Explosions reverberate as a plume of smoke rises on the edge of Nabatieh in south Lebanon. It was still Tuesday morning, but in that time the Israeli army had already launched nearly a dozen artillery strikes towards the edge of the city.
First, comes the crack as the projectile is launched; then moments later the thud as the Israeli shell crashes into the edge of Nabatieh, a city still reeling and covered in a cloud of thick dust from the continuous bombardment.
Lebanon and the wider region are supposed to be in a ceasefire, but Nabatieh resembles a city right on the front lines of a war still raging. The Israeli military has shown no intention of immediately withdrawing from the dozens of towns it occupies in south Lebanon or its forward positions, which reach into the suburbs of Nabatieh.
Israel invaded and occupied an area covering roughly 7 per cent of southern Lebanon during the war, completely razing many border villages as part of what it described as a “security zone” to protect communities in northern Israel.
In Nabatieh, some people are coming back, but they are returning to scenes of almost unparalleled devastation. The famed old city and its indoor market are a mangled, dusty wreck. It’s impossible to walk through without a mask, such is the extent of the destruction.
Some are returning for the first time, tears in their eyes, with mattresses tied on top. “Can I even pass?” asks one returnee, as he surveys the debris on the narrow roads.
The old city is still on fire. Thick grey dust sticks to everything. The only small section that was not fully destroyed was a part of the old city that was only partially rebuilt from the 2024 war, before the latest round of conflict erupted and paused that.
At the end of the souk’s narrow alley, 54-year-old Kamal Faran stares at a pile of rubble. This is all that remains of his house. He has not only lost a cherished family home, he says, but also “his best memories”, the only place where he felt safe. His wife collapsed in tears when she saw years of their life reduced to dust. Still, he came back, but alone.
“We will rebuild,” he says. “But not now, the situation is still unstable,” he adds, as the nearby sound of shelling from the “no-go” zones once again fills the air.
Like Mr Faran, many have made the journey south only to find their houses levelled. Even for the luckier ones, those whose houses are still fully or partially standing, the city remains uninhabitable. In Nabatieh, there is no water, no electricity and no phone network.
Joy and grief
“The last three weeks were extremely hard, just walking in the streets would make you a target,” rescuer Mohamed Suleiman, from the Nabatieh ambulance service, said as he handed out humanitarian boxes.
The scene is a painful reflection of how his son Joud was killed in the line of duty. The young paramedic was struck by an Israeli drone while delivering food aid to locals.
The city’s Civil Defence, described as heroes by residents, have never left, even during the peak of the war and even as it has lost many of its members to Israeli attacks. “We finished our duty during the war and now are continuing our humanitarian mission during the truce,” paramedic Mahdi Salloum says.
With tears in their eyes, a couple embraced Mr Suleiman. They were the parents of rescuers and have not seen their children since the war. Relief, joy and grief mingle among the small crowd gathered at the centre.
Paramedics are preparing the area for Ashoura, a deeply emotional commemoration for the Shiite community. They say the venue, which has been heavily damaged by an Israeli strike, will be ready for the commemoration on Tuesday. “We’re happy to be able to commemorate it, but sad to do so without our friends who were killed, who were always with us on this day,” Mr Salloum said.
A long road ahead
Rescuers have begun clearing the road, but a much longer one lies ahead. Many people cannot return to their homes. The Israelis have opened fire on anyone approaching areas they are in control of.
Israel's continued presence and military operations in southern Lebanon have prevented many of the 1.2 million displaced people from returning home. It remains a sticking point in the US-Iran interim agreement announced on Sunday, which has largely halted months of fighting between Hezbollah and Israel. The war resumed on March 2, when Hezbollah launched rockets into Israel in support of Iran. The large-scale Israeli offensive that followed has killed more than 3,600 people in Lebanon.
In Nabatieh, the Lebanese Army has blocked the left turn off that heads to Marjeyoun because Israelis remain on the way. The road then winds through the valley below the historic Beaufort Valley, where Israeli eyes continue to watch while evading Hezbollah's first-person drones, which have proved the biggest thorn in the side of the invading and occupying Israeli military.
At Civil Defence headquarters, which the Israelis destroyed during the war, Hussein Dakdouk, head of the Nabatieh Civil Defence branch, said “attacks are ongoing” in the outskirts of the city. At the facility, paramedics sort through what was left of their office. Little has survived; the only things that did were in the grey filing cabinet.
But then, hysterical laughter breaks out as one paramedic runs down holding a bag, before unzipping it. Remarkably, and to the great amusement of this band of brothers, one of the dummies they used to practice chest compressions did survive.
“This is what they said was our weapon,” one of them said with a smile on his face, as a laugh spread among his colleagues.
