I want to share a story with you.

Disclaimer: All characters and places mentioned in this story are real. This story was narrated to me over the phone by my fiancée. I trust my fiancée. She does not lie.

Last week, my fiancée and her family were sitting in their home in Dekweneh (an area in the northern part of greater Beirut) when they heard shouts in the building across from theirs. They did not do any reaction at first for they are used to hearing shouts and seeing fights in that street. However, the shouting continued and grew louder, so they ran out to the balcony to see.

Now, you must understand something about city life in Beirut: it is like being in the movies, all day. All you have to do is step outside to your balcony. So my fiancée and her family looked across the street and they saw their neighbours in the opposite building locked in a fight. There was a mother being beaten. One of the sons was doing the beating. The other was trying to top him, with no avail. The first son, the one doing the beating, was running around the house breaking things up. The sounds of shattering glass and falling cabinets filled the afternoon air.

The angry son ran to get a kitchen knife. The other son, his twin, ran out to the balcony and shouted out to the shop keepers and all who could hear: “He is going to kill our mother. Call the cops.”

The frightened observers did not need much encouragement. Fingers started dialling all across the street. My fiancée’s sister called the cops.

Sister: come, come quickly, a man is about to murder his mother.

Police man: (stifling a yawn) Hello. Yes, yes sure. Can you give us more details.

Sister: (after giving him exact address) Please, come quickly.

The waiting began. 5 minutes passed. No police showed up. My fiancée picked up the phone and called them again.

Fiancée: Where are you? The boy is going to kill his mother. Come quickly.

Police man: Yes, yes we are coming. Many people have called. Can you give us the address again.

My fiancée gave them the address, again, and the police said that they had dispatched a car from Jdeideh. Now Jdeideh neighbours Dekweneh, but there is a police office in Dekweneh. However, the police wisely chose to dispatch a force from another town to deal with a possible live murder.

10 minutes passed. Suddenly the fighting stopped. The son who was doing the attacking must have felt scared. He ran down the stairs, hopped into his car, and drove off in a hurry.

My fiancée sister called again, and told the cops that the man was escaping. The police asked her to describe him or describe his car. They might have asked her to catch him while she was at it. She did her best to describe his moving car from the balcony of the fourth floor. The police said that they were on their way. She remarked: “By the time you come he will be in the Bekaa valley (a 2-hour drive from Beirut).”

8 days have passed. The street is still waiting for the cops to come.

The cops must have taken a wrong turn. Or perhaps they are busy giving out tickets for people who do not have fire extinguishers in their car trunks.

Let us stand in prayer:


Our defenders are corrupt.

We are defenceless.

All we have is you


 مدونة حيث تجتمع الجوارح

ملاحظة: الجوارح تلك النسور التي تأكل الجثث. وإن أردت معرفة لما اخترت هذا الإسم الغريب فاقرأ مدونتي الأولى

 مدونة #14: لم تأت الشرطة

أريد أن أشارك قصة معكم

تنازل: كل الشخصيات والمناطق المذكورة في القصة هي حقيقية. لقد أخبرتني هذه القصة خطيبتي عبر الهاتف. أنا اثق بخطيبتي. هي لا تكذب

الأسبوع الماضي بينما كانت خطيبتي وعائلتها جالسين في بيتهم في الدكوانة (منطقة شمال بيروت) سمعوا أصوات صراخ من البناية المقابلة لهم. لم يبدوا أي ردة فعل لأنه معتادون على سماع صراخ ورؤية مشاكل في هذا الشارع. ولكن الصراخ استمر وازداد حدة فركضوا للشرفة

وعليكم أن تعرفوا التالي، حياة المدينة في بيروت تشبه زيارة السينما، فكل ما عليكم فعله هو الخروج للشرفة. وهذا ما فعلته خطبيتي وعائلتها إذ ركضوا للشرفة فرأوا جيرانهم في هرج ومرج. الأم كانت تتعرض للضرب. أحد أبنائها كان يضربها. الإبن الآخر كان يحاول أن يوقفه من دون أن ينجح. كان الإبن الأول، الذي يضرب، يركض في البيت ويكسر كل الأغراض. وخرقت أصوات الزجاح المتكسر والخزائن الساقطة هدوء بعد الظهر

