try to replicate the same standard of living

that people enjoyed back home.

Because if you live somewhere long enough,

you're going to want all the things you're used to -

television, washing machine, fridge freezer,

mobile phones, and they all require the same thing -

electricity.

The camp is connected up to the Jordanian national grid

and paid for by the UNHCR

at a cost of £4.8 million a year.

Initially the electricity was pumped in just to light up the main roads,

but the desert at night is pitch-black,

so then they decided to light all the streets

and once that happened, people thought,

"We'd quite like it in our own homes,"

so anyone with a bit of initiative took it upon themselves

to tap into the source so the wiring is a little bit haphazard.

Good luck to anyone trying to figure out that mess.

But where do you even begin?

But there's a team of Jordanian officials whose job involves

spotting potential health and safety dangers in camp.

It's a good street, yep.

And Ben has joined their patrol.

Some of the electricity in the camp seems very, very well organised

and, in other places, not so well organised.

It's an electricity cable with not that much insulation on it.

The water supply crosses it and this area's just right by

the water tank here, so it kind of floods out.

There's sharp stones and there's children playing around here.

It's kind of a recipe for disaster.

This is the caravan owner right here, so...

Did you put this together yourself?

I took it at school too, but I still sit there with a plug

trying to work out and think and remember exactly which is which.

With 300km of illegal electric wires throughout the camp,

trying to officially and safely connect all of these caravans

to electricity would take months and cost millions.

So instead, the team are happy with a quick fix.

Nice job, man.

This solution might not meet health and safety requirements in the UK,

but it has solved the problem.

But safety isn't the only concern

for the camp authorities running Zaatari.

With everyone drawing electricity from the grid,

it became too expensive to run it 24/7,

so in order to make Zaatari

financially sustainable into the future,

the hours of usage have been limited from 4pm to 3am.

But there are plans being drawn up for a giant solar farm

to help power the thousands of homes and businesses,

which makes perfect sense, because they've got the space and the sun.

Funded by the UNHCR, the new solar farm will be up and running by 2017

and is expected to pay for itself within two or three years.

As Zaatari matures as a city,

there's a whole generation of teenagers coming of age here.

But the vast majority of 16 to 24-year-olds aren't in school,

employment or training and face an uncertain future.

And in a conservative society like this one,

it's even harder for young women in camp to fulfil their potential.

But one person who has been able to find her voice here in Zaatari

is 18-year-old Khaldiya.

The boom's in the way!

Khaldiya escaped to Jordan three years ago

with her family and most of her village

after the area suffered heavy bombardment.

Since arriving here in Zaatari,

she's been volunteering for the camp's own magazine, The Road.

What do your parents and what do your neighbours

think about what you're doing?

Despite her progressive attitudes,

Khaldiya still fulfils her traditional responsibilities.

CHILDREN CHATTER AND GIGGLE

This is Shahed?

Pleased to meet you, Farouk.

How are you?

And who's this one?

Ahmed.

'As the eldest daughter, she dropped out of school at 16

'to look after her seven younger siblings...'

Come on, in we go.

'..so that her mother can earn some money

'on a cash-for-work scheme in camp.'

Oh, my goodness, look at this.

How can I refuse?

Thank you!

Is it hard work?

Cos you're pursuing your own goals, you want to become a journalist,

but at the same time,

you've got the responsibility of all these brothers and sisters.

Most 18-year-olds in Britain don't have to think about anyone

but themselves and here you are and you have to think

about everybody before yourself. What are your hopes?

How long do you think it will take before attitudes really change

and young girls are able to pursue their dreams?

It's amazing. What you're doing is incredible.

'Soon, Khaldiya may have an opportunity to speak out

'on the issues that matter to her.'

There's the girl.

You can see how bright her eyes are from here.

'A new magazine especially targeted at the women in the camp

'is being launched.'

'Khaldiya's on a mission to shoot the perfect photograph...'

Hair and make-up sorted.

'..in the hope it will be selected for the all-important front cover.'

-Beautiful.

-Yeah, really beautiful.

Jamila.

As this metropolis beds into the desert,

it's crucial that it has an infrastructure

that's fit for the long term.

It's all happening. Oh, it's on the move.

I'm meeting one of the refugees who earns a small wage

building something that we take for granted,

but is one of the most basic requirements in any developed city -

an underground sewage system.

-Pleased to me you. Are you Fadi?

-Welcome, welcome.

-Anita.

Are those for me?

Thank you very much. Fadi, what's happening here?

