Like millions of other Palestinian refugees, Abu Jamal is waiting. He is waiting to return to his home, although he says he knows that, deep down, he will not likely be granted this right during his lifetime.
Unlike many other refugees, especially those in Lebanon, Abu Jamal shows optimism – even after he lost a son in the horrific September 1982 massacre of Sabra and Shatilla camps during the Israeli invasion of Beirut, in which more than 3,000 Palestinians and a few hundred Lebanese civilians were slaughtered by Christian militias backed by the Israeli army.
Abu Jamal told the Middle East Times he is still optimistic that the refugees' ordeal will eventually pass, even though he suffers from recurring flashbacks of losing a second son in 1985 in one of the many battles during the 1975-1990 Lebanese civil war.
Although Abu Jamal, his children and his fellow refugees in Lebanon are treated "worst than stray animals," as he puts it, "we still have hope to return."
Yet the despair, helplessness and, worst of all, hopelessness, dull the eyes of whole families in Sabra and Shatilla camps, who, like many other Palestinians in this country, were born in Lebanon and live as virtual prisoners and on U.N. handouts, only to survive.
"It's like they're just waiting … waiting for salvation, or for death," a Palestinian friend told me while walking through the stench-filled alleys of Sabra.
It is no secret that the Palestinian refugees of Lebanon are the worst off in terms of living rights compared to the other host countries, which also include Jordan, Syria, the West Bank and Gaza Strip.
A total of almost 4.5 million Palestinian refugees are registered with the U.N. Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNRWA), 411,000 of them in Lebanon. But the numbers are said to be much higher.
Suhail al-Natour, director of the Palestinian Human Development Center in Beirut, said when the Palestinians were forced to leave their homes in Palestine by the Zionists' 1948 war to establish their state, only the needy and impoverished registered to receive UNRWA aid.
There is a forgotten group of refugees as well. Around 5,000 Palestinians have absolutely no identification papers.
Palestinian fighters had come to Lebanon during the "revolution" without identity documents. They married and had children, but were forced to leave their families behind when the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) left the country after the 1982 Israeli invasion.
Natour said their children have not been allowed to attend schools and are now getting married and having children of their own without legal documents.
"They physically live in Lebanon but are legally non-existent," Natour told the Middle East Times in an interview at his office in Mar Elias refugee camp in Beirut. "And their numbers are growing."
But the registered refugees are no better off. Natour said that after 60 years in exile, the Palestinians in Lebanon have no legal status, no right to work, no social security, and the restrictions have been tightened after a 2001 law banned Palestinians from owning property in the country.
"Although there was a halt in military attacks against the camps after the [civil] war stopped, but there is an ongoing legal war to confiscate all their humanitarian rights, making the lives of Palestinians hell," Natour complained.
The Palestinians here are walking a thin line in political terms, as well. In the wake of the Palestinian divisions in the West Bank and Gaza and the Lebanese political crisis, the refugee population has so far resisted attempts to be dragged into either dispute.
The Palestinian factions in Lebanon have apparently agreed not to act on the struggle between Fatah and Hamas, namely because they are armed and live within the same confined areas, where same family members would have affiliations with, or support for, the rival parties.
Palestinian blood spilled in Lebanon has not been forgotten.
"There is a general awareness that any internal Palestinian struggle will be destructive and could give an excuse to many Lebanese who want to end the Palestinian presence here," Natour said.
Furthermore, the refugees have decided to resist promises made by some Lebanese politicians to improve their living conditions. They no longer trust the pro-Western government or the anti-Western Hezbollah-led opposition, because they know the payoff will be to back one side against the other, thereby polarizing the camp.
Despite the general Palestinian respect for Hezbollah's role in its fight against Israel, Natour explained, the Palestinians feel all the Lebanese parties are "colluding against them in terms of their rights."
He said that when Hezbollah had cabinet ministers and members in parliament in 2001, every lawmaker, except two, had voted in favor of the bill banning Palestinians from owning property in the country.
Lebanese politicians continue to use the "settlement" card as a pretext for prolonging the refugees' disturbing conditions and absence of basic social and economic rights, as if allowing them to make a decent and dignified living means they will abandon their right to return home.
When speaking to the refugees, they say they do not want to be "settled" or "absorbed" in their host country. Not because they reject Lebanon for pressing despair and poverty on them for six decades, but because they still cling to the belief in their human right, as recognized by international law, that one day they will return to the land that they once embraced as their real home.