August 4, 2020. 6:07 pm. My family and I were at home, not far from the port. When the explosion happened, the force was unimaginable. Our building shook, windows blew out, and the city turned into chaos in an instant.

My daughter was at a crossroads, directly facing the port. By some miracle, she was unharmed. God’s grace protected her, and for that, I’m endlessly grateful.

Five years later, alongside the grief and the trauma, what has never left me is the anger. Anger that such a catastrophic event, one that destroyed lives, homes, and an entire part of the city, could happen without anyone being held accountable. The injustice is unbearable.

We remember. We mourn. We are angry. And we will keep demanding justice, for every soul lost that day and every life forever changed.