Grazia (UK)

‘Beirut? There is no Beirut now’

An explosion in the Lebanese capital on 4 August tragically brought a country already in crisis to its knees. Anna Silverman reports

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ELIE, 23, WAS ASLEEP at home on 4 August, ahead of his nightshift as a nurse in Beirut, when an explosion ripped through his neighbourh­ood smashing the windows. He quickly got up and rushed to work so he could help, but when he got there, he found ‘there was no hospital’. The Saint George Hospital – 1km from the blast’s epicentre – had been destroyed.

‘There were dead bodies all around and I started to search for my best friend, who was on duty,’ he tells Grazia. ‘She was my friend since kindergart­en, and then we went to the same nursing school together. I saw her on the ground and rushed to help her. She was not responsive – there was blood everywhere. I started CPR and yelled for help. We did everything we could for about an hour and a half but there was no pulse. Her parents arrived and they were devastated. I couldn’t take in the scale of the tragedy.’

The blast rocked the Lebanese capital after 2,750 tonnes of ammonium nitrate exploded in a warehouse in the port. At the time of going to press, at least 135 had been killed and thousands more injured. Much of the port was flattened, sending a mushroom cloud of ash into the sky. Shockwaves shattered windows and caused damage for miles around as the blast raged through the city to the mountains. For every dilapidate­d building, countless lives have been ruined.

The sound of explosions aren’t unfamiliar in Beirut as the city has endured years of car and suicide bombs, but nothing like this. The country is already weak from the pandemic; reeling from an economic crisis; and worn out after decades of government corruption.

‘I am numb,’ says Elie. ‘I can’t feel anything. I’m shocked and traumatise­d. Every time I close my eyes I see the scene in front of me.’ Like many around the city, he says he is now ‘unemployed until further notice’. When I ask him to describe Beirut today – two days on – he simply says: ‘Beirut? There is no Beirut.’

The exact cause of the blast was not immediatel­y known, but appears to have been accidental. The worry now is the fact there are not enough hospital beds and the city’s infrastruc­ture has been destroyed.

But as heartbreak­ing images of death and destructio­n fill newspapers and social media feeds, one video from the aftermath has gone viral for showing a moment of beauty and calm amid the grief. May Abboud Melki, who lives in Beirut, was luckily away the day of the blast, but rushed back the following morning to see what was left of the apartment she has called home for 60 years. Her son and daughter-in-law, Hoda Melki, came with her, as they knew it would be traumatisi­ng: the windows were blown out, there was glass everywhere and the place was completely destroyed. Except for her most treasured possession – the piano she has played since she was a girl.

As they wept and grieved at the sight of their beloved city reduced to rubble, May, 78, sat down at her piano and began to play. As she did so, Hoda filmed her mother-inlaw and uploaded it to social media. ‘The first thing she said was, “The piano is good. I am happy,”’ Hoda, 52, tells Grazia. ‘The piano has always been the place she has let out her emotions. It’s a pivotal part of who she is. It evokes emotions for her of missing her mother, who died long ago.’

It seems apt that she should play when so many are grieving for their own lost relatives. The video soon went viral. May’s piano-playing has become a poignant symbol of love and loss during the tragedy.

 ??  ?? Devastatio­n on the streets of the city
Devastatio­n on the streets of the city
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 ??  ?? May Abboud Melki at her piano, after returning home
May Abboud Melki at her piano, after returning home

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