Lebanon
I only knew you, Lebanon, through what was written about you in the Torah, in poetry, and in the voices of singers. In books and art, I met you as the Lebanon of love and beauty. But in my reality, I only came to know you through calamities, tribulations, and endless struggles. In my Lebanon, there is no room for self-realization or the courage to dream. We live here waiting for the hour of our death or bracing for the next catastrophe. Lebanon feels like an unending cesarean birth, a nation caught between external ambitions exploiting it and internal battles over power and spoils, with no regard for the country or its people. And the people, sadly, are not innocent. They share the blame. It’s 2024, yet I still see hands throwing cigarette butts and garbage onto the streets from car windows. The people are guilty because they re-elect those who serve foreign interests and their personal agendas. Lebanese employers exploit their workers, chasing profit at the expense of dignity, ne...