“We Do Not Know When This Will End or if It Will End, or if We Will Survive This”
On the morning of 23 September, as I woke up for work, my mom messaged me from Baalbeck, Lebanon, that our village was being air-struck by Israel for the first time since 5 am.

We went to work, and I stayed on the phone checking on my parents and brother. Around noon, the IDF (ed. Israel Defense Forces) spokesperson informed the people residing in Baalbeck – El Hermel governorate to flee immediately since the Israeli air force would be hitting many targets in a red area extending through Bekaa, as per a map they demonstrated, including my village. I started frantically crying in the office and calling my family every 30 minutes.
The airstrikes started in the afternoon, and my father informed me that they could not leave due to fear of being struck on the road or facing destroyed main roads and highways connected to Beirut and being stuck there. My mom continued updating me when they heard the sound of military aircraft and when they saw the fumes from the strikes surrounding the village getting closer to the house.
I reside on the border of the Southern suburb of Beirut, so I left the house with my sister and stayed at my friend’s house in central Beirut. The hours passed in the afternoon, and everyone in Lebanon was facing a nightmare. People in South Lebanon fled with roads jammed with people running for their lives, surrounded by Israeli air strikes and cars barely moving, with no food and water. There were countless people we had to check on in Bekaa and South Lebanon.
At around 10:30 PM of the same day, my mom messaged me that they had struck an area 300 meters from the house; I had a breakdown and told my parents to flee to a Christian area around 15 minutes by car and stay in the school until the next day, I did not want my family to die. My family managed to flee to the school and arrived at around midnight, crossing roads filled with rubble and darkness. I started contacting my colleagues who would know someone in that area to aid my family so they could get shelter in the school since most displaced people in West Baalback had to resort to that area. My parents were safe there and managed to come to Beirut the next day.
On Friday, 27 September, the clashes were more focused on the south and Bekaa governorate until after 6 pm. I was home with my family, and suddenly, the most insane earthshaking strikes started showering for around 15 seconds, nonstop, everyone screaming and assuming it was the neighboring area due to the intensity of the sound. Everyone on the streets was panicking and screaming, and we could not comprehend the magnitude of the strikes. As news spread, I learned that the strikes hit an entire building block near my aunt’s house, who thankfully was not there. Her house, however, was destroyed. We assumed at first it was a nuclear hit… The hit was 5 km from my house.
I also have a mentally unstable brother who suffered a lot of trauma and was out of control out of fear when this happened, which was also something I had to control and endure amid all this chaos and disaster.
On the same night after the news hit Lebanon, at around 11 pm, the IDF released another map for the Southern suburb of Beirut, claiming they had targets that would be struck imminently in several points, and people had to leave. People started manically driving and fleeing their homes, on foot or by car, stuck in a jam, unaware of when their homes might be struck.
The people we know are stranded on the streets with nowhere to go, and the streets we have memories of, will be turned to ashes. As we anticipated the strikes, we wondered: “When?” Will the sound be very scary? When will the strikes be finished? It is honestly one of the most miserable experiences to go through. As the hours passed, the airstrikes would not stop from aircraft and military ships in the sea, hitting areas on the map they showed and very far from any area that was warned till around 7 am. The horror of the sound and the fear of asking about the whereabouts of people you know made this just another sleepless night filled with dread and anxiety.
The next day, I heard rockets launching and a deep hit sound. The strike was around 400 meters from our house. As colleagues and loved ones contacted us, I informed them we were safe, but I had nowhere to take my family to. I started searching for a house to rent, and prices were through the roof, as greedy landlords took advantage of this national disaster to gain more profit.
I slept with my family for two nights at my friend’s house in central Beirut (where also air strikes can be heard loudly), but at least it was not an impacted zone. I was fearing the unknown: where do we go next? Our house in Beirut and in Baalback, our memories could all be tarnished. All the trauma and anxiety we are going through, and absolute uncertainty made it very difficult to develop a contingency plan. After two days of being displaced at a friend’s house, I managed to find a house in the North for my family and me.
We do not know when this will end or if it will end, or if we will survive this, but I know that last week was the most agonizing and horrifying week of my life… This is the first time I feel terror and uncertainty, with events escalating from bad to worse by the minute, bearing our families’ responsibility.
Imagine fearing going in the shower because you do not want to be naked when you have to evacuate the house. I could not shower for days, with a suitcase next to my bed as I tried to sleep at night.
Every day, I cry. I cry the people being killed, the streets and villages and shops being demolished by air strikes. Places and people we didn’t know how much they matter to us, and a feeling of home that is now forever missing.
L.