Where were you on August 4, 2020? How did you experience that day?

I was in my studio in Beirut when the explosion happened. The impact was deeply emotional. The sound, the shockwave, and the images that followed shook me to my core. It felt like the entire city cried out at once. That moment split time in two; before and after.

What were the consequences of the explosion for you — at the time, in the weeks, months, and years that followed?

In the days that followed, I walked through the streets, helping where I could. I picked up shattered pieces of glass, not just from the ground, but as a way to carry something from that moment. I later used them in a mixed-media artwork to express the devastation, the rage, and the collective grief. It became a physical manifestation of what we were all feeling: fragmented, wounded, and unheard.

Five years later, what do you feel? What do you want to say?

Five years on, the wounds remain open. Like many Lebanese, I feel abandoned, no justice, no truth, just silence. My artwork still carries that memory. We want answers. We want those responsible to be held accountable. Art became my voice when words weren’t enough. 

As an artist, I’ll keep creating from this rupture. I will not let the world forget. Beirut deserves to heal, and healing can only begin with truth.

Through it, I continue to say: We will not forget, and we will not be silenced.

The artwork attached that I have paint stands as a testament to our resilience and determination. Despite the crisis, we remain strong and committed to rebuilding ourselves, rising from the ashes of destruction. It reflects our unwavering resolve to never forget, to never remain silent, and to continue seeking the truth.