-So nine households are going to be serviced by that septic tank?

-Yes.

What were people doing before this system was installed?

So would you have dug your own?

When camp was first established, the authorities built toilets

and wash blocks that were shared by up to 200 refugees.

Why are all the people living here digging their own?

Communal toilets were provided.

So the new system is gratefully received.

It's needed, desperately needed.

So this is someone's house

and this is the cesspit that they dug themselves.

Just that?

Oh, wow. Oh, gosh.

That one's open. You can see it's very dangerous.

And, look, there's no lights here.

No streetlights, so if you're walking along at night,

you could easily fall into one of these pits.

No wonder that you're having so many accidents.

You can see that this is a public health disaster,

cos just sewage and waste water just sitting here stagnant and this is...

This is terrible. Shall we go and have a look

-at what you're fitting?

-Yes.

Are all these workers Syrian?

From Zaatari?

Lead the way, lead the way.

Yeah, can we go in? Can we get closer? Thank you.

You've got the tools, this is happening.

There's a proper system going in.

OK.

Oh, my God, the electricity pylons.

SHE GASPS

Get the wires out of the way.

Number 500.

In it goes.

'Over 2,500 of these 14-tonne tanks will be buried below ground.'

Watch out, everybody, back off if you don't want to get wet.

'And I'm making sure number 500 settles nicely into place.'

Am I doing a good job, Fadi?

Is that good? Is it done?

THEY LAUGH

Thank you, Fadi. Good luck.

-Nice to meet you.

-Lovely to meet you.

Good luck with the rest of the project.

By the time this seven-month-long

underground sewage system is completed,

thousands of new septic tanks will be connected up

to every single home in camp

using 150km of waste pipe,

bringing Zaatari's infrastructure in line

with any other established city.

How long have you been in Zaatari for?

About three years.

Ben is with 25-year-old Muflih,

who was an English literature student back in Syria.

And who are your favourite writers, then?

Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe.

Yeah, good choice, man.

It's very difficult for refugees to get permits

to work outside the camp,

but like many of the residents,

Muflih can earn a nominal wage

from one of the charities here in Zaatari.

-We will turn to the street where Mariam lives.

-We go here?

His job in camp is to assess those who need help

in building their own private toilet facilities.

First on Muflih's list today is 60-year-old Mariam.

It's a Styrofoam bed and a single gas canister

for all her heating, her cooking.

She's hardcore.

Muflih's just taking a few notes and trying to assess her case.

-It's a hole in the ground.

-Just the pipe.

It is difficult for her to use this, cos she sees rats

here in this place.

-Yeah, yeah.

-Yep.

-There's no lighting here at night.

It's dark, it's not safe.

There's no privacy and there's no dignity either.

There is zero dignity in the situation.

And yet she has this incredible smile the whole time.

SHE SPEAKS ARABIC

She said we are like her sons.

-Kasim and Ali.

-Kasim and Ali, yeah?

-Cos she missed them a lot.

-Of course.

-More than three years without seeing her sons or daughters.

-Mm-hm.

Are they safe?

Some of them in Turkey.

-They fled to Turkey.

-OK, good, good.

This is the proof of registration card of Mariam.

Muflih must now go through the charity's official checklist

to determine if Mariam will be fast-tracked

for bathroom facilities.

And by being a 60-year-old female,

-Mariam will then jump the queue?

-Yeah.

Of course, she lives alone without any sons, without any help.

-Any support whatsoever?

-Any support, yeah.

Now she meets the criteria,

hopefully Mariam won't have to wait much longer for her loo facilities.

It's a very important day for Khaldiya.

The first ever issue of the camp's women's-only magazine

has been published and it's coming out today. Big day.

And Hada, the Jordanian professional newspaper editor

who runs the magazine project, has chosen Khaldiya's photo

for the front cover of the launch publication.

And she's made another important decision

about the future of the magazine.

Khaldiya has been promoted to deputy editor

and her first task as Hada's right-hand woman

is to give her team some critical feedback.

Khaldiya was the only one

I can think to be in charge with the magazine.

She knows now how to talk with the team, how to do interviews,

how to take pictures, and she has the charisma to go

and present herself among other women, and she is doing well.

Khaldiya, look at this -

"Yasmin, World Refugees Magazine, first edition."

You're the deputy editor,

how proud do you feel holding that in your hand?

It seems to me that this is quite a radical thing to happen

in this camp, and it's a very conservative community.

Are you worried about the backlash,

that some people might think this is a negative thing to happen?

