The escalating conflict between Israel and Hezbollah in Lebanon has placed thousands of migrant workers, including many Nepalis, in a vulnerable situation. In Beirut's southern suburb of Dahieh, Israeli airstrikes have become a nightly occurrence, leaving residents, including Nepali workers, in a state of constant fear.

“I haven't been able to sleep because of the sound of bombs. Day and night, with just hours between strikes, it's terrifying. You never know where the next one will land, or if you'll survive,” says Kumari Kshetri, who has worked as a domestic worker in Lebanon for 16 years. Originally from Jhapa, she has been living near Hazmiya, close to Dahieh, where the airstrikes are concentrated. “One night, I couldn't stop crying, thinking of my son back home.”

Kshetri is one of many Nepali workers facing a dilemma—torn between the urge to return home for safety and the necessity to keep working to support their families. Her son is studying engineering, and her income has been funding his education. “He tells me to come home, but what can I do? His studies alone cost Rs25,000 to Rs30,000 each month. I don’t have any savings. If I leave, his education will stop,” she explains.

For Ramechhap native Junkiri Magar, who has been working in Beirut since 2009, the situation is equally dire. Her children constantly urge her to return, but the financial reality prevents her from doing so. “I earn around Rs60,000 a month, which helps cover my children's education and needs. If I return to Nepal, I’ll lose my income, and at my age, it's hard to find work elsewhere,” Magar shares. She worries that her family will struggle without her earnings, and given the government's restrictions on sending domestic workers to countries like Lebanon, returning to work abroad would be difficult.

The government banned sending domestic workers, particularly women, to Lebanon in 2010, citing safety concerns. Before the ban, 12,000 Nepali women had already made their way to Lebanon. Since then, only those who were already employed have continued working under existing contracts. According to Dipendra Upreti, the founding president of the Non-Resident Nepali Association in Lebanon, “Many of the older domestic workers have left, and new workers haven’t been allowed. The ones who remain are those with good employers.”

Despite the constant threat of airstrikes, some workers find solace in the support of their employers. “My employer keeps telling me not to worry, that nothing will happen here,” says Shreya Thokar from Rasuwa, who has been working in Broummana for a decade. “They’ve even offered to buy me a ticket home if I’m too scared, but I’m waiting it out.”

Currently around 1,200 Nepalis are living in Beirut and its surroundings, according to the Nepali Embassy in Egypt, which handles Lebanese affairs. Most of them are domestic workers. The situation for migrant workers in Lebanon has become increasingly precarious as the conflict intensifies. Hundreds of foreign workers have been left homeless, and many have sought shelter in the mountains after being abandoned by their employers. The International Organisation for Migration (IOM) estimates that there are 176,500 foreign workers in Lebanon, including Nepalis, many of whom are now displaced.

However, some Nepali workers feel they are relatively safe. “Israel's attacks seem focused on Hezbollah, so we don’t feel as directly targeted,” says Saru Gurung from Kaski, who has been in Lebanon since 2009. Despite the danger, she is staying put, largely due to financial obligations. “I’m preparing to send my son to Australia for his studies. If I leave Lebanon now, that dream ends,” she says.

There are reports in international media that peacekeepers in Lebanon also became the victims of Israeli attacks on Thursday. At least 18 people were killed and scores wounded in two Israeli strikes in Beruit, according to the BBC.

As international pressure mounts on Israel for a ceasefire, many Nepali workers in Lebanon are left in limbo, unsure of their future. They continue to face the daily threats of war, hoping for peace while weighing the risks of staying against the challenges of returning home.

For now, the choice is to wait—wait for the conflict to end, for safety to return, and for the day when they can finally return to Nepal without the fear of losing everything.