Sometimes all we can offer in an emergency response is a listening ear and a compassionate heart, says Tarek Al Ali of Oxfam in Lebanon, as he reflects on the aftermath of the devastating 2020 Beirut port explosion.
August 4, 2020, at 6:07pm, is a moment forever etched in the memories of those who witnessed one of the largest non-nuclear explosions in recent history. The Beirut port explosion killed many, and left thousands injured and homeless. I count myself among the lucky ones, not being at work or on my way home during that fateful moment. However, the aftermath was a nightmare for countless individuals, including myself, as I embarked on a journey of response and recovery.
A few days after the devastating explosion, I was instructed to suspend all my operations and projects to concentrate on the Beirut blast response. I accepted immediately, not fully grasping the emotional and psychological toll it would have on me.
The first location I visited was a wrecked flat in an old building overlooking the port in the Karantina neighborhood. As I climbed a few stairs and knocked on what remained of a brown wooden door, I entered a scene of devastation. The living room was filled with shattered furniture, and a 50-year-old woman was gently removing family photos from broken frames, dusting them off, and placing them in a bag. She seemed strangely quiet, yet exhausted and confused.
‘I still can’t get the picture of that drained woman out of my head, attempting to retrieve memories from her ruined flat.’
When I greeted her, she immediately began to share her story. Her 90-year-old uncle had died in the explosion, bleeding for hours in front of her without receiving any aid. “I started throwing broken pieces from the window to attract rescue men or anyone passing by the street to help me and my uncle, but in vain,” she told me.
At that moment, I felt paralyzed and unable to ask her any of the assessment questions and could only listen to her and express empathy. Her pain and sorrow were palpable, and I realised that, sometimes, all we can offer is a listening ear and a compassionate heart.
One among so many stories of loss
Throughout the emergency response, I visited many families and businesses in different neighbourhoods of Beirut. I assisted them through the different activities we were carrying out or referred them to other organisations. With each visit, I heard heartbreaking stories of loss – of family members, friends, neighbours, and cherished belongings. Yet that woman’s story left an everlasting impact on me.
Four years after the Beirut port explosion, I still can’t get the picture of that drained woman out of my head, attempting to retrieve memories from her ruined flat. Her story still haunts me in my dreams. She taught me that our work goes beyond providing material assistance. It is about restoring dignity and rebuilding hope. She also made me realize that we do not mourn someone because they died, but because we did not spend enough time with them, hug them, look into their eyes, or tell them how much we loved them.
The Beirut blast serves as a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing every moment with those we hold dear. As I reflect on the past four years, the resilience and strength of the people I met continue to inspire me. Their stories are a testament to the enduring human spirit and the profound connections that bind us together.
In the face of tragedy, we find our greatest strength in each other. The bonds we establish and the compassion we show can transform even the darkest moments. Let us commemorate the memory of those we have lost by living fully, loving deeply, and standing together in the pursuit of justice.
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