The total disassociation that Lebanon has isn’t just sad, it’s tragic.
It’s almost midnight. I’m getting ready to sleep in a comfortable bed, in a place I call home. The only thing troubling my ears is a song I probably shouldn’t be listening to.
A few minutes away from me, Lebanese party goers are busy pretending Thursday is the new Friday. Some students are overnighting for an exam they have in a few days. For others the night is still young and they’re out to get lucky.
And, for some people, tonight is a night where they don’t get to sleep in their beds. It’s a night where they are forced out of their homes to live on the stairs of some random building because it’s the location that shelters them the most from sniper riffles and missiles that are falling over their heads.
I don’t care if you think I’m talking about Tripoli often here. What’s happening in that city makes me sick as a person and it makes me disgusted as a Lebanese.
Our filthy politicians run these fights and sleep soundly at night. People like you and I, on the other hand, are forced to cower in the corners of their homes to take shelter from bullets, from explosions, from sounds that shake the concrete housing them. Ma fi gheir l m3attar ekela.
Tripoli should be a Lebanese national priority. The bus full of school children that was shot yesterday should be a national priority. These people who are living on some stairs and can’t go back home should be a national priority. And a meaningless security plan just doesn’t work anymore!
We’re too busy fan-girling over a useless ranking instead.