Zizi Estephan – Nidaa Al Watan
What if the hands of time did not stop at six and seven minutes, what if the clock of the universe stopped that day and went back instead of moving forward? In simpler terms, what if Hassan Diab went to the port on that day and opened the doors of Ward No. 12, or what if one of the officials, any of them, responded to the correspondence and issued orders to transport the nitrates from the port… The victims would have returned to their families and families safely, leaving life to carry them to wherever it wants. Or they like.
If time completed its course, where would Elias Khoury be today, or Charbel, Najib Hitti, Charbel Karam, Sahar Fares, Ali Mishek and Nicole Helou? And where were Isaac and Alexandra playing today? How did Ayman, Ahmed, Jessica, Gaya, Crystal, Malak, Mustafa, Nizar and all the rest pass their days? What would their lives and the lives of their loved ones have been like in these two years? A painful question that stubbornly stubbornly challenges fate and leaves his battle with him broken, but leaves the victims’ families to live with them in imagination, even for a few minutes, talking regarding their loved ones and drawing for them in their minds the most beautiful tomorrow.
Shared dream
Najeeb Hitti, Charbel Hitti and Charbel Karam the three sons of Cordoba and the heroes of the fire brigade who are linked by blood, dreams and common aspirations. They left, leaving behind dreams that did not bloom and projects that are still in their infancy. The world would not have accommodated them, each of them was looking at his future with confidence and yearning for it to fulfill the wishes that are dearest to his heart. Charbel Karam left, leaving Carlin and his two children, he erased his tomorrow at that moment that if it stopped, he would be the father of a larger family today, as Carlin says. his life? “We didn’t want our lives to change, we were as happy as we are and convinced. I wish she hadn’t changed and the young men hadn’t left. Carlene says with a tear, “Would he have advanced a rank and responsibility in the firefighting? “This is not what he was interested in. His concern was to save people. He was pleased with his work, and today he would have been in the same rush to plunge himself into the fire to save others.”
Najeeb, even the youngest of the house who loves his village, would definitely build him a house in the village where he loves to live and build a family. Early on, the explosion reaped his dreams. It did not leave him time to love and marry, nor did it leave him room to enlarge his interests as he had planned.” He is the one who works in the bulldozers and communal sector, in addition to the firefighting sector, says his sister Carlin. Off Road Sport. Perhaps it was with Charbel, his cousin, and Charbel, his brother-in-law, that they achieved the project they were always talking regarding, which is to establish a tourism project on a plot of land in Cordoba and to put tents and caravans in it to be a destination for the holidays, as he dreamed, especially Charbel, who started with his father to lay the foundations for this project, but the echo of the explosion was cut off. It’s way in its infancy. If the echo were silent, Charbel would have received the first customers of his project this summer and set off on off-road trips in the modified off-road car that he was working on. The people of their village and its youth.
If time had stopped, Sahar Fares would have been a bride living under one roof with Gilbert Al-Quran, the preacher who loves her and loves every moment they spent together. Perhaps they would have had their first child and they would be the happiest couple, as Gilbert confirms, who did not forget for a moment two years ago the girl who was snatched away by the treachery of the explosion in a moment. The ambitious young woman was not satisfied with her family success, but was also to realize her dream of career advancement and reach higher ranks. “Sahar was always hesitating. I will make people talk regarding me and they will salute me, even you will salute me…” Gilbert says heartily. “They saluted her differently than she wanted. As if she knew what awaited her. I was laughing and telling her, “I am higher than you, but I am honored that you are ahead of me.”
Sahar may have changed her car today and relived with her sister Maria and her friends the news of the honeymoon she spent with Gilbert, and perhaps she would have set priorities for the many dreams that she wanted to achieve step by step.
