If you ask me what happened on the fourth of August, I would definitely tell you: “It’s the day my life stopped, the day my country burned down to ashes.” It was just another normal summer day in Lebanon. People were surviving as usual, when suddenly, their whole lives turned around. At exactly 6:07pm, our beloved capital was shaken by a terrible explosion at the port. It was precisely 6:07pm when chaos took over the city. People panicked, blood covered the streets, children screamed, parents were terrified, homes were demolished, and the city of Beirut went down to shambles in just a few seconds. Our hearts were crushed and we were very upset.
Sitting at home, watching the news, while seeing the misery of the people and the massive amounts of destruction was not an option. We didn’t know what to do but we knew that we had to do something. Hence, a very spontaneous initiative got into action. It started with a small group of people who carried their brooms, dustpans, cloth bags and started roaming around in the streets of Gemmayze and Mar Mikhayel helping out as many people as possible. From cleaning broken glass to carrying shattered furniture, the streets were clean in just a few days, and it was time for us to go further, to help further, and to make a bigger difference. That was when our spontaneous initiative changed into a very advanced and professional “Disaster Relief Program”.
Within just a few hours, a whole new relief plan got into action. Our small group of volunteers started to get bigger by the day, walking around the broken streets of Geitaoui to start with the first step of our process: conducting the assessment. One week later, we had a database that included 135 families that needed our help on either a social, psychological, or damage-repair levels. Obviously, every aspect was consequently targeted in an extensive way. For some families, food boxes were distributed; for others, drinking a cup of coffee with the family members was enough. For some, hearing them out brightened their day, and for others, asking them how they were doing restored hope.
A few days later, another group of volunteers spread around the area and distributed white roses for the victims of the blast. Even if it was just a small act of kindness, this white rose served as a symbol of peace, hope, and courage; it was a little reminder that there is a light at the end of tunnel, no matter how long and dark it is. In parallel to that, out of these 135 houses, 70 of them need refurbishment and so we are proceeding with a more advanced evaluation to assess the degree of the damage, with the help of experts and contractors. Our strategy includes assessment, evaluation, estimation, and finally, refurbishment and renovation.
We are currently in the third step of our process and with the help of the Lebanese Association of the Order of Malta we are aiming on fixing windows and doors for as many houses as possible. People lost their sense of security in the place they thought was the safest: their homes. So even if it’s a single window, or even if it’s just one door, giving these people their safe place back is our target, and giving them back their smiles is our goal.
Actually, now that I think about it, August 4th was not when my life stopped, it was when it started again, it was when my hope in this country and its youth grew, it was when I understood that making a difference comes from the tiniest things, and it was when I contributed in helping my country and its people rise from the ashes.
Nayla Moukarzel, Lebanese volunteer
