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Port of Beirut

Wissam Assouad
A heartfelt eyewitness account of August 4, 2020. Wissam was with his friends in Karantina until an hour before the explosion. Moments later, he rushed back to a scene of utter devastation to see if any of them were still alive.
Myriam Sweidan
As a consequence of the unprecedented currency crisis, Lebanon is falling hungry. And the worst is yet to come …
Ghalia Al Alwani- Syrian Journalist
In the aftermath of a freak event or a natural disaster, it is normal for guilt, pain and fear to be a part of the equation for those who witnessed it, but the absence of reliable formal state institutions to provide urgent support adds to the pile a giant burden on the backs of the youth in the city. The supportive void is so large, in the midst of an also gigantic Pandora’s box of ailments in the country, that the need for their informal manpower becomes incredibly urgent.
Alia Ibrahim- Lebanese writer and journalist
It is only a matter of time. In days, or maybe weeks, the Lebanese state’s failure to subsidize raw materials like fuel, wheat, and medicine will be announced. There won’t be any loud explosions, but it will be another time bomb that will destroy whatever had survived the crime at the port.
Elie Keldani
He picked up a pack of cigarettes to show me what was written on it: “Smoking kills,” he said, “Beirut kills, not smoking.” A little girl approached him, laying her face on his shoulder. He looked at me again and said: “I do not need help, just take the girl and her brother out of the country to live. I don’t want them to die here.”
Marwa Saab
Being a foreigner in Lebanon means you will suffer even after you die. As is the case for Rawan, who was born in Beirut, yet denied the right to be buried there.
Hazem El Amin
Syrian workers who have been, for many years, the target of hatred that amounted to racism by a Lebanese political party, were among the first to participate in removing the rubble.
لتصلكم نشرة درج الى بريدكم الالكتروني