Strikes a nerve

A hundred days and a hundred dead

A hundred days have passed since the explosion of August 4, and the families of the victims are demanding that the perpetrators know and hold them accountable on the shore of the port, where their relatives were killed and their dreams destroyed.

Reality still hurts them, fate awaits them, and responsibility hangs on the ropes of illusion, while we are waiting for the perpetrator and perpetrator to be held accountable, a free burning that may explode other yards and rob our loved ones again.

We are watching the sniper hidden under the cloak of politicians as he plays with our future and the future of our children, and after a hundred days there is no government, no actor, no result.

Shall we wait for a hundred days to come? Perhaps the riddle of the port ends with a holocaust scapegoat that may have been deliberately or deliberately killed, so that the truth would remain confidential.

How many premeditated explosions are we waiting for ??

How many faulty and fabricated maintenance sparks are we waiting yet ??

How many mistrustful government do we want yet ??

How many of the hundred dead and dead will be the days ahead yet ??


Janette Alkousa

The pen is her constant friend, and through some of her writings she gained the trust of Mr. Tannous, who saw in her the right person, as he found her cultural distinction and believed that she would complete a thirty-year-old cultural career. As for the principle that it chose to complement it (far from politics, close to home).

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