Nearly six decades after it was built as a “temporary” solution, Baqaa refugee camp north of Amman is still very much a permanent reality. In her latest report for The Media Line, Giorgia Valente walks us through a place that has become a symbol of forgotten promises, statelessness, and stalled diplomacy [1]—where over 100,000 Palestinians, many of them born long after 1967, are still waiting for a way forward.
Life in Baqaa isn’t just hard—it’s suspended. Over 60% of residents are under 30, yet tens of thousands remain without Jordanian citizenship. That means no voting, no public-sector jobs, and no shot at many universities or basic services. “It’s as if they don’t exist,” says Muhammad Shafut, a resident and former Muslim Brotherhood leader.
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Historian Abu Ghaleb puts it bluntly: “Refugees are not living with dignity.” UNRWA is still running schools and clinics here, but after years of budget cuts, resources are stretched thin. Fewer teachers, less medicine, more frustration.
The Palestinian Authority can’t do much either. With no legal jurisdiction in Jordan and hamstrung by the still-stalled Oslo framework, its influence stops at symbolic gestures. “We’re stuck,” admits former PA diplomat Mamdouh Jabr.
Former lawmaker Hamada Faraneh adds that Jordan’s efforts to preserve its own national identity have left ex-Gazans feeling doubly excluded—from both the Jordanian system and the Palestinian cause.
Giorgia Valente’s report [1] is a powerful reminder that camps like Baqaa are not just relics of the past. They are very much part of the present—and unless something changes, the future too. Don’t just read about it—watch the video report [4] and hear the voices yourself.