"Beirut, should I stay or should I go?"

"Beirut, should I stay or should I go?"

For most Lebanese people, the answer to this question is pretty clear. Whoever can leave is most likely to do so. The last post on HeartB’s LinkedIn page included a picture with the word “Hope”. I was joyful and enthusiastic seeing this painting upon my arrival to Beirut, but little did I know that hope was actually missing in the country and many people gave up on fighting. “Don’t waste your energy on Lebanon”, I’ve been told. I wish I only heard this sentence once, but I nearly hear it on a daily basis. And I do have to say, I understand them, and I get why they tell me to leave. Even though I only suffer of less than half of the crisis’s consequences, it takes a lot of energy to live here.

I experience the blackouts, because the generators can not keep up with all the electricity cuts, which means no AC in very hot, clammy weather conditions, no wifi, not being able to do my laundry, charge my phone or do anything else in need of electricity. Meetings get continuously cancelled and plans are not working out because of roadblocks or because my friends need to save their car’s fuel for work or emergencies. They tell me they spend up to four hours in queues at the gas stations only to fill half their tanks, since there is no reliable public transportation in the country and taxis are more and more costly for the Lebanese. Also, when in traffic I experience dangerous situations because of the lack of street lights and traffic lights. I risk getting sick and not finding the medicine that I need. And I should not forget to mention that half of my acquaintances here have already left the country looking for a better future abroad, while the remaining half are frustrated and depressed.?

And than to imagine that I have my crazy purple passport that allows me to go anywhere I want and leave the country that its citizens are trying to escape but cannot due to their weak Lebanese passport. My money is not blocked in the banks, unlike the people living here who can only withdraw a limited amount of cash from their accounts. I have euros, which are now worth 13 times more than it used to be four years ago. The worth of my salary did not dramatically decrease with almost 90 %. The minimum wage in Lebanon is now only worth less than 32,5 euro and by the time you read this, it might already be less, and this for a country mainly depending on imports. Luckily, I have no family members here to take care of or worry about their medications, lost savings or missing pensions. Besides, I do have my insurance, unlike many Lebanese nowadays.?

For me, the question whether to stay or to leave is not about these challenges but about my criticism that made me build HeartB. While being an anthropologist and a Middle Eastern studies graduate seems aligned, it is not always the case. One shows the beauty of people’s cultures and their ancient ways of dealing with issues and teaches to not interfere in other people’s cultures while the other, Middle-Eastern studies, showed how different countries are interfering in others, with their own interests and cultural values at stake. This made me fed up and willing to fight for the voices of the resilient people I have met. Since everyone I have met during my stays in Morocco, Tunisia, Jordan, Palestine and Lebanon asked me to add them on a social media designed for the face, I decided to create a platform for the heart, a platform that could help people and make a change in their lives and have their voices heard.

However, now I need to be critical towards myself and HeartB, the platform I invested so much time and energy in for the past year and a half. If people don’t want to fight, come up with solutions, or have their voices heard, should I still stay here or should I go back home or perhaps somewhere else?

People who know me, know that I don't give up easily. Because of what Ayman, a hardworking HeartB team member told me, I continued to fight: “I maybe have only 1 percent of hope and that’s why I am with HeartB”. I don’t want to give up on Ayman’s one percent and found others like him with even bigger percentages of hope and positive spirit for Lebanon. If you know any other Lebanese or organisation that still has hope, tell them about HeartB and tag them so we can continue this fight together.

However, if you strongly believe that I should leave, let me know in the comments. If you (Lebanese) are many, I will do so with tears in my eyes, just like every Lebanese leaving. Because, dear Lebanon, you are so beautiful, yet so cursed at the same time.