Shady Rizk, a survivor wounded during last year's Beirut port blast, points at the damaged office where he was working at the moment of the blast, in Beirut, Lebanon July 30, 2021.
Lebanese trainer Ramzi Baaklini, who was injured during last year's Beirut port blast, holds a phone in Baabda, Lebanon July 14, 2021.
Mohamad Cherry poses in his home that was damaged in last year's Beirut port blast, in Beirut, Lebanon July 27, 2021. "I feel strange. I feel like a stranger in my home... I've felt this way for a year now. And it's like we are still reliving what happened? it's also hard to forget because I am still living in the same house where I went through this? My house is my comfort. It's the place I've lived in for seven years...but unfortunately, this comfort zone got invaded?I tried to find myself again in my home: I made changes to the decor, I got plants... I tried to find a way to bring happiness, a light again at home. but unfortunately no matter how hard I try, this light is not showing up?.The trauma that I am living and that I lived on the 4th of August.. I am not able to fix, through [yet] therapy". 27-year old Mohamad said. Picture taken July 27, 2021.
Roy Sawma, looks at his tattoo of his late cousin Joe Noun, a firefighter who was a victim of last year's Beirut port blast, in Beirut, Lebanon July 15, 2021.
Shady Rizk, a survivor wounded during last year's Beirut port blast, holds his dog on the rooftop of his house, in Sin el-Fil, Lebanon July 30, 2021.
A woman walks on rubble at the site of last year's Beirut port blast, in Beirut, Lebanon July 13, 2021.
Tatiana Hasrouty, whose father was killed in the August 4 explosion at Beirut port, poses with her mother Ibtissam in her family home in Sin El Fil, Lebanon July 19, 2021. "I was sleeping when the blast happened so it was as if my place of safety and rest was no longer there and my father who was my soul.. he also was no longer there," 20-year old Tatiana said.
Noelle Jouane, a mental health programme manager at the Bekaa unit of Medecins du Monde, which provides medical care, attends an interview with Reuters in Beirut, Lebanon July 23, 2021.
Anwar Ramadan, 30, sits in a coffee shop that was damaged when she was there during last year's Beirut port blast, in Beirut, Lebanon July 26, 2021. "My ears popped, that's why I was feeling dizzy most of the time and I wasn't hearing very well. I'm still treating my ears but they are not healing. There is pain all the time, my head feeling like it is going to burst. The amount of trauma we are in makes you think that it happened yesterday... There is anger when you feel that you are worth nothing in this country... Ever since the 4th of August, I am on alert; I feel like all my brain functions are on simultaneously because in addition to the lack of the sense of security, you should always be aware, if something happens, and in control... I don't know when I'm going to feel good again or when I'll be able to sleep like a normal person like I use to." Anwar said.
Emmanuelle Lteif Khnaisser, who was in labour at the moment of last year's Beirut port blast, plays with her son, baby George Khnaisser, at the family home in Jal el-Dib, Lebanon, July 24, 2021.
The grain silo that was damaged during Aug. 4, 2020 explosion in Beirut's port, is illuminated on the eve of blast anniversary, in Beirut, Lebanon August 3, 2021.
Ibrahim Hoteit, the spokesperson for families of the victims of August 4 explosion at Beirut port, attends an interview with Reuters, in Beirut suburbs, Lebanon July 19, 2021.
Construction workers are seen at an area that was damaged during the Aug. 4 explosion at Beirut's port, after almost a year since the explosion, Lebanon, July 27, 2021.
Tatiana Hasrouty, whose father was killed in last year's Beirut port blast, poses in her family home in Sin El Fil, Lebanon July 30, 2021. "I was sleeping when the blast happened so it was as if my place of safety and rest was no longer there and my father who was my soul.. he also was no longer there," 20-year old Tatiana said.
Sunset view of "The Gesture", a 25-meter sculpture by Lebanese architect Nadim Karam to commemorate victims of last year's Beirut blast, at the capital's port in Lebanon, August 2, 2021.
Sophie Ghaziri, who now lives outside Beirut, carries her cat at home in Byblos, Lebanon July 20, 2021. "Not until we sat down with ourselves, did we have time to process what we had gone through. That's when the panic attacks started, that's when I thought my heart was going to come out of my chest?. we moved as far away from Beirut as possible and it feels a lot safer here..I didn?t lose a family member and I didn?t lose anything, I just lost myself in this". 34-year old Journalist and producer, Sophie Ghaziri, said.
Hala Makhlouf, 38, sits in her house that was damaged during last year's Beirut port blast, in Beirut, Lebanon July 20, 2021. "I came back home on March 30th and in all honesty it took me 3 to 4 weeks to be able to get used to my room again, my bed, and to even be able to sleep? any noise I hear, I get rattled. Any intense noise makes me very jumpy...You stay on alert all the time?you have this permanent fear. If there is such a phobia from fear, then we have it. You never know, you are insecure. The place you are at is not safe anymore". Hala said.
Chaza Akik, assistant research professor at AUB, poses on the rooftop of her building, where she was standing when last year's Beirut port blast occurred, in Beirut, Lebanon July 26, 2021. "I was in the eye of the storm as they say. So I didn't feel, I did not see nor did I hear. Others saw and heard and for sure are suffering in a different way... After approximately three to four weeks after the blast, I insisted on going up to the rooftop... and I concluded that maybe I had amnesia and that my brain blacked out on purpose, to protect me, so I think my brain forbid me from recalling what happened but my body was still holding this memory and for sure it is a sensitive topic to be brought up to me...Now whenever I leave the house, I wonder if I should leave the windows open or closed, I feel the burden every time I hear a sound, the news about fires, or something might happen. There is fear". 38 year-old Chaza said. Picture taken July 26, 2021.
Israa Seblani, a Lebanese doctor and the bride who was caught up in the last year's Beirut port blast during a wedding photoshoot, poses for a picture with her husband Ahmad Subeih, at the same square where they were for their photoshoot in the moment of August 4 explosion, in Beirut, Lebanon July 24, 2021.
Khadija Dia, 30, who was working as an emergency medical technician for the Red Cross when last year's Beirut port blast occurred, poses for a picture in Beirut, Lebanon July 23, 2021. "I can't see myself going out anymore, I can't stand seeing people in pain, I can't see destroyed houses in Beirut anymore. I feel like I want to stay home, I don't want to see people anymore. Psychologically speaking, I can't stand to see the pain people are going through...Every time I pass by the port, I start crying. I just can't watch my friends posting videos about the Aug. 4 blast, every time I see such a thing I cry. The trauma can be defined when you can't live in your own country anymore." Khadija said.
A year after Beirut's deadly blast, residents grapple with trauma