Disabled and Displaced Our World

It's one of the greatest humanitarian disasters

of our generation.

A conflict that has not only torn apart families,

but an entire country.

Around 11 million Syrians have been forced to leave their homes.

Many have fled to neighbouring countries to escape

the ongoing violence.

I'm Nikki Fox, and I'm in Jordan, a country that admits it is unable to

support the estimated 1.4 million refugees it has already taken in.

At the moment, I just think about walking again,

and everything will come with that.

Just take it one step...?

Yeah, step-by-step.

If we are really looking to respond in a comprehensive way,

you're not talking about millions of dollars of financial support,

but billions of dollars of support.

With a third having a disability or a serious health

condition, I'm here to find out how the most vulnerable survive.

This is their story.

The first place we visit is Zaatari refugee camp,

a city in the middle of a desert.

This place has grown exponentially since the start of the conflict.

Only a few miles from the Syrian border, it is where more than 80,000

refugees have sought safety.

With its barbed wire fences and rows of white boxes, it is unlike

any city I've ever seen before.

The first person I meet is a little girl who has only ever

known conflict.

Five-year-old Malik lost her left leg when her home

in Syria was bombed.

She's learning to walk with her new frame.

Her mum tells me about the day the tanks came.

Malik often forgets she's in pain.

But here, she is safe.

Bye! Bye!

How difficult is it for you as a mum?

She didn't want to show her face, to protect her family still in Syria.

What do you hope for the future?

Malik's mother can't afford to dream of going back to Syria.

She has more immediate concerns.

Living here with a disability is tough.

Apart from the fact you are away from

your home and everything you know - your family, familiarity - living

with a disability is tricky getting around, logistically difficult.

I can imagine a lot of disabled people do feel

a bit trapped in their own spaces, in their own places.

They just can't get out.

One charity that helps people like Malik is Handicap International.

They estimate that around 30% of refugees in the camp have some

kind of disability or chronic health condition.

Every day, dozens of disabled refugees come for vital treatment.

You are pushing me!

You're so strong.

One of those is 28-year-old Ragda, who has cerebral palsy.

Unlike Malik, living in Zaatari has given her a new-found independence.

Hello!

This could be a bit of a bumpy arrival.

Bear with me, bear with me.

She fled Syria three years ago.

The only way she could do it was by being carried across the border.

Lovely to meet you!

How did you do it without a wheelchair, Ragda?

Ragda's disability made her life back home difficult.

She had no wheelchair and very little support.

And that was before the war.

Do you hope to one day go back home?

No?

Why not?

Why?

OK!

THEY LAUGH

It is only since arriving in Zaatari that Ragda started to get regular

physiotherapy to help with her cerebral palsy, but what has really

made a difference to her life is the fact she now has a wheelchair

from Handicap International.

Ragda's parents died back in Syria.

She is now completely dependent on the charity.

Do you feel looked after here?

That is definitely perfect.

Ragda, it has been a pleasure meeting you, because I

can't imagine how you get around.

But you are what we call in the UK a 'tough cookie'.

That is what you are, a tough cookie.

# Don't be shy

# Just let your feelings roll on by #.

Even with a new-found sense of freedom, she said having

something like my scooter would make a huge difference to her life.

They all want my scooter.

LAUGHTER

Go around in a circle!

The children have been fascinated by my scooter.

I don't think anyone has seen a mobility scooter before,

not one that looks like this anyway.

I have had kids running behind me in total fascination.

I don't think they have anything here that is motorised.

No electric wheelchairs, no mobility scooters.

The only mobility they have is maybe a walking frame

or a manual wheelchair.

The difficulties I saw in Zaatari are very much mirrored here

in Jordan's newest camp, Azraq.

Built simply because there is no more room in Zaatari.

This place is even harder to get around

because of the sheer size of it.

Home to more than 20,000 refugees, but with space for five times that

amount, the camp feels desolate.

In between rows upon rows of metal roofs,

large ditches line the long dusty roads.

Eventually we came across the only supermarket on

the camp, but it took us some time.

We had a van.

The majority here don't have that luxury.

Which is sad, because shopping is just that little bit of normality.

If you live far away and have a disability, it would be

really difficult if not impossible.

There is a car, but you have to pay for it.

If you don't have money, that could be very tricky.

This place is the future for the many thousands stuck

at the Jordanian border desperate to get in.

The UNHCR says they are just about managing to provide the very

basics, but they admit it is impossible to meet the needs of the

hundreds of thousands of disabled refugees already living in Jordan.

If we are really looking to respond in a comprehensive way to the needs

of Syrians, this has to go a step above what has already been done.

You are not talking about millions of dollars of financial support,

you are talking about billions of dollars of financial support.

All in all, the services we provide in the camp are geared

primarily to covering basic needs.

So often these nuanced issues are quite a challenge to respond to

as fully as we would like to.

I'm always surprised at the resilience and drive

and determination of the Syrians themselves

to respond to their own needs.

But this resilience is tested even further.

80% of all of the refugees in Jordan don't live in these camps.

They try and survive in and around the main cities,

often hidden and in poverty.

After seeing the struggles disabled refugees have around two of Jordan's

main camps, I'm back in the van heading to the capital city, Amman.

A city which has for many years been the home for the displaced.

This area is known as the Palestinian camp,

and dates back decades.

