The war has come knocking, once again, on the door of the Lebanese, in Lebanon, but also in Quebec. We are not like our compatriots, under the bombings, but I am not exaggerating if I tell you that it is as if we were.
I do not want to present a political point of view or present a historical analysis of the problem, nor propose solutions. I want to share my painful experience, and I am sure that it is similar to that of many people in the Lebanese community in Quebec.
The concern is at its height, the intense bombings, thousands of evacuees, civilians killed, injured, terrorized by the incessant strikes, bereaved families, children and young people deprived of school. A people deprived of a life, as if destiny was mercilessly attacking Lebanon, which has lived and survived all kinds of crises, wars and terror. I am paralyzed and powerless to stop this massacre. We live here, we had the opportunity to choose and adopt a new country and build a new life in Quebec.
We try to pretend we have a routine, and tell ourselves that everything is going to be okay. This is not about indifference or denial of reality. The truth catches up with us, intense stress overwhelms us, a felt helplessness, bitter helplessness on how to help, encourage, support our loved ones on the other side of the planet.
An immense effort is made to wake us up every morning, after nights tormented by news from our loved ones, news from our Lebanon. Equipped with considerable strength to be able to take a call from a sister who was shaking in panic while going to pick up her child from school, from a friend who was crying because she does not know where to hide.
Responsibilities
At the same time, we lead a life facing multiple responsibilities, including those towards our native country, towards our families and our friends. A determination to keep a smile on your face while your heart is bathed in sadness.
Get the news from our parents and friends in Lebanon and also share their fear, feel their anguish, see their panicked look, their sadness, their loss. A much-needed courage to reassure our loved ones, listen to them and understand them. Our country is being dissected under the “prudent”, silent gaze of the world.
The silent pain suffocates my heart. My battle scars are not healed and probably never will be. They are ready to open at any moment.
My pains don’t even bother to deafen me with their endless chatter. A lot of emotions arise with each information received, with each call. Stand up, find a way to stop the injustice suffered by the Lebanese people, to help the innocent people under attack, to bring the children back to school and to say out loud, to shout “enough”.
Each of us fights a battle every day not to fall, to gather all the courage possible to move forward, to find hope, a light so as not to sink into darkness. Thousands of kilometers from our Lebanon, we can only feel bitterness, disgust at the horror scenes taking place in this small country.
Speech like “denounce”, “refuse” and “condemn”, devoid of any serious action, cannot stop these crimes. And I will pass over the hypocritical, even racist messages that certain political analysts or journalists send, without restraint.
Leaving the country was a heartbreaking choice for me and my husband. We left Lebanon, but Lebanon refuses to leave us, it inhabits us permanently.