Sweet Nicole is a sweet, jovial, life-loving boy whose mother, according to everyone who knew her, is still unable to talk regarding her or accept the idea of her leaving. She is “Ghanouja al-Bait” between her two sisters and his cousin, Farah, says her cousin. She is an ambitious girl who works in a bank and aspires to advance in her job. She loves to travel with friends and spend the weekend at the manor. What was Nicole up to this summer? Which country was she to visit on her vacation? Perhaps she is to be in love, dreams of her own wedding, or she is engaged, and paints for her tomorrow the picture of a happy, contented family…
Ali Meshik, whose dreams and ambitions were destroyed by the crisis, before the explosion took his life, was racing once morest time to secure a livelihood for his children. On his way home, the employer called him, and he hurried to the port for a few extra hours, perhaps to buy him and his family some summer fruits, a toy for his children, or holiday homework books for them. Had he not met the call for a living, Ali would today, with his family, stand by the side of Zainab, his wife and three children. “Despite the difficult and harsh financial conditions we are going through, Zainab says that his presence among us would have been hidden from us. Perhaps he would run twice as much as he did before, but he would be there to support his children and make them feel safe. How much he would be happy and proud of the success of his eldest son with a privet certificate, and buy him a gift or throw a party for him and not leave him alone as he is today…».
Joe Noon, one of the heroes of the fire brigade, 27 years old, was the home decorator with his constant laughter and love for life. In a hurry, he would have finished his house and got married, as his father, Tony Noun, tells. His salary was not enough for him, he loves life, money and the company of friends. If time had completed its course that day, Beit Jaw would have been nearing its end today, and how happy he would have been there in the village of Mishmish al-Jabiliyah. Perhaps he and his brother William would help their parents in the restaurant and sneak out on weekends fishing with his buddies. Laughter, conversations and projects filled the house of Noun, as they always did, instead of the silence that nestled inside the walls of the house.
Elias Khoury, the quiet teenager, always smiling, with a bright mind with intelligence, talent, and ambition, was cut short at the beginning of the road. Fate or treachery and neglect did not allow him to put his foot on the first track. He threw a thick mist on his way, so Elias staggered for two weeks between life and death, and the fog then enveloped him and robbed him of his future and his life. Elias, a lover of rap music, beat his songs to the hearts of all his fans and did not wait to be happy with them. How great his joy would be if he knew that one of his songs had reached the Anghami app and how much he and his bandmates would strive to produce more rap songs. But talent and passion would not distract him from studying. Elias would have graduated this summer with his schoolmates “Jesus and Mary” and celebrated with them the end of the school years and the start of the university journey, and he would have chosen a companion for himself to enter the party together with the most beautiful look. And how much his mother Mireille and his father were to rejoice in him and shower him with pictures on this special day. Who knows if Elias will follow in his father’s footsteps and choose interior engineering and fine arts as a university major, or change his mind at the last moment and go to a sudden major?
two angels
Isaac and Alexandra, the two little angels who sowed joy, laughter and love in their families’ home, were so short their walk on earth, forcibly gone when the explosion blew up the two houses. Two young children each thought they were safe in the family’s arms inside the walls of the house, but the angels of death were hovering around those walls. Two years and three months old, Isaac was having his last dinner with his Australian parents in the Sarasaka neighborhood. A flying piece of glass hit his chest, causing severe bleeding, following which he did not last long in the hospital, and he died. Isaac was a smart, full of life child playing in the garden of Sursock Palace, playing with the kittens there, and saying his first words. His mother, Sarah, was very happy that her son had the opportunity to learn three languages in Lebanon and the opportunity to play abroad, and the pregnant woman was preparing him to receive the next child … If the family might leave as scheduled in late August, Isaac would have carried with him to Australia his Arabic words that he had memorized here and some French words He might have insisted on returning to Sursock Park to pull his sister’s cart and play with the kitten he left here… and to complete his life’s journey full of love and surprises.
Alexandra had not yet completed her four years when the explosion threw her under the rubble of the house. She knew regarding Lebanon only the arenas of its revolution, in which she found a playground. Her life was like the revolution aborted in its infancy, it did not bloom in the future and dreams, just as the revolution did not bloom as a homeland. Alexandra would have been five-and-a-half years old today, playing with her friends in the public school and getting ready to re-enter class. She might ask her father why we didn’t go to the yard and carry the flag anymore? Where did all the people go? And when do we go once more?
224 names, faces, and lives were absent from the life records, and with them were their stories whose ink dried up in the middle or beginning of events. We knew it had one end, but every story would have had a different end (or beginning) only if… Had death deafened its ears or the officials opened their ears and conscience…
