The last several years have become increasingly difficult for anyone connected to the Lebanese struggle. The recent major setbacks have damaged the lives of people living in Lebanon and have shattered the country’s splendour. Being Lebanese means being homesick for a place resting in the past. Being Lebanese means longing for a home but never being able to go back.
As a Lebanese and Luxembourgish national, a person who grew up in Lebanon and somebody who has witnessed the heart-breaking rapid decay of a country that she still loves, writing an article about the Lebanese situation is not a simple task. It is a decision to share the truth, to shed light on circumstances that are unacceptable, and to decide to speak up against the normalisation of suffering in the Middle East. It is also an emotional journey, writing every sentence is a process where emotions appear in different waves of intensity. But, at the end of the day, the anger, the hope and the will to not accept the unacceptable is the core drive for this article. Therefore, since the political is always personal, this article might not be objective, but it is definitely extremely political and excruciatingly personal.
People have lost their money, their lives, their comfort, and their sanity. I have only seen glimpses of the despair that comes with residing in Lebanon yet the experiences I have witnessed will always stay ingrained in me. The sadness to see a place that you love with such a passion for life, slowly watch its lights be dimmed down because of the selfishness of money-hungry politicians will always make me angry and sad. I have seen so many forms of pain, I wouldn’t even know where to start.
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