Syrian refugees in Lebanon tell of torture, executions and snipers. They have escaped from the terror in their homeland, but they are not welcomed in Lebanon.
When the last screw has been fastened into the foot, the shot wound has been bound up and the man with the compound fracture in his lower thigh has stopped screaming, Dr Ahmed stands exhausted on the linoleum floor of the hospital ward, flanked by cabins containing patients with severe injuries, wondering which patient he will treat next. In Room 532 lies 13 year old Ghafran Koukaz, whose first name means "pardon" or "mercy".
The sniper whose bullet went through her upper thigh, severing the nerves so that her leg is now a feelingless mass of flesh, showed no mercy when he aimed at the girl from his hiding place and let fire.
Next door, in Room 533, is 22 year old Hassan, who trod on a landmine while fleeing from Syria.
The explosion ripped both his hands off, and there are still pieces of shrapnel lodged in his scab covered face.
Dr Ahmed's eyes come to rest on the left hand room. The girl will be first.