Hassan Seif al-Din never expected that, at the age of 65, he would be teaching martial arts to children in a football stadium in Beirut. But these are not normal times.

The coach fled to Camille Chamoun Sports City Stadium from Dahiyeh, one of the capital's southern suburbs, along with thousands of others. He now lives in one of the many rows of tents set up in the venue.

The Middle East was plunged into fresh fighting on February 28 when the United States and Israel attacked Iran and the conflict spread into Lebanon just days later. In April, The Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights at the United Nations said that over a million people in Lebanon had been displaced as Israel has bombed Hezbollah targets in the country. Hassan is just one of them.

"There was so much bombing around us, so we escaped and ended up displaced here at the Sports City," Hassan told DW. After he arrived, he was determined to maintain his martial arts routine.

"I was training here on my own for two to three hours a day," he said.

As he did so, he noticed children around watching him.

"I thought to myself, 'let me bring them together, train them, and bring some joy into their lives through this sport, help them forget what's happening in the city, teach them how to switch off for a while and build their strength — physically and mentally.'"

Adnan is one of the children who has been learning a new skill. 

"I really love how the coach teaches us, especially how to defend myself and build confidence," he told DW. "If someone attacked me in the street and tried to kidnap me, I'd know how to defend myself."

Sports as a distraction

There's more to it than self-defense for Hassan. It is about giving young people something else to think about than bombs, the homes they are missing and their normal lives. It is about giving them something to look forward to.

"The displaced people living in the tents carry their own trauma," he said.

"(During training) they're away from everything happening outside, enjoying being together and training with me. Having a coach and a team is something they never had before, so they take to it naturally. They've become like family.

"It means so much to them to forget the pain and everything happening outside this pitch. They're happy. Sometimes they will come and wake me up saying, 'Let's go, coach, time to train.'"

Football clubs chip in with support

The stadium has long been the home of the Lebanon national team and the venue has witnessed some of the country's greatest sporting moments, such as a famous win over South Korea in 2011 during World Cup qualification. Older residents still talk of 1975 when Pele played a friendly there in front of over 35,000 fans.

The stadium reflects the country's troubled history to an extent. It was destroyed during the Israeli invasion of 1982 and rebuilt in 1990 after the 15-year-long civil war ended. In 2024, it hosted Hassan Nasrallah's funeral after the Hezbollah leader was killed in an Israeli strike.

Football is the country's most popular sport and clubs have been working hard to help those in need.

"I am happy that the stadium is able to shelter people," Wael Chehayeb, a member of the Executive Committee of the Lebanon Football Association, told DW.

"It's also sad that this, a place that usually brings joy and pulls people out of their stressful lives to come and watch games, has to be used like this."

Some of the country's football clubs have been busy helping out.

"Players and officials at second-division club Akhaa have volunteered at public schools where some displaced families were sheltered," Chehayeb said.

"Clubs such as Safa and Nejmeh sheltered some families at their stadiums and provided food. Other clubs like Ansar helped with food parcels."

Despite being unable to use dressing rooms and other facilities, some players are still training as clubs feel that players being around and interacting with the families helps lift spirits.

'A sense of solidarity'

Anything that makes life in the stadium easier is welcome for its temporary residents, such as the family of Howaida Amin Mzannar who fled from Aitaroun, a village in southern Lebanon. It had become so dangerous that the family, which has been forced to flee in the past, was unable to bring any of its possessions.

"We have been suffering from the situation on the border for a long time," Mzannar told DW. "Now we are here but it is so difficult, not knowing where you will be tomorrow, there is the psychological pressure due to the uncertainty of the future."

The only comfort to be found comes in others, their new and sudden neighbors.

"There is a sense of solidarity among people; everyone is helping each other" Mzannar said.

"Life is simple and follows a daily routine: cleaning, organizing, sitting together, and the children are trying to create a sense of normal life."

Hassan plans to continue helping in that regard.

"I never imagined I'd be displaced one day and become a coach at the same time. It's God's will — a coincidence that led me here," he said.

"I'm truly happy here. Believe it or not, I feel like I want to stay here and train them for a year, two or three. In a year and a half, I could make national champions out of them."

Sara Hteit in Beirut contributed to this report.

Edited by: Chuck Penfold