Join the new cohort of We Are Not Numbers.

Thousands of Palestinian refugees in Lebanon are stateless, with no rights and few opportunities.

A photo reveals a Palestinian love story in Lebanon, weaving together resilience, culture, and emotions.

Tasked with writing six-word stories about life, writers from We Are Not Numbers are surprisingly prolific. Here’s a view inside their minds.

Walls seem to be the trendy way to ignore “unwantables.” Lebanon is no different when it comes to trying to “contain” refugees.

Lebanon finally has a president, after more than two years of no leader. But it’s bad news for refugees.

I was born in Lebanon, but government ministers do everything they can to make me feel like I’m “illegitimate.”

We want a life with meaning. If you respect human rights, you must work toward a permanent solution and meanwhile, let us live in dignity.

If I was asked to live that day again, I would never hesitate to put on my kuffiyeh and go. Like any other refugee, I am condemned with the hope of return.

When you are a Palestinian refugee in Lebanon, the color blue defines your life.

I am a Palestinian with American citizenship living in Lebanon. And that imposes a great responsibility.

I grew up in Lebanon’s largest refugee camp, the one most often in the news due to what often appears like “madness and mayhem”: Ein El-Helweh. But for me, it is simply “home.”