For more than a year, a quiet transformation has been taking place among young people in South Lebanon, far from the headlines and far from the spotlight. These are young men and women who have grown up in communities shaped by conflict, displacement and uncertainty, where the flow of information can be as dangerous as any physical threat. Through a UNESCO Youth Empowerment Project funded by UNIFIL, more than 300 young people from villages and towns across the region began a journey to understand the media landscape around them, to question what they see online, and to find their own voices in a world that often seems flooded with noise. They learned how to fact-check, how to think critically, how to speak publicly, how to communicate across digital platforms, how to protect themselves online, and how to use artificial intelligence with care and responsibility. From that larger group, 83 were selected to go further, to become trainers themselves, equipped not only with skills but with a mission to pass those skills on to others. But no one could have guessed how deeply that mission would be tested before it truly began.
The night before the final stage of the training, something happened that almost derailed everything. The young participants had packed their bags for three days of learning: clothes, personal belongings, notebooks, perhaps a phone charger, all the essentials for a short stay away from home. But before they could leave, many of them had to pack again. This time, the packing was for evacuation. The crisis that had been simmering in the region had arrived at their doorsteps, forcing them to make impossible choices between safety and commitment, between staying close to family and showing up for something they believed in. For some, the journey to the training became part of the challenge itself, a long and uncertain road through a landscape of fear. Yet they came. They chose to show up. They chose to be present, not because it was easy, but because they understood that what they were about to learn mattered more than ever in a moment when false information and hate speech were not abstract problems, but forces that could upend lives in a single evening. Many of them had already felt the consequences of misinformation in their own homes and neighbourhoods. They had seen how a single unverified message could send an entire city into panic, how a rumour could spread faster than the truth, and how careless words could deepen wounds in communities already struggling to hold themselves together. So when the training finally began, it was not just another workshop. It was an answer to something they had lived through.
The stories of the participants reveal just how personal this work has become. Fatima Awali still remembers the night when false information caused the whole city to evacuate. She remembers the fear, the confusion, the chaos, and the realization that a lie, repeated enough times, could move hundreds of people. That experience stayed with her, and it became part of the reason she walked into the training room. “One night, false information made the whole city evacuate,” she said. “Today, I’m here to turn this false information into awareness, and to help people know how to distinguish between what is true and what is not.” For Fatima, fact-checking is not a technical exercise. It is a form of protection, a way of caring for the people around her, a responsibility she now carries with her every time she opens her phone. Ali, another participant, saw the same problem in his own community, where fake news spreads quickly through local networks and trusted channels. As someone already involved in a local association, he could see the damage being done. But instead of feeling helpless, he began to share what he was learning even while the training was still ongoing. He brought the lessons back to his neighbours, his friends, his community, and slowly, he started to notice a shift. People were pausing. They were asking questions. They were no longer accepting everything they saw as truth. For Ali, that small change was proof that the work was possible, and it strengthened his belief that young people need more opportunities to build these skills and to become sources of reliable information in their own communities.
For other participants, the training touched on something even more personal. Intissar has witnessed how online violence, cyberbullying and digital blackmail can target women and girls with devastating consequences. She spoke about the way a single rumour, a manipulated image, or a misleading message can push someone into a spiral of fear and shame, sometimes to the point where they consider ending their own lives. That reality is not distant for her. It is happening in the communities she knows, on the platforms young people use every day. The training changed the way she responds to information. It taught her to stop before sharing, to verify before believing, and to understand that publishing a piece of news carries weight. But it also gave her something more: the confidence to speak in front of a camera, to craft messages that are both safe and responsible, and to understand that her voice, when used carefully, can be a tool for healing rather than harm. Her message to other young people is simple and urgent: take part in this training, learn how to use social media safely, and recognize that what we share has consequences. Zeinab, a student graduating in journalism and digital media, found that the skills she learned connected directly to her studies and her everyday life. She saw how easily her own mother could be deceived by an old post or a recycled threat on TikTok, believing it to be new and dangerous. Instead of dismissing it, Zeinab would check it herself, trace it back to its source, and gently show her mother that the information was not true, or that it had been published long ago. For Zeinab, change begins in these small moments, with one person questioning what they see and then sharing that habit with others. Her ambition is not limited to her own family. She dreams of reaching her local community, then the wider community, then Lebanon, then the world.
What made the training special, though, was not only the skills. It was the sense of connection that grew between the participants as they realized they were not alone. Roaa, one of the young women in the programme, described how the experience helped her express her views in a clear, objective and evidence-based way. She learned that she could stand in front of others and say, with confidence, “This news is false,” not because she felt it, but because she could prove it. The training also opened her eyes to the power and limits of artificial intelligence. She learned that AI can be an incredible tool for creating digital content, but that there are moments when it should not be used, moments when human judgment, human ethics and human responsibility must come first. “We remain the foundation,” she said, and that insight captures something essential about the entire programme. For Roaa, the opportunity to meet trainers, project leaders and other participants who shared the same goals was just as valuable as the lessons themselves. What began as a group of strangers slowly became a network, a community of young fact-checkers and critical thinkers who understood that information carries responsibility, and that they each had a role to play in how it is created, shared and understood. They learned from one another, exchanged experiences, and discovered that their struggles, fears and hopes were remarkably similar. In a region often divided by politics and conflict, this shared sense of purpose was its own kind of victory.
Now, the training is moving beyond the room and into the world. The youth are taking what they have learned back to their communities, not as passive recipients but as active multipliers. They are developing their own initiatives, organizing awareness activities, and leading training sessions for other young people who may never have had the chance to learn these skills directly. Some are focusing on fact-checking and critical thinking, helping their peers navigate the endless stream of information on social media. Others are turning their attention to cybersecurity, teaching people how to protect themselves from online threats and manipulation. Still others are working to combat hate speech, to promote responsible digital communication, and to help young people understand the power they hold in their hands every time they post, share or comment. The goal is not simply to create informed individuals. It is to multiply knowledge, to create a ripple effect that reaches wider and wider circles, to build a generation that refuses to be manipulated. These young people could have stayed home. They could have let fear and uncertainty keep them away. Instead, they chose to learn. They chose to question. They chose to verify. They chose to use their voices, not to spread anger, but to spread awareness. The suitcases they carried to the training may have been packed for only a few days, but they returned carrying something far more durable: knowledge, confidence and a shared responsibility to the people around them. Their training is not the end of the journey. It is only the beginning. And the story they are writing, through their actions, through their courage, through their commitment to the truth, is still unfolding.