Beirut, God, Beirut.

It’s been six month. My God, it’s been six months and not one single step closer to justice.

Have you seen the photos of the mothers? The mothers carrying the photos of their sons and daughters, who have been killed ruthlessly by the behemoth hands of beasts?

How can they sleep at night? Knowing these mothers cannot breathe? How can they go on with their lives when a mother desperately gives in to the fact that her child has died for no reason, and still no one wants to explain to her why. 

Could you go on, explain to her? Explain to her why the sun does not shine anymore and why she now throws away the remaining of her pot of stew. Forgive her; she is still not used to making lesser portions; she still makes some extra for her son, who they murdered.

She makes his bed every morning even though it remains untouched at night. Forgive her; she refuses to believe that no one sleeps on this bed anymore. She refuses to believe that her child is no longer her child but is a child of the Earth, his ashes still buried under the rubbles on a hot August day.

What do you tell her when she walks towards the silos for the first time in six months and searches for her son? She knows, she’s not crazy, she knows he is not there, she knows he is long dead, and he cannot even hear her wails, but what do you tell her when she impulsively walks searching for her son, to tug him back to sleep at night?

I read on the Legal Agenda that a little boy is planning on making a ladder so tall that it reaches the sky, so he can visit his father up in heaven whenever he wants. What do you tell this boy? How can you tell him that that wherever his dad is, he will not be able to reach him?

You’d think it gets easier with time. If It’s not easier on us, the privileged ones who got away with only seeing their beloved city on the grounds, how will it ever get easier on the victims’ families?

And the murderers still sleep in gold-plated king-sized beds and breathe the same air we breathe. How can they sleep? How can they breathe the same air as the families of victims and still sleep?