Beirut is buzzing with activity as volunteers scramble to aid the tens of thousands displaced by Israel's intense bombardment of Lebanon this week.
Despite an economic crisis that has gripped the country for years, people in the capital are stepping up, finding shelter, cooking meals and gathering essentials.
In a cramped soup kitchen, dozens of volunteers wearing aprons and hairnets stir steaming pots of tomato bulgur and pack hundreds of meals into plastic containers.
"When people began fleeing the south, I had to help in any way possible," said Mehyeddine el Jawhary, a 33-year-old chef originally from Sidon.
"The first thing that crossed my mind was to cook meals," said Jawhary, whose parents refused to leave the southern city despite nearby air strikes.
This week Israel dramatically intensified its attacks, mostly on south Beirut and southern and eastern Lebanese areas, killing more than 700 people, according to the health ministry.
'Help each other'
The International Organization for Migration estimates that around 118,000 people have been displaced by the flare-up in just the past week.
Schools turned makeshift shelters are overflowing, and those who can afford it are renting apartments or staying with family.
"Now's not the time to say, 'It's not my problem'," said Jawhary. "The state is unable to help us, so we have to help each other."
His cooking crew delivered 1,800 meals in a single day, part of a grassroots network of community kitchens feeding those in need since the onset of the economic collapse in 2019.
Lebanon's government, strapped for cash, is offering little assistance, forcing communities to organise their own aid.
Social media is flooded with people offering free apartments or running donation drives for food and essentials.
Engineer Ziad Abichaker has raised enough money for 600 mattresses and blankets and is pushing to reach 1,000.
Helping was a "moral duty", he told AFP.
'We could all become displaced'
In Beirut's Badaro district, a group of mothers collects clothes, blankets and baby formula at Teatrino, a pre-school turned donation hub.
Sorting through piles of clothes inside the facility, paediatric dentist Mayssa Blaibel said she had stopped working at her clinic this week to become a full-time volunteer.
"It's not easy because demand is very high. We're just ordinary people trying to help, but it seems the crisis will last," said the 36-year-old.
"Because I have children, I feel it's my duty to do something. We cannot expect our society to be good if we're not giving a good example ourselves."
More than 20 kilometres (12 miles) away, in the lush Shouf mountains, Hala Zeidan has been sharing her home free of charge since Monday with a displaced family of three.
"This is our homeland and these are people who were displaced from their villages," said the 61-year-old teacher living in the Druze town of Baakline.
"We could all become displaced... we should be compassionate and work hand in hand."
