Listening to the news in this country is like waiting for a huge bomb to explode in our face. Whatever we do, and wherever we are, we’ll always wait for this one call and wish we never get it.
I personally don’t actually listen or read the news, I simply scan it. I receive messages from LBCI, and MTV, always hooked on my phone; but what I scan for are the words explosion ‘انفجار’, bomb ‘متفجرة’, missile ‘صاروخ’, gun shots ‘قناس’ or ‘اطلاق نار’, and all the words relating to any murderous incident that might have taken place anywhere and everywhere around my country.
Some people continuously ask me, why keep these news updates if you won’t read most of them. My answer is simple, in case the explosion happens anywhere close to a place where I was, might have been, or usually am in my first reaction is to grab my phone, call my mother and tell her I’m fine, before closing the line asap for my other siblings to be able to call her as well before the lines build up and connections become rare.
So why call it bomb-a-home? Simple explanation as well; not only are targeted crowds, or person, or even place, get harmed with the onset of a car bomb or explosive or whatever the case might be; but ‘casualties’ as some call them are always the main victims of such savagery.
(Trying to put off the fore that spread to houses and cars around the explosion).
Homes are destroyed, schools, streets; people lose their lives, their children, their parents, their friends; but they also might lose their jobs, their office, bakery, market, library, or any other assets. They lose either literary their roof, or the way to keep that roof over their heads… they lose their home.
And yet we continue with our lives, going to work, going for a drink, or heading out for a road trip. We act as if it’s a normal thing, we have gotten used to the casualties, to the savagery, to the killings and destruction. We sometimes shout out, we shed tears for those whose eyes have dried out, we scream in revolt, and call for justice. Yet once the tensions thins out a bit we relax, we still nag, but we don’t do anything to figure a way to stop it; we don’t keep pushing our government to protect our rights, we give up on the fight and let our police (whose job is supposed to protect us) run around after lost souls that smoke up, instead of finding those that kill us.
Like today for example, where they found that the explosion wasn’t triggered from a distance, but where remains of a suicide bomber were found. (How can they even still exist?)
So what am I doing now? I’m still sitting at my desk at work, and so are all the rest of my coworkers; if we were to leave and go into hiding in our homes, which are not even that safe anymore, we would lose that job and that which keep our house’s roof over our heads. There is no such thing as a moment of silence anymore, once we have called all the people we know, all those we care about, and made sure they are safe; we go back into our trance of everyday life, trying to ignore the pains of the others so not to be overwhelmed.
So now I need to clock in the rest of my hours for the day. Have a safe day without fireworks my friends. And keep yourselves away from danger (if you recognize it in time).