By Raghed Waked and Zohra Bensemra
BEIRUT, April 28 (Reuters) - It has been nearly two months, but Rabih Khreiss still has trouble recognising his new life.
The father-of-nine could once put food on the table through his car workshop in southern Lebanon, but is now barely surviving in a tent in the capital Beirut.
Like so many others, the Khreiss family fled their southern hometown of Khiyam in the early hours of March 2, moments after learning that the Hezbollah armed group had fired into Israel in what
would become the opening salvos of a new war.
Khreiss, a 45-year-old mechanic, swiftly deduced Israel would bomb southern Lebanese towns in retaliation and rushed his family out with only the clothes on their backs.
He guessed correctly: the strikes began within moments. What Khreiss could not have imagined was that he would still be living on Beirut's streets nearly two months later as the conflict grinds on, relying on donations.
"I feel like my children and I are prisoners in a room, sentenced to life imprisonment. But when will relief come so we can get out of this life sentence? No one knows," said Khreiss.
LEBANON'S WAR HOMELESS FACE BLEAK FUTURE
His family wake up each day in tents built with wooden beams and tarps that rattle menacingly on windy days. Without showers, they bathe in plastic tubs and handwash their clothes.
His older sister, living with them, has cancer but struggles to find healthcare.
"We're living in tents, not knowing where these days will take us. We start thinking, 'if only we could wake up and win the lottery so we could get out of this mess'," Khreiss said.
Despite a U.S.-brokered ceasefire, Israel has continued striking Lebanon and its troops are occupying a strip of the south, destroying homes they describe as Hezbollah infrastructure.
That includes near-daily controlled demolitions in Khiyam, now almost entirely flattened and empty of its former population of around 10,000 people.
Hezbollah, meanwhile, has kept up attacks against Israeli troops in Lebanon and on northern Israel.
Israel and Hezbollah accuse each other of breaching the ceasefire, which was signed by the Israeli and Lebanese governments but not specifically by Hezbollah.
The continuing hostilities have deepened a sense of despair among many Lebanese, particularly the 1.2 million displaced who had hoped a ceasefire could secure their return home but instead find themselves indefinitely barred from the south.
"Khiyam is my town, my region, my land, my home, my work, my people, my loved ones, everything. Of course, all my memories are in Khiyam. I miss everything about it," said Khreiss of the town, nestled between hills and farmland including olive groves.
HEZBOLLAH AND ISRAEL IN CYCLE OF CONFLICT
One of Khreiss's older sons lost an eye when an Israeli strike hit their Khiyam home during the last Hezbollah-Israel war in 2024. Khreiss pulled his children out of the rubble with his own hands, and said he had aged "years" in a single hour.
His garage was damaged during that war. Still, he returned and rebuilt - but does not know if his shop or home are still standing now.
Khreiss fears anxiety over his children's future will trigger a stroke. He is considering selling his car if he cannot find work.
"It's showing in my children that they've never known joy or happiness, never been to an amusement park, never had fun like other children," he said.
"I brought them into this world, and I have to take responsibility for them and secure their future. But circumstances have forced me to do nothing for them. There's nothing I can do."
(Writing by Maya Gebeily; Editing by Andrew Cawthorne)
