Malaysia is one of the destinations for Palestinian refugees in search of protection from the carnage of war.

This new 'home' is their choice as refuge from the torrents of bombs and bloodshed.

But far from their hometowns, nightmares still haunt them.

One refugee, who only wants to be known as Abu Bakar, 15, always covers his ears with his hands and runs to the sides whenever he is near a busy road.

Although he has been in Malaysia for two years, the teenager still cannot forget the deafening sounds of war in his birthplace.

Abu Bakar is a member of 60 Palestinian families registered as refugees with the United Nations, who are seeking temporary refuge in Malaysia.

They enter Malaysia using a United Nations High Commissioner Refugees (UNHCR) cards while they seek permanent refuge in other countries.

'Working illegally'

This is because despite Malaysia’s outpouring of goodwill for the Palestinian cause, Abu Bakar and the other families cannot stay here for good.

Malaysia does not recognise refugees, and this has caused never-ending hardships for them.

With little financial resources, the refugees are forced to live in cramp apartments to share out rental costs and peddle goods like fake goods in places like Bukit Bintang.

Others manage to gain employment at Arabic restaurants in Kuala Lumpur, albeit illegally given their lack of documentation.

Besides renting apartments, some also seek protection in unmarked shelters – locations kept hidden to avert harassment – run by NGO Sahabat Support Centre (SSC).

The shelter in Malaysia’s capital puts a roof above the heads of Middle Eastern refugees, who are mostly from Palestine.

Located above a restaurant, the shelter has five small rooms which house up to 70 people at any given time.

Unbearable longing for home

Three of those rooms are used as classrooms and daycare for children up to the age of 17.

Another is used for sewing classes for women, as well as a clinic.

The teaching staff are professionals from Palestine, mostly also refugees.

Their sadness is not reflected in their faces as they gather and chat, without fear.

But the fear continues to haunt them as step outside the shelter.

Homesickness is etched on the faces of the Palestinan children, when they speak of their the lives they left behind.

It is evident even when they speak of their homes being bombed by Israeli forces.

As they travel further away from their homeland, the longing for home grips stronger.