وركض الإبن الغاضب للمطبخ ليجلب سكين. فركض الإبن الآخر، وهما توأمان، وصرخ من على الشرفة: “إلحقوني. سيقتل أمنا. اتصلوا بالشرطة

المراقبون الخائفون هرعوا لهواتفهم. وامتدت الأصابع على الأزرار طالبة الشرطة. واتصلت أخت خطيبتي بالشرطة

الأخت: تعالوا بسرعة، هناك رجل على وشك ان يقتل أمه

الشرطي (وهو يتثائب): مرحبا. نعم بالتأكيد. أعطينا تفاصيل عن المكان

الأخت (بعد أن اعطته العنوان بالتفصيل): أرجوكم أسرعوا

وابتدأ الإنتظار. مرت 5 دقائق. ولم تأتي الشرطة. رفعت خطيبتي الهاتف واتصلت بهم مرة أخرى

خطيبتي: اين أصبحتم؟ الولد سيقتل أمه أسرعوا

الشرطي: نعم نحن على الطريق. لقد اتصل الكثير من الناس. أعطينا العنوان مرة أخرى

فأعطته خطيبتي العنوان مرة أخرى. وقال لها الشرطي بأنهم أرسلوا سيارة من الجديدة، والجديدة منطقة محاذية للدكوانة. وهذا مستغرب لأنه يوجد مخفر في الدكوانة. ولكن الشرطة وبحكمتهم المعهودة أرسلوا قوة من مدينة مجاورة للتعامل مع حالة قتل  طارئة

مرت 10 دقائق. وفجأة توقف العراك. الإبن الذي كان يهاجم أمه شعر بالخوف فنزل السلالم مسرعا وانطلق بسيارته

اتصلت أخت خطيبتي ثانية بالشرطة. وقالت لهم أن الشاب يهرب. طلبت الشرطة منها أن تصفه وتصف سيارته. كان الأجدر بهم أن يطلبوا منها أن تعتقله بنفسها. جربت قدر المستطاع أن تصف السيارة المسرعة من على شرفة الطابق الرابع. وقالت الشرطة أنها غلى الطريق. فردت الأخت: عندما تصلون سيكون وصل الشاب للبقاع

لقد مرت 8 أيام. ولا زال أهل الشارع ينتظرون الشرطة

لربما أخطأت الشرطة الطريق. أو لربما هم مشغولون بإعطاء مخالفات مرورية لمن لا يمتلك مطفئة حريق في صندوق سيارته

دعونا نقف لنصلي

يا رب

المدافعون عنا فاسدون

نحن بلا حماية

كل ما لدينا هو أنت


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  1. Thank you for sharing this, it’s very well written. I would also like to share my experience. I was at a friend’s apartment, and we suddenly heard shouts and screams from the apartment neighboring ours, where a man and woman live. At first we didn’t give it much thought, but as soon as we heard glass breaking, objects being thrown to the ground, and the helpless screams of the woman, we looked at each other in shock and thought we should call the police.

    We called and gave details of the events occurring, and gave them the address which they quickly recognized and assured us that a few men would be on their way. Another 20 mins of senseless shouting and cursing pass, and yet not one policeman set foot in the building. The shouting finally died down, to be followed by a sobbing woman on the balcony next to ours. Just like in your post, the police never came. We felt helpless, since the people that are supposed to help and protect us have abandoned us, and it would have been better to personally get involved in order to save someone. We have since then, after telling our story to countless people, learned that police in Lebanon rarely show up when it comes to domestic abuse.

    I hope that this post reaches many people, and makes them realize how defenseless we really are.

    • Thank you for sharing. Yes, unfortunately these things happen all over Lebanon and they happen daily.
      I do not understand why the police do not show up when domestic violence is involved!
      I hope more people speak up against this issue and things change

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