How can a mother live without her son?

When I woke early on 4 August 2020, I didn’t know that it would be the last day I would hold Elias, my 15-year-old son, and feel his hair in my face as we embraced; the last day I would prepare his meals; the last day I would hear his voice calling me; or the last day I would listen to his giggles and shouts with his friends. I didn’t know.

We were in our home when the fires began. Elias was in his room, the place that is supposed to be the safest for every child.

I didn’t hear the explosions – I was knocked unconscious. My brother found Elias in his room – two walls had collapsed on him – but he was still alive. They were unable to remove the rubble covering his body, and only when people came up from the street to help were they able to free my son and take him outside.

When I recovered consciousness, I, too, went to the street. I saw my son lying there. There were no ambulances, and a stranger offered his car to take my husband and son to the hospital. With Elias laid on the back seat, there was no room for me.

"When I woke early on 4 August 2020, I didn’t know that it would be the last day I would hold Elias, my 15-year-old son, and feel his hair in my face as we embraced"

It didn’t cross my mind that this could be the last time I would see Elias. He was barely conscious, but my husband continued to talk and give him words of encouragement. He kept repeating, “I am next to you. I am your father, don’t be afraid”.

On arriving at the hospital, my son was taken immediately to the operating theatre. I was taken to a different hospital with my daughter. As Elias struggled for his life in intensive care, my husband was with him every day for the next thirteen days. I insisted on visiting and was twice taken from my hospital bed to my son’s bed across the city where, I now know, he lay dying.

Fourteen days after the two walls collapsed on him in his room, Elias passed away.

How can a mother live without her son? The sweetest young man on Earth, he had dreams of his own and wanted to become an architect. He could have become someone who would have improved Lebanon and the world. And it was his right to be safe. Elias was a child. It was his right, and the right of every child killed or injured on that day, to be safe in his own house, in his own room.

My husband, my daughter and I are still recovering from our injuries. Losing Elias is something from which we can never recover. After one year, we still do not know the true story behind the reasons for the senseless death of my son. For the sake of today’s children and for future generations, I implore the world to help us get an independent investigation and to hold the people responsible for this tragedy accountable and justice be served.