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Monday, April 11, 2005

Lebanese war series - Day #4

Children of the war

Sitting with the boys in the living room, the fading picture of their parents on the wall I felt a deep, oppressive sadness at the misfortunes which had befallen these boys, the youngest of whom had become men before their time. Brothers locked in a world of loss. The fading portrait of their parents on the wall and a feeling that the house was exactly the way mother had kept it ensured haste in my workshop. They seemed keen but their eyes only conveyed anguish. The oldest was getting married in a weeks time. I said my thanks and goodbyes secretly hoping they would use the cameras for the wedding.

I met many more people that day, in particular, three more children who were to join the ranks of hundreds who have offered me their stories of loss, anguish, fear and pain. The stories have begun to become one: stories of flight, of losing loved ones, stories written simply and honestly. They had all thanked me but I felt unhappy, I felt inadequate. They have trusted me to tell their stories but it seems too little; no words can convey the sorrow and fear in their eyes.

Source: War Child

And this may be cheesy, but I wanted to include it anyway:

All of my life, all I have known,
only a place where peace cannot go;
All over the world, the gift from before,
nothing is left for the children of war;
And did you go to your bed with a sweet lullaby,
And the sound of the guns in the night,
And did you dance in the fields, did you run for your life,
From the hell that came down from the sky?

-Chris de Burgh, "Lebanese Night"

Edit: The second photo of Palestinian refugees in the slums of Karantina was taken by Françoise Demulder (France, Gamma) and won the World Press Photo of the Year award in 1976.

The word of honour.
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