I think this is brilliant. It's your time now, Khaldiya.

Meeting Khaldiya has been an inspiration.

But what makes her unique is the fact that she doesn't have

other role models.

It's not like there are lots of Khaldiyas around her,

she is one who has stood up and put her head above the parapet

and thought, "I don't like what I'm seeing,

"I'm going to make a difference and change it."

And she is only 18 years and three months old.

-Go and change the world. Good luck. Bye-bye.

-Bye-bye.

CALL TO PRAYER

-LAUGHING:

-How you doing? Salaam.

It's six days since Ben first met 60-year-old Mariam, and he's back.

Muflih's ten-person team of Syrian workers is installing

her new bathroom today.

How long does it take to put one of these in? They're moving so quickly.

-An hour.

-Wow, OK.

-They are a fast team.

-They're incredibly quick.

Everyone has got their own job that they're doing at the same time.

It's a kind of health and safety nightmare, but it seems to work.

'And in a matter of hours this crack team have managed to plumb in

'a fully working toilet cubicle, complete with tiled floor.'

It's pretty good, yeah?

It's clear that it's much more than just a loo,

it's not merely a matter of sanitation or health,

it's all those things, but actually, to Mariam,

it's about self-respect and dignity, and also, as you can tell

from her reaction, it's the fact that someone actually gives a damn.

Take care, thank you so much.

MUFLIH SPEAKS ARABIC AND CHILD REPLIES

-I can see why you love your job so much.

-Yeah.

-She's amazing.

The camp's wrestling tournament is nine days away, but Bassam,

young Mohammed's best friend, won't be able to take part.

Bassam's father Khaled has decided to make

the risky journey back to Syria,

taking Bassam and the rest of the family with him.

Like most people in Zaatari, he still has close relatives

living back in Syria, from whom he has been long separated.

Despite Syria still being in the midst of a brutal war,

a few hundred people leave Zaatari each month

to return to their homeland.

For some, like Khaled, the pull of loved ones is too strong.

The camp authorities can't prevent them from leaving,

but do warn that a return to Jordan is practically impossible,

and by returning to Syria, they are waving goodbye to Zaatari for good.

Best friend Mohammed has come to say his goodbyes.

But going back to Syria isn't the only option

for people here in Zaatari.

31-year-old Abdul Tarek and his family are one of

the several hundred residents in Zaatari

who have been chosen by the UNHCR to apply for resettlement in Canada.

He's not guaranteed a place,

but he's been doing his research just in case.

When it comes to choosing families to go through the selection process,

UNHCR take many factors into account,

but one of the most important is medical need.

Dr Javid has come to meet Abu Tarek.

HE KNOCKS ON DOOR

Abu Tarek. Salaam alaikum. Javid.

So you were called by the camp authorities,

why do you think you were chosen?

You're walking quite well now, was it a really long recovery?

Do you have any nerves about the process itself, Abu Tarek?

Abu Tarek has options but no control over those options.

He doesn't really have a choice about what's going to happen

to him and his family.

And those options are not small things, they're enormous.

Either he stays here, or he ends up in a country

where he's never been, with his whole family,

doesn't even speak the language.

CHILD MOANS

I certainly don't envy his position. Big respect for him.

Like Abu Tarek,

all refugees are at the mercy of the international community's response.

-Canada.

-Canada?

In September 2015,

many attitudes changed when images of drowned toddler Alan Kurdi,

washed up on a Mediterranean beach, hit the headlines.

THEY CHEER

The world was shocked into action.

And many countries made pledges to open their doors to more refugees.

But for the five million Syrians fleeing the war,

only 180,000 places have been made available.

And the application process is slow.

So far, Germany leads the way, with over 40,000 official resettlements.

Canada is next with 26,000,

whilst the UK has processed 1,000 of its 20,000 pledges.

THEY CHANT:

At a time when re-homing refugees is a political minefield,

it's Syria's neighbours who are hosting the bulk

of this displaced population,

with two-thirds of a million in Jordan alone.

And today in Zaatari, the residents have come out in their droves

to take part in a one-off march to express their thanks

to the country's king for his hospitality.

THEY CHANT

So they're chanting the King of Jordan blessings.

They're obviously really passionate about their message.

MAN ULULATES

They're hoping for about 20,000 people,

which would be approximately a quarter

of the population of the city.

In the UK, ordinarily, if they're going to protest like this,

it's usually a big crowd of people angry about something.

Protesting against something.

Unlike this, which is a big march of thanks.

I'm feeling a bit emotional just being here.

