Residents of Beirut Suburbs Traumatized by Israeli Strikes

Smoke rises from an Israeli airstrike in the southern suburbs of Beirut, Lebanon, on Saturday. Photograph: Hussein Malla/AP
Smoke rises from an Israeli airstrike in the southern suburbs of Beirut, Lebanon, on Saturday. Photograph: Hussein Malla/AP
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Residents of Beirut Suburbs Traumatized by Israeli Strikes

Smoke rises from an Israeli airstrike in the southern suburbs of Beirut, Lebanon, on Saturday. Photograph: Hussein Malla/AP
Smoke rises from an Israeli airstrike in the southern suburbs of Beirut, Lebanon, on Saturday. Photograph: Hussein Malla/AP

When Israel began pounding the southern Beirut suburb of Dahiyeh in airstrikes that killed Lebanon's Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah, the blasts were so powerful that a pregnant woman feared her baby could not withstand the force.

"I'm 8 months pregnant. The baby wasn't even moving in my stomach and I was so scared that something happened, God forbid. But finally I felt it," said Zahraa.

"God, the missiles we saw yesterday, the fires we saw. We could hear every single strike. We haven't even slept a wink. There's people sleeping in the streets or sleeping in their cars all around us."

Like other residents of Dahiyeh, the family -- Zahraa, her husband and two sons, aged 17 and 10 - quickly packed what they could and fled for other parts of the capital Beirut. The city shook with each explosion, Reuters reported.

Many of the schools used as shelters in the capital were already full with the tens of thousands of people who had fled southern Lebanon in recent days. Those newly displaced overnight said they had nowhere to go.

Hezbollah confirmed that Nasrallah was killed and vowed to continue the battle against Israel.

Nasrallah's death marks a heavy blow to Hezbollah.

It also brings more uncertainty to the inhabitants of Dahiyeh and those who have left for shelter in downtown Beirut and other parts of the city, after an escalation of the nearly one-year-old war between Israel and Iran-backed Hezbollah.

Ali Hussein Alaadin, a 28-year-old Dahiyeh resident, seemed lost after some of the heaviest Israeli bombardment of Beirut in decades. He barely had enough time to grab his father's medicine. One of the strikes hit a building just beside them.

"I don't even know where we are. We've been going around in circles all night. We've been calling NGOs and other people since the morning," he said, adding that aid groups would make constantly changing recommendations about where to seek refuge.

"We called everyone and they keep sending us around, either the number is off or busy or they would send us somewhere. Since 1:00 a.m. we've been in the streets."

Dalal Daher, who slept out in the open in Martyrs Square in downtown Beirut, said Lebanese lives were considered cheap as Israel carries out relentless strikes.

"If a paper plane flew over to Israel, it will cause endless turmoil. But for us, everyone is displaced and the whole world is silent about it, the United Nations and everyone is silent, as if we are not human beings," she said.



In Beirut, Volunteers Race to Help War Displaced

People in Beirut are stepping up to help tens of thousands of Lebanese displaced by Israel's aerial bombardment © Anwar AMRO / AFP
People in Beirut are stepping up to help tens of thousands of Lebanese displaced by Israel's aerial bombardment © Anwar AMRO / AFP
TT

In Beirut, Volunteers Race to Help War Displaced

People in Beirut are stepping up to help tens of thousands of Lebanese displaced by Israel's aerial bombardment © Anwar AMRO / AFP
People in Beirut are stepping up to help tens of thousands of Lebanese displaced by Israel's aerial bombardment © Anwar AMRO / AFP

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."