The relative calm of an October Saturday morning in Nabi Chit is at odds with recent events.
Two days before, the edge of the village in the eastern Bekaa Valley was bombed by Israel, part of a wave of attacks on a region that is still trying to recover from the Israel-Hezbollah war last year.
At one of the mosques, the facade bears images of Hezbollah’s secretary generals and Iran’s supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Near a side entrance, the town’s mayor Hani Al Moussawi greets The National as another delegation departs.
As the others get into a car, one man lingers behind. A day later, he would be identified as Hussein Al Moussawi, killed in an Israeli strike while driving nearby. Hezbollah would refer to him as a "commander" in a funeral notice, while the Israeli military would claim he was an important weapons procurer charged with smuggling arms from Syria to Lebanon.
Israel says its attacks are on Hezbollah members and alleged infrastructure. But it had also targeted businesses, schools and homes, unsettling a population fearful of returning to the dark days they hoped were behind them.
A year ago, the Bekaa Valley, where Iran-backed Hezbollah was founded in the 1980s, was pummelled as Israel expanded its war in southern Lebanon to the entire country. Twelve months since the ceasefire, the fertile valley that stretches between Lebanon’s mountains and the Syrian border is again under fire.
"Our people are used to such circumstances," said Mr Al Moussawi. "The world sees this brutality" yet "remains silent". He added that for decades, "the enemy has attacked repeatedly: before 1982, then in 1993, 1996, 2006 and now again."
Despite the escalating tension, Nabi Chit bustles on a Saturday morning late in the year. Cars and motorbikes weave through the narrow main street in stark contrast to a year ago, when much of the region was emptied after Israeli forced eviction orders across much of the valley.
Images of another notorious Hezbollah weapons procurer, Fouad Shukr, also dot the town. The top military commander was assassinated when Israel bombed his Beirut apartment last summer; he, too, came from Nabi Chit.
Focal point
Residents flock to the shops, moving on with life despite the escalating tensions.
“The air strikes affected the shops and the houses," said Hamza Al Moussawi, while cutting up meat with a large cleaver at his butcher shop, referring to Israeli attacks nearby two days earlier.
"During the last war, I came back to find everything destroyed, but we rebuilt and resumed work. We didn’t receive any compensation – only our people helped us, may God bless them," he explained, in reference to the war between Israel and Hezbollah. A November 2024 ceasefire brought to an end the bulk of the fighting, but Israel continues to occupy five points of Lebanese territory.
"We’re still waiting [for compensation]; I have four damaged machines, internal damage and broken solar panels," said the butcher.
Hezbollah was severely weakened by its most recent war with Israel, with its weapons stockpile badly depleted. Much of the remainder, especially the most powerful arms, is thought to be stored in the Bekaa Valley according to Israeli intelligence.
Israel also claims, while providing limited evidence, that the valley hosts several of Hezbollah’s most important training camps, including for its elite Radwan Forces. With fears growing of yet another Israeli operation in Lebanon, the Bekaa is widely viewed as a likely focal point.
Three days before Hussein Al Moussawi was killed, a series of Israeli raids hit several villages in the Bekaa, including Shmustar.
On its outskirts stands the local school. From the windows, children watched in terror as at least eight separate strikes slammed into the hills opposite. The blasts shattered the windows and caused other material damage, though no serious injuries were reported.
Shmustar's mayor Suhail Haj Hassan walks through the damaged school, void of children on a Saturday, as the clean-up crews get to work.
He said Israel had attempted to justify the air strikes by saying they were aimed at "alleged military targets, but the reality is clear: these are illusions. The bombardment targeted homes and schools.
"This is a matter for the international community and global institutions, which have allowed Israel to act freely, without oversight or accountability." On a normal day, he added, the school hosts about 1,000 children.
In central Shmustar, draped in Hezbollah banners and images of its former secretary general Hassan Nasrallah – killed last year in a massive Israeli strike on Beirut's southern suburbs – daily life continues despite the tension.
Further north on the motorway lies the famous city of Baalbek, home of Lebanon's most famous historic sites and the main city of the northern Bekaa.
A year ago, it emptied out as Israeli air strikes rained down on the city, including on the edge of its Roman ruins. The city itself has been spared the attacks of the villages and hills of the governorate; recent military activity has largely been from the Lebanese Armed Forces against local drug lords.
An Israeli strike last year destroyed an Ottoman-era building at the edge of the temple complex, now cordoned off for reconstruction.
'Baalbek is back'
Across the street, the historic Palmyra Hotel, which once hosted Charles de Gaulle and was forced to close for the first time in 150 years, has reopened. Nearby in the busy old souq, the Baalbek Cultural Council is also open.
Board member Mohannad Suleiman beams as he points towards the now-open temple gates and the revived market. "I was one of those who lived this experience directly. I didn't leave," he said of the war last year when Israel bombarded the area.
"I'm so happy people were able to overcome all these conflicts, all this suffering. I was worried it would take longer. But Baalbek is beating again with life. Baalbek is back to receive visitors".
But Mr Suleiman's optimism masks a harder truth. He was teaching an English class in Shmustar’s school when the nearby hills were struck. “It was a terrible day. The students cried; some fainted. I’m not saying we’ve become accustomed to this – of course not. But in Lebanon, we’ve lived through these problems since the 70s.”
Despite his relatively upbeat and pragmatic tone, he also concedes that many have not been able to return home or rebuild their houses.
Fadi Raad, a merchant from Baalbek, speaking from the city's souq, paints an altogether more damning picture.
"There’s a little bit of tourism that has returned to Baalbek, but it’s not like before. The people here are exhausted and the spirits are very low. The economy is very bad."
