Jihad Saad – Expand Your Awareness, Transform Your Life

I was there on 27 December 2013.

I had just arrived to Beirut the night before to visit my parents. 27 December was the first day I wake up in Beirut, it was my first morning in my beloved home city.

It was a beautiful sunny day on 27 December 2013, with a perfect blue sky. Just like 14 February 2005 was.

I was walking down Hamra street, on my way to Gefinor and then to AUB. I was so fascinated to be back to my city, just walking down peacefully, looking at the stores, the manakish restaurents, the oranges in fruit stores.. I love Beirut.

Arriving at Hamra street, everyone was gathered around a car that has the news playing out loud.

“Bomb in Starco, Bomb in Down Town.” That was the news.

Why? Who? Where? When? No body knew at the time. And we kept hanging at the news to try to find out more.

I was shaken. Didn’t know what to do. Just kept walking down the Hamra street. I wanted to go to Gefinor to confirm my airline ticket back to Jakarta. The news was everywhere on the streets. A bomb in Starco.

Arriving to Gefinor, it was actually the street just next to the American University Hospital. It was then when I realised what had happened!

The street was closed, and ambulances were arriving one after another, with the ambulance sound “Ta Tou Ta Tou Ta Tou..” being everything you can hear.

And God I could imagine in each of these ambulance, there was someone, somebody, a human being like me, who might be wounded, or dead. Someone who has a family, and friends, and whose life has been just altered forever.

I really felt so sad.

I called my parents, just to tell them I am alive. That I was lucky not to be any one of these people in the ambulances. I was glad my mother, my brother, my father, were all safe. But I learned that one of our prominent politicians, Mr. Mohamad Chatah, has been just assassinated. And then 6 other people have lost their lives.

I continued walking. I was not in mood of going back home. I arrived to AUB Bliss street, got myself a “lebanese” style Nescafe, and went into AUB, one of my beloved places in my city.

I couldn’t believe how beautiful everything was. Perfect blue sky. Beautiful calm sea. Fresh cool air.

I was torn between the heaven I was seeing, and the hell I knew had just taken place.

I went down to the AUB green field. My plan was to run and go to the gym and walk on the corniche.

It was just so strange.

Shall I just go ahead with my plan knowing that my city has just exploded?

Shall I go home and just watch the news?

I was sad. I was angry. I was outraged. But what can I do?

Shall I scream and shout? To who? For what?

At the end I did what I guess most of us in Lebanon have no choice but doing, I just got numb, and went ahead with my plan.

I had good gym session. I had lovely jog in the sun. I stretched in beautiful field with amazing sea view. I walked on the Cornishe as i planned. I had seemingly great time doing exactly what I love doing.

But how can I forget the scenes and the ambulances I had just seen a short time previously?

Ahhhh.

I wished God himself would go down to Earth and intervenes personally to stop this non-sense.

The next days, life went on in Beirut as usual.

Life hang between heaven and hell.

Beautiful sky, and beach, and food, and people.

And a raging conflict with the forces of darkness. The criminals (in the literal sense), the fanatics, the mercenaries, the oppressors. These might seem like harsh words, but they are true, and factual.

How else would people plot car bombs in a beautiful sunny days?

How else could leaders nearby bomb their own people with chemical weapons and explosive barrels from planes?

How else could some lebanese volunteer to fight and to defend the worst dictators the world has ever known?

Forces of darkness. Human monsters who have lost all humanity.

No the lebanese and middle eastern politics is not neutral. No it’s not grey zone. No not all people are the same. No not all politicians are similarly corrupt or similarly bad.

No the ignorant is not equivalent to the wise. The blind is not the same as the man who can see.

Mr. Mohammad Chatah was a respectful politician, whether you agree with him or not. His assassins are criminals and forces of darkness.

This is the truth.

And only the truth can set us free

……

As usual, during my trips to Beirut, I went to visit the tomb of Hariri in the Martyr square.

I love this place. It means a lot to me.

Cause i was there too, on 14 February 2005.

And on 14 March 2005.

There were 4 additional tombs since the last time I was there.

Mohammad Chatah was one of them.

And the battle goes on.