It's their only way of expressing anything,

these people who are away from their homeland,

and they just want to tell the people who've taken them in,

"Thank you from the bottom of our hearts",

it's a very powerful, powerful feeling in the air.

Having been here a while and gone into people's homes

and talked to them and looked them in the eyes,

they are just good, ordinary people

whose country is a complete mess,

and they have no say and no power in what's going on.

And they just want to go home.

The day of the wrestling tournament has finally arrived,

and it's a full house.

Wo-ho-ho-ow.

This is brilliant. I'm really looking forward to this.

CHEERING

Excellent.

Despite his fighting partner and best friend Bassam having

returned to Syria, Mohammed is as determined as ever to do well.

WHISTLE BLOWS

THEY WHISTLE AND SHOUT

Even the small ones, they're just these little packets of energy.

It's SO loud in here!

It's like being in the middle of Wembley Stadium.

He's so fast, this guy.

I don't understand how they're not snapping each other's necks,

it's quite... It can be quite brutal.

Mohammed is stepping into the ring right now.

And he's really getting stuck in there!

Come on! Come on!

Jesus.

It's vicious!

Wahey!

There are three medals up for grabs in each of the age categories.

As well as two overall trophies for the entire tournament -

best wrestler and most committed player.

If you look around right now, you see that every single kid

in this tent is hanging on Coach Mohamed's every single word.

They worship the guy, absolutely worship him.

And you can see his sense of pride with all these little kids

whose lives he's changed. And...

HE EXHALES

..it's an amazing bond of trust that he's got with these guys,

it's incredible.

Here he goes. Yeah!

He's just absolutely beaming at the moment.

OTHER BOYS WHISTLE

Brilliant. That was brilliant. Well done, my friend, can I have a look?

That is fantastic.

Medal here, and then the ear-to-ear smile right there, yep?

He can't stop laughing. Well done, dude.

COACH MOHAMED SPEAKS ARABIC

And now it's time for the two big prizes to be presented.

UDAY SOBS

BOYS CHANT

But the next winner isn't here to collect his prize.

CHEERING

THEY SHOUT AND WHISTLE

Mohammed may not have won one of the top prizes,

but he's keen to tell best friend Bassam about HIS trophy win.

Good news delivered,

Mohammed's dad wants to hear how things are back home.

With the situation in Syria remaining unstable,

the next generation is being born far away from their homeland.

Like many Syrian women, 31-year-old mum of four Mariam

is preparing to give birth in a refugee camp.

But it's not the only thing that makes this pregnancy unusual.

Mariam's due date is just two weeks away.

She is keen to have a natural birth,

so she can deliver in the camp's maternity unit and avoid being

transferred to a hospital in another city, miles away from her family.

For Mariam, it is now just a matter of time before she can

welcome her babies to their new home in Zaatari.

And she's not the only one playing the waiting game.

Abu Tarek. How are you today?

It's our last few days here, and Javid has come back to see

how Abu Tarek is getting on with his plans for going to Canada.

-You brought the suitcases.

-Yes.

How long have you been so ready as this?

So do you think that waiting is still hopeful?

Gosh, so others in your group have gone already

and you're still waiting? That must be really hard.

Mmm.

'I guess Abu Tarek and his family are an example of many families'

here who are just in limbo.

Waiting to go home to Syria or waiting to know

where they can put roots down.

He's living a suspended life,

because he's packed up everything and he's just waiting.

After all, others have felt they're putting roots down here,

although it's not home,

and, almost, for him a no would be just as good an answer as a yes,

so he can get on with rebuilding his life, wherever it may be.

BABY CRIES

A week and a half before her due date, and 31-year-old Mariam

has gone into labour with twins at Zaatari's maternity hospital.

11 babies are born in Zaatari every single day,

and the hospital is about to reach an important milestone.

SHE GROANS IN AGONY

SHE BREATHES RAPIDLY

Mariam, what's your dream for your children?

This place is remarkable and unique,

and I'm left with a very bittersweet feeling about it.

On the one hand,

I'm amazed by the huge infrastructure projects -

the water, the sewage, the food distribution, and of course,

people whilst they're here should be able to live with dignity.

But it also spells out "permanence."

The one thing they all want is to go home.

They want to be able to bring up their children freely in Syria,

with a future, and here that future is uncertain.

But also, they've blown me away.

Their resilience, their spirits,

their humanity - all of that has made this place thrive,

and because of their people and because of their situation,

it is what it is. And Zaatari has become their home.