As Nour Shawaf picks up her phone in Beirut, the whir of drones fills the air.
This relentless noise has become her constant companion.
It’s like a shadow, there when she’s working or soothing her four-year-old son at home.
She shares that the presence of the drone dictates her nights, making a comforting sleep next to her child a necessity.
Yet explaining these drones to her young son feels impossible. “You just can’t break it down for a four-year-old,” she states emphatically.
“He keeps asking, ‘What are those noises? Why is there a buzz overhead? Why can’t it just stop? Why does school sometimes close? Why are we stuck indoors?’ I find myself at a loss for answers,” she continues.
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“Those sounds are frightening… they make him want to curl up and cling to me,” Ms. Shawaf recounts, illustrating her son’s instinctive need for safety as he grapples with an incomprehensible reality.
As the Regional Humanitarian Policy and Advocacy Advisor for Oxfam, she dedicates her efforts to alleviate the suffering around her.
Her team is working tirelessly to ensure access to clean water, essential food, sanitary products, and mattresses.
For Nour, every day feels like a fight against helplessness, especially when it comes to protecting her son.
“He believes I can shield him from all of this,” she says, her voice laced with a mixture of despair and determination.
“Sometimes I feel like the little gestures—hugging him, sleeping next to him, letting him hide behind me when the drone’s overhead—offer a sense of protection. But deep down, I understand they do little to change our reality, and that thought is devastating,” she reflects.
Terror and anxiety are woven into the fabric of each day for her.
“I’m terrified—every single second. I can’t predict what the next moment will bring. Will Israel’s next strike target my neighborhood, my workplace, or my son’s school? And this is during times when schools are actually open,” she laments.
The noise of airstrikes strikes even greater dread in her heart.
“Airstrikes are the worst, as you never know how close they are or what has been hit,” she explains, her eyes clouding with worry.
“The first bang makes you bristle with fear because you’re always on alert for a second one. With new tactics being employed—multiple bombings and leveling entire areas—the thought always looms: Am I next?” she sighs.
At 34, Nour is seven months pregnant, eagerly anticipating the arrival of her baby boy in December.
However, the bombings create a gnawing guilt within her about bringing another child into such chaos.
“Honestly, every time there’s a strike, I feel it deep inside,” she shares, a hint of anguish in her voice.
“It’s as though the life growing inside me senses my fear. I can’t shake off this guilt about nurturing a new life amid such turmoil.”
“How will I manage to give birth under these conditions? How do I care for a newborn amidst so much uncertainty? We’re already seeing shortages of basic items like milk and diapers, let alone what the situation will be like in a couple of months if things don’t change.”
Nour can’t even fathom whether maternity care will be available when her time arrives.
But she pushes those worries aside, recognizing that survival is her only focus. “I can’t afford the luxury of pondering how to navigate the next two months, how I’ll give birth, or whether access to a hospital will even be possible,” she says with a sense of resignation.
“We’ve witnessed mothers delivering in makeshift shelters, women who couldn’t breastfeed due to trauma, and mothers struggling to care for their children. I definitely don’t want to be the next statistic,” she declares, her resolve evident.
People have fled their homes, seeking refuge from the relentless bombings, leaving everything behind.
“From the outset of this escalation, Oxfam has been on the front lines, providing necessary assistance to those displaced by violence.”
“We’re supplying clean water, bedding, and other essentials because too many are sleeping on the bare ground, with nothing to shield them from the elements. We’re also ensuring access to food and vital supplies so that they can eat,” she elaborates.
Many of those sleeping rough have lost everything, recounting how they fled in panic as airstrikes rained down.
Ms. Shawaf notes that while some individuals received warnings before they had to leave, others faced bombardment as they hurriedly escaped, their homes left in ruins.
She reflects on the devastation wrought by Lebanon’s economic collapse in 2019, making the current crisis feel even graver than during the 2006 war.
“Before the escalation, food insecurity loomed large due to the economic collapse. But now, with so many unable to work, the situation is deteriorating rapidly. Families face the harsh reality: Do I feed my children today with the little I have, or save it for tomorrow? Should I buy medicine for my ailing parents? Or perhaps rent a modest, safer place for my kids?” she narrates, her heart heavy with the weight of such choices.
Edited by: Ali Musa
alimusa@axadletimes.com
Axadle international–Monitoring
