Lebanese Suffer from Collective Depression, 'Held Prisoner in Own Country'

A man stands next to graffiti at the damaged port area in the aftermath of the massive explosion in Beirut, Lebanon, August 11, 2020. (Reuters)
A man stands next to graffiti at the damaged port area in the aftermath of the massive explosion in Beirut, Lebanon, August 11, 2020. (Reuters)
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Lebanese Suffer from Collective Depression, 'Held Prisoner in Own Country'

A man stands next to graffiti at the damaged port area in the aftermath of the massive explosion in Beirut, Lebanon, August 11, 2020. (Reuters)
A man stands next to graffiti at the damaged port area in the aftermath of the massive explosion in Beirut, Lebanon, August 11, 2020. (Reuters)

The Lebanese people are leading the worst live on earth, concluded a recent Gallup poll.

Only 4 percent of Lebanese people surveyed assessed their life positively enough to consider it “thriving”, it added, making it the worst result in the poll that covered 2018 and 2019.

The results are in no way shocking to any Lebanese citizen, even if they do cover 2019, before the emergence of the novel coronavirus pandemic that upended lives across the globe.

Lebanon’s crises began to emerge shortly before the pandemic, in October 2019 and deepened in 2020 in wake of the virus outbreak and after the August 4 blast at Beirut port.

Given the strains of daily life, it is no surprise that antidepressants are flying off the shelves in Lebanon amid speculation that they will no longer be subsidized. People have therefore, resorted to stocking up on the medication, causing a shortage in the market.

Head of the Pharmacists Syndicate Ghassan al-Amin told Asharq Al-Awsat that there has been a noticeable 20 percent rise in the use of antidepressants in the country since 2015.

The use of antidepressants is understandable, said clinical psychologist Rania al-Boubou.

The Lebanese people “have grown tired of searching for solutions and they have lost all hope of finding them.” Antidepressants are the only way to deal with their stress, she told Asharq Al-Awsat.

“Everyone in Lebanon is living in fear. They are constantly worried and wrapped in dark thoughts,” she added, saying society is suffering from “collective depression.”

Such negative feelings often play out in relationships between the people and in their daily lives, she went on to say. In such cases, she said it was not unusual to witness a rise in domestic violence and crimes sparked by minor incidents, such a traffic dispute. Suicidal thoughts also emerge.

Indeed, the National Commission for Lebanese Women revealed that it has witnessed a 51 percent increase in domestic violence between February and October.

The suicide rate in Lebanon has not increased, but four cases were reported in a space of two days in July.

Al-Boubou spoke of how the Lebanese people have lost their sense of security amid the lack of a safety net that could protect them. Moreover, they feel that they are “prisoners in their own country” due to the travel restrictions imposed by the pandemic.

“Most countries throughout the world will not welcome Lebanese people due to pandemic and political concerns,” she remarked, adding that the hardest part was the citizens’ feeling of being tied down with a ruling authority that threatens every aspect of their life, including their food and health safety.

The people consequently feel that they have been deprived of their freewill and will seek any opportunity for hope even if it were rife with dangers, she said, citing the example of Lebanese people who sought illegal immigration by sea.

The United Nations showed that some 30 boats carrying illegal migrants had departed Lebanon between July and October.

Al-Boubou warned that the persistence of this dire situation in Lebanon “may lead to a rise in psychological problems, surrender or a social explosion, prompted by the sense that the people have nothing left to lose.”



Desperate for Cash, Gazans Sell Clothes Plucked from Rubble

Desperate for Cash, Gazans Sell Clothes Plucked from Rubble
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Desperate for Cash, Gazans Sell Clothes Plucked from Rubble

Desperate for Cash, Gazans Sell Clothes Plucked from Rubble

Moein Abu Odeh clambered up a pile of rubble in southern Gaza, searching for clothes, shoes, anything he could sell to raise cash more than a year since Israel started its relentless bombardments.

The father-of-four delved under blocks and brushed away piles of concrete dust at the site of one airstrike in the wrecked city of Khan Younis. His plan was to sell what he found to buy flour.

"If food and drink were available, believe me, I would give (these clothes) to charity," he said. "But the struggles we are going through (mean we) have to sell our clothes to eat and drink."

Widespread shortages and months of grinding war have generated a trade in old clothing, much of it salvaged from the homes of people who have died in the conflict.

At one makeshift market, shoes, shirts, sweaters and sneakers were laid out on dusty blankets, Reuters reported.

A girl tried on a single worn-out boot, which could come in handy this winter if she can afford it in Gaza's ruined economy.

A trader got an edge on his competitors by shouting out that his wares were European.

One man laughed as he got a young boy to try on a green jacket.

"We get clothing from a man whose house was destroyed. He was digging in the concrete to get some (clothing) and we buy them like this and sell them at a good price," displaced Palestinian Louay Abdel-Rahman said.

He and his family arrived in the city from another part of Gaza with only the clothes they were wearing. So he also keeps some back for them. "The seasons have changed from summer to winter and we need clothing," he said.

In April, the UN estimated it would take 14 years to dispose of the wreckage in Gaza. The UN official overseeing the problem said the clean-up would cost at least $1.2 billion.

More than 128,000 buildings have been destroyed or severely or moderately damaged in Gaza as a result of the conflict, the UN says. Underneath all of that are seams of mangled clothes.

"All our children only have short-sleeve clothing and nobody is helping them," Saeed Doula, a father-of-seven, said. "The war is all-encompassing."