But more and more Syrians are living here.

Why?

Because it's cheap.

In fact, the higher the floor of an apartment building,

the less it costs, which makes it very impractical

if you've got a disability.

The charity Handicap International doesn't just support

disabled refugees in the camps, they also have a number of mobile teams

that go to help those who are isolated.

We have many cases here.

They have really a problem in mobility.

Many with spinal cord injuries, many with traumatic brain injuries.

They cannot go down the stairs.

You can see from here the stairs are really crazy.

Yeah, they're mad, aren't they?

Many of the refugees they see live in high-rise apartment blocks.

This man and his brother left Syria not long after the start

of the conflict.

They were successful factory owners back home, so providing for

their children wasn't a problem.

He was a hard-working and generous man.

But the pressure he was under, being forced to leave

his country and the loss of his business, were all too much.

His brother says this contributed to him having a stroke.

The family live on the third floor.

It is all they can afford.

The only way he can leave his home is if his brother carries him.

They have received some financial support from various charities,

like paying for the initial treatment, but now what

little they have goes towards paying for his ongoing medical bills.

While his physical health is slowly improving, his family

remain trapped in an unsuitable home with very little income.

That particular area that we were in is the only area that they can

live in because of the price.

They don't have any money, their medical bills are huge,

there's nothing...

..there's no other solution, really.

If you're being quite basic about it,

there's just no way near enough money.

Jordan are coping with a huge influx of refugees and 30% of them

have disabilities or a chronic health condition.

And there just is a massive funding shortfall.

Since 2014, Syrian refugees are no longer eligible for free

secondary healthcare, that so many with disabilities rely on.

That's prosthetics or, in this case,

physiotherapy and ongoing medication.

There are an estimated 1.4 million refugees now living in Jordan.

25% of this country's budget is spent on them.

With a huge funding shortfall from the international community, I asked

the government if this meant the most vulnerable are being forgotten.

We are very hospitable people, but at the end of the day there

will come a time when you need to look at the interests of Jordanians

vis-a-vis the interests of non-Jordanians

who are living in Jordan.

As a country, as the government, our priority,

as His Majesty has said, is serving the Jordanian people.

So with the government admitting it is overstretched and underfunded,

how do disabled refugees get the treatment they need?

Well, it's down to charities like Medecins Sans Frontieres to step in.

This is the hospital many injured Syrians come to

for that vital after-care.

They've had their life-saving surgery and here is where they

begin the long recovery process.

I was in my home, suddenly the wall exploded.

And I find both legs injured.

And they immediately brought me here.

And I woke up here after a few days.

This man's been receiving intensive treatment for nearly a year now.

It is hard.

Sometimes exhausting, but it is getting easier every day.

So I think in the next three months it will be too easy.

It will be so easy!

You don't even need to turn up!

I will get rid of him, my physio.

He's a goner!

Before he was injured in the war he was a training lawyer

and a pretty decent footballer.

Here, at the hospital, he has been exercising hard.

Almost every day.

Have you got some music you listen to?

Music?

Yeah, do you listen to music?

No.

I play Clash of Clans.

What's that?

It's a game!

Never played it.

Candy Crush?

Oh, Candy Crush.

Everyone knows Candy Crush.

It's entertaining.

What's your aim for the future?

I think go back to my home.

Just that.

Do you have family still?

Yes, all my family in Syria.

They are waiting for me.

Are they?

Yes. I will go back.

When I start walk I will go back immediately.

Really? Yes.

That's what keeps you going?

Yes. Yes.

While he sees his future back home in Syria, right now this

hospital is where he needs to be.

But soon he will have to move on.

So where will he go if he can't get back home?

There are many disabled refugees who end up on the streets of Jordan's

capital city.

This centre was set up to find and take care of those people.

Many of them will have arrived in Jordan without family or friends.

Here, they're no longer alone.

A home by definition is somewhere you live with people who love you

and you love them back and this is what everybody here feels.

Us, the staff, and patients.

They visit hospitals and search the surrounding areas

for those refugees who are at their lowest and have nowhere to go.

If this place is not existing, I think you would end up alone,

neglected, on a mattress in some corner in a dark, empty room.

I don't want to imagine.

I love it when I spend my time here.

Making fun of them, they making fun of me.

They love you?

I love them so much.

We are back on the road again.

Heading for Irbid, a city which is 20 kilometres

from the Syrian border.

It's our last day and we are off to visit another centre

for disabled refugees.

Unlike the last place there's no physio or

specialist rehabilitation here.

Instead these young men with injuries from war

meet every week to talk about how they see their future as

disabled refugees living in Jordan.

Their lives have been changed forever, but they are resilient.

They don't want sympathy.

Guys, what's your message to other disabled people?

One, two, three, go!

Despite their situation, these young men won't be beaten.

But I can't help thinking about their future

and the future of those I've met.

All of these people have very different stories.

But they all share one thing.

A total reliance on charities to survive.

And with too many people and not enough money,

what does their future hold?

I've asked the question a lot, where do you see yourself in five years

time, and many people are just...

They can't really say.

It's getting by every day, that's what's important.

That's what they have to do and that's the only thing they can do.

After the fairly windy spell of weather that many saw over

the festive period, things are turning colder

and much quieter too.

Here's the scene in Highland Scotland on Monday,