Six years after Beirut blast, families fight for truth

The tragedy remains an open wound, with grieving families fighting for accountability.On August 4, 2020, at exactly 6:07pm, the history of Beirut was brutally split into two eras. A huge explosion, caused by the ignition of 2,750 tonnes of improperly stored ammonium nitrate, ripped through the Lebanese capital.The blast, widely considered one of the largest non-nuclear explosions in modern history, killed at least 218 people, wounded thousands, and decimated entire neighbourhoods.Six years later, the tragedy remains an open wound, with grieving families waging a relentless legal battle against a deeply entrenched political establishment to uncover the truth.Ultimate sacrificeMinutes before the detonation, the Beirut-fire-brigade" class="entity-link entity-organization" data-entity-id="178055" data-entity-type="organization">Beirut Fire Brigade was dispatched to extinguish a blaze at the port’s Hangar 12. Among the crew were Sahar Fares, a nurse who had become the brigade’s first female operational member, and firefighter Joe Noun.Both rushed towards the fire, completely unaware that it would be their final mission. Six years on, their red helmets still hang at the fire station, symbolising a duty that cost them their lives.Yet, out of this immense tragedy, a resilient bond was forged. Brought together by shared pain and protests demanding accountability, William Noun, Joe’s brother, and Maria Fares, Sahar’s sister, married three years after the blast.Choosing to plant new roots in a scarred city, they recently welcomed two children, naming them Joe and Sahar.William told Al Jazeera that while the children brought long-absent laughter back to their home, they are not replacements for the fallen. “They gave the family new hope, but they cannot take the place of Joe and Sahar, because every person has their own irreplaceable presence,” he said.