A year on from the Beirut blast that killed 207 people, Josephine reflects on the crisis her baby boy has been born into
One year ago, in the wake of the August 2020 Beirut blast, I was asked to share my thoughts as an expectant mother
witnessing and living through a national trauma. Twelve months on, this trauma feels never-ending; it turns out the
explosion was only the start of more suffering for the people and children of Lebanon. Here’s some of what I wrote on
the night of August 4, 2020:
"I am a soon-to-be mum, 39 weeks pregnant and eagerly awaiting the arrival of my baby boy. An expectant mother’s worries
in 2020 are more complex than expectant mothers in previous years. Add to that, living in the Middle East, specifically
in Lebanon. Bathing a newborn, nurturing him, maintaining a work-life balance in the coming years and everything that
comes with childcare were matters that I wished were the only worries on my mind. In Lebanon, we are having a rapid
increase in COVID-19 numbers to a point the news was: ‘the fear of hospitals soon becoming stretched’.
“Seeing my family and friends calling and checking on each other brought back so many awful memories that we managed to
put behind us from the period of explosions and assassinations from a decade ago. As the media coverage started and
things became clearer, I understood the level of destruction. It was not easy to grasp. Every Lebanese household knows a
person affected – a missing person, injured, dead, a home destroyed, a business, belongings. It felt like the end of
life as all Lebanese people know it. I believe it is – life before the Beirut blast is not the same as after it.
Lebanese people manage to overcome all setbacks and all misfortunes, from civil war to the constant instability, but not
this. Not this emotional damage.
“Watching hospitals in Beirut destroyed, the images of nurses running around carrying newborn babies, frightened and
confused mothers who just gave birth – all this got me thinking about my child. What awaits him? The greatest worry for
every mother is the protection of her children, their well-being, their future. At this time, all I am able to think is:
will children in Lebanon even have a future? Will my son be safe and protected?? Will he ever experience the change that
all children here deserve?”
At the time I wrote this, I did not yet know that many mothers had lost their children – some as young as two. One year
on, these mothers’ hearts are still just as broken, and their lives have so utterly changed. One year on, a massive
explosion is not the greatest threat to Lebanon’s children. The situation in Lebanon got a thousand times worse on all
levels: politically, economically, socially – everything. Thousands of mothers in Lebanon worry about their children
more today than they have in recent memory. While we remember the disaster of August 4, Lebanese children today are the
victims of an economic collapse that evolved into a humanitarian crisis. Children in Lebanon are currently at risk of
food insecurity, increased child labour and early marriage, and of dropping out of school, all as a result of this other
man-made disaster.
As World Vision wraps up our programming response to the explosion, I am proud of our organisation’s success in meeting
the needs of children and their families. We rehabilitated over 600 houses, schools and common spaces, provided
distressed children with psychosocial support, helped 40 microbusinesses start over, and provided cash assistance and
food parcels to affected and vulnerable families. We reached half of the hundreds of thousands of people affected by the
blast with help over the past year. We managed that because of the generosity of people in Lebanon and around the world
who united in support of the victims and survivors of the blast.
That generosity and support gives us hope – hope that we need right now because those who have endured the distress of
the explosion and are now suffering from lack of food, vaccines, medication and basic necessities. And as the crisis
continues without any obvious solutions on the horizon, our children’s futures, protection and well-being will keep
depending on the generous hearts around the globe.
My one-year-old son is called Nathan, Gift of God. All children are a gift of God. My request is for people to pray for
the vulnerable children in Lebanon, to speak up for them and to give generously when there is a call to give. Such are
the gifts the world can give. I am thankful that Nathan, and all children in Lebanon, can count on these gifts for their
future.
Josephine is communications manager with World Vision Lebanon