Last Friday, at around 19:00, an Israeli air strike hit a car in a village in southern Lebanon called Froun. This part of the country is the heartland of the Shia Muslim community and has long been under the sway of Hezbollah, the Lebanese Shia militia and political party. Streets are adorned with banners celebrating fighters as 'martyrs of the resistance'. I arrived in Froun an hour after the strike. Rescue workers had already removed the body parts of the only casualty, described by the Israeli military as a 'Hezbollah terrorist'. Despite a ceasefire deal implemented in November, Israel continues its bombing campaign almost daily.
Who is going to help us? resident Mohamad Mokdad expressed despair. The car struck while passing his house, leaving debris and a chilling reminder of violence. I just want to live in peace. I don’t want parties, a sentiment likely alluding to Hezbollah.
Israel claims its actions target Hezbollah as the group attempts to regain strength post-conflict. Amid the tears and destruction, public sentiment shifts; traditionally supportive voices are now questioning the sectarian violence and political affiliations that have long dictated their existence.
The ceasefire ended more than a year of war, which cost 4,000 Lebanese and 120 Israelis. Accusations from Israel of Hezbollah's continued military activity raise fears among civilians now uncertain of their future, living under the constant buzz of Israeli aircraft. Many like Nayef al-Rida from the border village of Yaroun express hopelessness, citing a life filled with fear and a yearning for stability in the shadow of Hezbollah's stronghold and Israeli hostility. This is no life, he lamented, encapsulating the growing crisis of both identity and safety in southern Lebanon.
Who is going to help us? resident Mohamad Mokdad expressed despair. The car struck while passing his house, leaving debris and a chilling reminder of violence. I just want to live in peace. I don’t want parties, a sentiment likely alluding to Hezbollah.
Israel claims its actions target Hezbollah as the group attempts to regain strength post-conflict. Amid the tears and destruction, public sentiment shifts; traditionally supportive voices are now questioning the sectarian violence and political affiliations that have long dictated their existence.
The ceasefire ended more than a year of war, which cost 4,000 Lebanese and 120 Israelis. Accusations from Israel of Hezbollah's continued military activity raise fears among civilians now uncertain of their future, living under the constant buzz of Israeli aircraft. Many like Nayef al-Rida from the border village of Yaroun express hopelessness, citing a life filled with fear and a yearning for stability in the shadow of Hezbollah's stronghold and Israeli hostility. This is no life, he lamented, encapsulating the growing crisis of both identity and safety in southern Lebanon.
