When Heba, a mother of four, was suddenly displaced from her home in the southern Beirut suburb of Dahiyeh on 2 March following the Israeli bombardment , the last thing on her mind was grabbing a pack of menstrual pads. She was running for her life and saving her children.
The 34-year-old is now living with four other displaced families in Bourj Hammoud, a densely populated area northeast of central Beirut
She describes the menstrual period as a social taboo or "aib" – a topic not fit for public discussion.
"Buying pads is a source of shame," Heba told The New Arab .
Displaced in an area she describes as unfamiliar to her, Heba is too embarrassed to ask a shopkeeper for pads, and with other people sharing the house, she says she can't even ask her husband to buy them so as not to embarrass him.
Heba is among the hundreds of thousands of internally displaced women in Lebanon amid Israel's invasion, who are bearing the brunt of the current regional war . A report by UN Women indicates that women and girls make up 52% of the displaced population, with more than half a million women and girls living in fragile and dangerous conditions.
Figures from UNICEF show the total number of displaced people (IDPs) is approximately 1.6 million.
Women and girls face specific challenges and restrictions regarding movement and access to services. With 87% of displaced people spread across host communities, rented accommodations, and informal arrangements, this widespread dispersion makes it difficult to track needs and deliver aid directly to women and girls.
This is where Jeyetna steps in. Established in 2021, this non-profit is dedicated to addressing period poverty and campaigning for menstrual justice in Lebanon.
"When I heard that the Jeyetna initiative provides period assistance, I felt a huge relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted off my chest," Heba said, adding that she received a package containing sanitary pads, painkillers, and a hot water bottle from Jeyetna days ago. From women to women In the Mar Mikhael neighbourhood east of Beirut, inside a small two-story shop no larger than 10 square metres dedicated entirely to menstrual supplies, a six-person team operates like a well-oiled machine.
Amanda Kouzi, co-founder of the initiative, explains that Jeyetna stepped in to fill a glaring gap in the humanitarian response in the early days of the war.
"The aid provided is limited to securing food and mattresses, but no one cares about menstrual supplies," Amanda told The New Arab . "So we stepped in as part of the community response, not just as an aid distributor."
In colloquial Lebanese, "jeyetna” is a term used to indicate that a person is on her period and stems from the universal idea that women share the menstrual cycle.
The initiative has reached over 10,000 women across Lebanon, according to Amanda, distributing 1,664 packs of painkillers and 545 hot water bottles used for pain relief.
"Just yesterday 3,000 women benefited from Jeyetna's services," Amanda shared. The initiative relies strictly on donations to secure supplies, launching drives through their official website, social media pages, or dedicated phone numbers.
One challenge they faced was fulfilling incoming requests, which average around 15 a day, while relying entirely on the financial support of donors.
But that may have been the least of their troubles.
"We are the only ones in Lebanon who didn't consider period supplies a secondary issue," Amanda said, "so we were bullied."
"But the bullying," she added, "backfired. It motivated us to give more, keep the initiative going, and break the taboo around menstruation."
She describes moments when the team’s mental health was drained because of the war conditions, but the drive to continue, she says, "gave us the push we needed so we could offer more."
A field study by the Jeyetna initiative found that some women resorted to tissues or rags instead of sanitary pads due to lack of access which poses serious health risks and causes infections, especially given the widespread inability to access basic hygiene supplies and clean water. From IDP to field coordinator Lynn Hamdan, a first-year marketing major at university, refused to stand idle despite being displaced herself, so the 18-year-old volunteered as a coordinator between displaced women and Jeyetna when she saw an Instagram story on its official page about their work.
Even though her southern Lebanon home was destroyed by Israeli bombardment, she says she empathised with the women’s needs for period supplies because she is one of them. She too is displaced in Bourj Hammoud .
"My need is the same as theirs," Lynn told The New Arab . "But I broke the taboo, whereas there are many who still haven't been able to."
Lynn's car was transformed into a miniature mobile warehouse for pads and medicines she receives from Jeyetna, to deliver to beneficiaries who contact her via WhatsApp groups or through the initiative’s registered lists.
Through WhatsApp, she organises the logistics, registering the beneficiary's name, number, and location, then personally delivers the supplies within Bourj Hammoud and Sin el Fil to the east of Beirut due to their proximity to her residence. She coordinates with a delivery driver for locations further away.
"At the Jeyetna initiative, they work day and night to secure women's needs," says Lynn. "It's not just assistance in providing pads or painkillers, it's psychological support. It gives value and rights to the woman and takes away the shame. Every woman should be proud of being a woman." Period poverty in Lebanon Since 2019, period poverty has been one of the consequences of the country's economic crisis.
The Lebanese lira has lost over 93% of its value due to inflation, directly eroding the purchasing power of women's sanitary pads, according to a study published in PubMed Central.
The study notes that prices of sanitary pads and menstrual products have multiplied by four to ten times compared to pre-crisis levels.
Women have resorted to searching for alternatives, whether by using cheaper, lower-quality products or relying on pieces of cloth.
According to 2025 figures from the National Human Rights Commission in Lebanon, approximately 70% of girls and women in vulnerable communities face difficulty accessing menstrual supplies, pushing them to use unsafe alternatives.
While there is no official 2026 update from the relevant authorities on period poverty amid the current war, the economic indicators remain unchanged. Volunteering: A humanitarian responsibility Amna Nader, 23, another university student also volunteers with Jeyetna. Her duties include communicating with the women, coordinating the initiative's pick-up points, and designing visual materials for fundraising campaigns.
"When we contacted one of the displaced families to hand over sanitary pads, the mother told us it was the first time her daughter had got her period, and it was incredibly difficult for her during the war," recalls Amna.
This was a decisive moment for her.
"We had previously worked on a comic series titled My Story with My First Period , which made me think about how hard it is for a girl to experience her first period under such war conditions."
The volunteer recognises that Jeyetna’s work has a real impact, contrary to attempts by some on social media to portray the initiative as secondary or unnecessary.
"Being a volunteer in an initiative that provides menstrual needs during the war is a responsibility toward women and girls going through harsh, unsafe conditions," she said.
"It's an attempt to lighten a daily burden that can become even worse during displacement.
"My work with Jeyetna reminds me that this kind of support is not a luxury, but a basic need that touches on dignity and health," Amna concluded. Safaa Sallal is a Syrian journalist focusing on humanitarian, social, and developmental issues This article was published in collaboration with Egab