The twin explosions in the Port of Beirut on August 4 exacerbated Lebanon’s deepening economic crisis, stranding thousands of destitute migrant workers without work and no clear route home. Many came to Lebanon through the kafala system, a sponsorsh
       
     
 Kenyan migrants pack their bags and check their weight limits before heading to the airport to fly back to Nairobi. This flight home comes after weeks of sit-in demonstrations at the Kenyan consulate by Kenyans expressing their wish to return home.
       
     
 Natalie*, a Kenyan migrant, came to Lebanon to earn money to pay for her sibling’s education. She worked for two years but left after her employers became violent towards her. She was sleeping on the streets until a local organisation helped her fin
       
     
 Faruk, a Bangladeshi migrant in Beirut, was working as a day labourer until COVID-19 lockdowns closed down many businesses and he took out loans from his family to pay for the living costs for himself and a relative who joined him in Lebanon. “I’m a
       
     
 Mariatu was sending money home to support her family in Sierra Leone before she lost her job six months ago. Now she relies on them to meet her daily needs and pay rent on a bedroom shared with five other women while they await the chance to return
       
     
 Amianata stays at a safe house in Beirut with other migrant workers who have fled abusive working conditions in their place of work. “I signed the contract before coming here. Then I realized this job is not what I signed for” she says.
       
     
 “They told me I would be making US$500 per month to clean houses. When I came and told my employer this she said, ‘What, do you think you’re a doctor? You’re not that valuable,’” said Tina*, a Sierra Leonean migrant.
       
     
 IOM estimates 24,500 migrants lost their jobs, homes or were directly affected in other ways by the Beirut blasts.
       
     
 Bizualme came to work in Lebanon in 2017 and had been working as a house cleaner until she lost her job when the economic crisis started last year. She suffers from tuberculosis and has been too weak to leave the room she shares with a friend and he
       
     
 “When I came here, I met a lot of other Cameroonian girls who had problems, who didn't go out at all, girls who experienced rape, who were not getting paid or didn’t have any days off. I thought to myself, why not select a group to help these girls,
       
     
 The twin explosions in the Port of Beirut on August 4 exacerbated Lebanon’s deepening economic crisis, stranding thousands of destitute migrant workers without work and no clear route home. Many came to Lebanon through the kafala system, a sponsorsh
       
     

The twin explosions in the Port of Beirut on August 4 exacerbated Lebanon’s deepening economic crisis, stranding thousands of destitute migrant workers without work and no clear route home. Many came to Lebanon through the kafala system, a sponsorship-based employment scheme used by many countries in the Middle East that allows one to work while their employer doubles as their sponsor, handling their visa and legal status. While the system is intended to open jobs to migrants, it also exposes them to exploitation by placing great power in the hands of employers, many of whom confiscate their employees’ passports, making it extremely difficult to leave.

 Kenyan migrants pack their bags and check their weight limits before heading to the airport to fly back to Nairobi. This flight home comes after weeks of sit-in demonstrations at the Kenyan consulate by Kenyans expressing their wish to return home.
       
     

Kenyan migrants pack their bags and check their weight limits before heading to the airport to fly back to Nairobi. This flight home comes after weeks of sit-in demonstrations at the Kenyan consulate by Kenyans expressing their wish to return home.

 Natalie*, a Kenyan migrant, came to Lebanon to earn money to pay for her sibling’s education. She worked for two years but left after her employers became violent towards her. She was sleeping on the streets until a local organisation helped her fin
       
     

Natalie*, a Kenyan migrant, came to Lebanon to earn money to pay for her sibling’s education. She worked for two years but left after her employers became violent towards her. She was sleeping on the streets until a local organisation helped her find her way back to Kenya.

 Faruk, a Bangladeshi migrant in Beirut, was working as a day labourer until COVID-19 lockdowns closed down many businesses and he took out loans from his family to pay for the living costs for himself and a relative who joined him in Lebanon. “I’m a
       
     

Faruk, a Bangladeshi migrant in Beirut, was working as a day labourer until COVID-19 lockdowns closed down many businesses and he took out loans from his family to pay for the living costs for himself and a relative who joined him in Lebanon. “I’m approximately $6,000 in debt to family members in Bangladesh who now believe I am not a good person. I have land that I bought with the money I earned here. If I’m able to go back home, I’ll sell that to cover the debt and search for a job on a farm or as an electrician or try to open up a shop. God willing, I can get married,” he said.

 Mariatu was sending money home to support her family in Sierra Leone before she lost her job six months ago. Now she relies on them to meet her daily needs and pay rent on a bedroom shared with five other women while they await the chance to return
       
     

Mariatu was sending money home to support her family in Sierra Leone before she lost her job six months ago. Now she relies on them to meet her daily needs and pay rent on a bedroom shared with five other women while they await the chance to return to Sierra Leone. “For some of us, it's our parents who are now sending us money because we're suffering here. A while ago I sent them USD 600 but they ended up sending it all back to me.” said Mariatu.

 Amianata stays at a safe house in Beirut with other migrant workers who have fled abusive working conditions in their place of work. “I signed the contract before coming here. Then I realized this job is not what I signed for” she says.
       
     

Amianata stays at a safe house in Beirut with other migrant workers who have fled abusive working conditions in their place of work. “I signed the contract before coming here. Then I realized this job is not what I signed for” she says.

 “They told me I would be making US$500 per month to clean houses. When I came and told my employer this she said, ‘What, do you think you’re a doctor? You’re not that valuable,’” said Tina*, a Sierra Leonean migrant.
       
     

“They told me I would be making US$500 per month to clean houses. When I came and told my employer this she said, ‘What, do you think you’re a doctor? You’re not that valuable,’” said Tina*, a Sierra Leonean migrant.

 IOM estimates 24,500 migrants lost their jobs, homes or were directly affected in other ways by the Beirut blasts.
       
     

IOM estimates 24,500 migrants lost their jobs, homes or were directly affected in other ways by the Beirut blasts.

 Bizualme came to work in Lebanon in 2017 and had been working as a house cleaner until she lost her job when the economic crisis started last year. She suffers from tuberculosis and has been too weak to leave the room she shares with a friend and he
       
     

Bizualme came to work in Lebanon in 2017 and had been working as a house cleaner until she lost her job when the economic crisis started last year. She suffers from tuberculosis and has been too weak to leave the room she shares with a friend and her friend’s son in the past three months.

 “When I came here, I met a lot of other Cameroonian girls who had problems, who didn't go out at all, girls who experienced rape, who were not getting paid or didn’t have any days off. I thought to myself, why not select a group to help these girls,
       
     

“When I came here, I met a lot of other Cameroonian girls who had problems, who didn't go out at all, girls who experienced rape, who were not getting paid or didn’t have any days off. I thought to myself, why not select a group to help these girls,” said Cindy, a 29-year-old Cameroonian migrant. She runs a shelter for women who’ve escaped exploitative employment situations and is fundraising to pay for the travel costs of those who wish to return to Cameroon.