Navigating the road of his native village in Jbeil, North Lebanon, on his Harley-Davidson motorbike, with tattooed arms and a Lebanese flag flapping in the wind behind him, William Noun, 28, doesn't look the type of person who gives up easily.
Some say looks can be deceiving but in his case this couldn't be further from the truth.
Three years have passed since the fatal Beirut blast but Mr Noun’s fight for justice and determination is unwavering.
“We will not find peace until we get justice”, he told The National.
Three years after Beirut blast, William Noun fights for justice for his brother and his city
As an eternal tribute, a tattoo on his arm depicts the face of his brother Joe, one of numerous firefighters who lost their lives on August 4, 2020, in one of the world's largest non-nuclear blasts that killed more than 220 people and reduced large parts of the capital to ruins.
The disaster resulted from a stockpile of ammonium nitrate fertiliser that had been stored improperly in a port warehouse for more than six years before catching fire and detonating.
Mr Noun is one of the most prominent figures representing the families of the victims, garnering affection and admiration among Lebanese people for his straightforward speeches.
The young man has been an outspoken critic of how authorities have obstructed the port investigation, publicly condemning those involved, regardless of how powerful they are.
In hushed tones in the small chapel the family built after the explosion, he recalls the memories he shared with his brother.
Inside is a display of pictures and items relating to Joe, including his firefighter's uniform and his first communion attire – the Nouns are fervently religious.
Mr Noun said he visits the chapel every morning, where he takes a moment to pray that Joe “is in a good place, that he sees us and that he is happy".
Mr Noun works at the family restaurant in the village. Joe had been a firefighter since 2018. The pair were inseparable.
“We were doing everything together, people thought we were twins", Mr Noun said.
Haunting scenes
Mr Noun describes Joe as a strong and joyful man who knew how to live life to the fullest. Through photos and videos, he relives for a moment those cherished memories of his brother – surprise birthday parties, family bonding. That is, until the very last picture taken of Joe.
The photo shows him attempting to open the door of hangar 12 in a bid to extinguish the fire barely one minute before the explosion.
After the blast, Mr Noun rushed from his village to Beirut's port to provide assistance as a voluntary member of the civil defence. Knowing that his brother was stationed close to the port, he tried desperately to call him, until a friend informed him that Joe had been sent to put out the fire.
The family kept looking for him for days.
"I couldn't process what was happening," Mr Noun said, his eyes shining with emotions.
The harrowing scenes he witnessed at the port, with mutilated bodies and scenes of devastation, haunted him for months.
"I couldn't sleep," he said, and it took a long process of healing to cope with the trauma.
"After a few months, I realised I needed to get my head straight to be able to focus on the investigation,” he said.
A fight for justice
Since then, his determination has never left him.
“The very first day we knew the investigation in Lebanon would take time,” he said.
Judge Tarek Bitar’s domestic investigation into the port explosion has come to a halt due to legal measures taken against him from powerful Lebanese figures, who were sought for questioning.
As it became clear the inquiry would not deliver justice, Mr Noun and victims' families have called for an international UN fact-finding mission.
Despite the obstacles, Mr Noun stays hopeful, stressing that "the details of the investigation are mostly clear", including the name of the "importer company", the officials "responsible for the port" and those "using the ammonium nitrate".
While no senior officials have been held accountable, Mr Noun has been arrested six times, most recently in January after he voiced his frustration on TV over perceived obstruction of the probe, threatening to "blow up the Justice Palace".
"Some people get away with killing others, escaping accountability, while others, including myself, are held accountable for reacting to the injustices done to us," Mr Noun said.
His travel ban has just been lifted but he said there are still charges pending against him.
“That’s what happens in Lebanon when you speak up,” he said.
Mr Noun is not afraid, not even of Hezbollah, the powerful Iran-backed militia and political party he said was threatening the families of the victims to silence them.
Hezbollah has had a significant influence over the port for a long time and has notably faced accusations of using it for its own interests.
Mr Noun said the pressure was such that families living in Hezbollah-controlled areas had to distance themselves from families of the victims.
"It encourages me to speak up even more," he said.
Finding a way
Mr Noun said praying and therapy have helped him to cope with grief. Throughout his difficult healing process, he found love with a local woman, Maria Fares, whom he met at a therapy session.
Ms Fares's sister, a paramedic who used to work with Joe, was among the firefighters sent to fight the port fire.
"She understands me," Mr Noun said.
"We share the same thoughts and same experiences of what happened."
Mr Noun and Ms Fares are planning to marry next month.
After their wedding, the couple will move to a house that Joe was building, which they are currently renovating, beside the chapel and adorned with small cedars, planted in tribute to Joe after the explosion.
"It's the symbol of Lebanon and of eternal life", Mr Noun said.
