Vithanage Erandi Kawshalya Madhushani Jade Times Staff
V.E.K. Madhushani is a Jadetimes news reporter covering Israel - Gaza.
The toll of indiscriminate bombing and its impact on civilians in Beirut
Mohammed Sukayneh sifted through the rubble of what had been his home for 45 years, clutching a few plastic bags the only remnants he could salvage. His home in southern Beirut was reduced to ruins by an Israeli airstrike that claimed at least 18 lives, including four children, according to Lebanon’s Health Ministry. The devastating strike hit a densely populated area just 150 meters from Lebanon’s largest public hospital, the Rafik Hariri hospital, leaving the community in shock and mourning.
The airstrike came without warning, catching families like Mohammed’s while they slept. "After the strike, we heard ‘boom, boom, boom,’ and everything fell on us stones, metal, blood, and flesh," he recounted. Miraculously, Mohammed survived with minor injuries, but his 20 year old nephew now lies in intensive care, his life hanging by a thread. "Half of his brain is crushed," said Mohammed, his voice heavy with grief and anger.
The destruction in the area was immense. Six residential buildings, mostly three to four stories high, were completely demolished. Survivors and rescuers worked tirelessly to find those still trapped beneath the debris, as the death toll continued to rise. Many civilians questioned why their neighborhood, far from any military installations, had been targeted. "There are no Hezbollah here, we are all civilians," cried a distressed woman in the wreckage.
"Indiscriminate Bombing": Residents Speak Out
Mohammed, like many others, expressed frustration and disbelief at the indiscriminate nature of the attack. "Where are the rockets here? Where are the guns?" he asked, pointing to the shattered remains of what was once a bustling neighborhood. Israeli forces claimed the strike targeted a Hezbollah stronghold, but for the residents, the explanation offered little comfort as their homes and lives were reduced to rubble.
The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) maintained that it had struck a Hezbollah "terrorist target" near the hospital, though it provided no evidence of what the target was. Despite the IDF’s claims, the impact of the bombing reached the nearby Rafik Hariri hospital, which was hit by shrapnel, although it continues to function.
In contrast, the Al Sahel private hospital, located about 2km away, was evacuated after the Israeli military accused Hezbollah of using the facility as a cover for a hidden bunker filled with cash and gold. The hospital staff, led by Dr. Mazen Alameh, quickly dismissed these allegations, offering journalists a tour of the facility, including its lower levels, to disprove the claim. "We are a private hospital, not linked to any group," insisted Dr. Alameh, visibly frustrated by the accusations.
Hospitals Caught in the Conflict
The toll on medical facilities has been profound. While the Rafik Hariri hospital remains operational despite the surrounding chaos, Al Sahel remains closed as doctors fear further strikes. "We evacuated like crazy," said Dr. Alameh, recalling the frantic efforts to move patients and staff to safety. The hospital, a longstanding community institution, now sits empty as drones circle overhead, reminding everyone that no place is safe.
Israel’s claims of hidden Hezbollah bunkers beneath civilian infrastructure have further fueled tensions. Despite the IDF’s assertions, no evidence of these bunkers has been found in the areas investigated by reporters. In the meantime, life for civilians and medical professionals in southern Beirut remains uncertain as the bombing continues.
A City Under Siege
Beirut has once again become a warzone, with multi-story buildings reduced to ash in seconds. The psychological toll is immense, and survivors are left stricken by fear. Many residents are questioning how much longer they can survive in the face of relentless airstrikes. "This war is hurting everyone," said one displaced woman, her voice echoing the sentiments of many who are left without homes or hope.
As hospitals attempt to reopen and families cling to whatever they can salvage, the cycle of violence continues. With the Israeli military imposing its own wartime schedule, many fear that their neighborhoods will remain targets, caught in the crossfire of a conflict far larger than themselves.
Mohammed, sitting by his makeshift shelter in the heart of Beirut, looks towards the future with a heavy heart. "We will rebuild," he says, determined yet resigned to the fact that the destruction may not end anytime soon. Overhead, the drone’s buzz continues a grim reminder of the war still raging above.
