A Lebanese family was holding a Sunday meeting when their building was destroyed in an Israeli strike.

Al-Baba said his sister, before she was killed, confided in him that she was worried about her beloved Shiite tenant, mainly because he was hosting guests. She feared he might be targeted by Israel and asked her brother if she should leave. She decided to stay because she had no idea where to go.

Neither al-Baba nor his sister knew anything about the tenant’s connection to Hezbollah.

The Israeli strikes raised fears among the Lebanese that their building could be hit because it was hosting someone who Israel claims, rightly or wrongly, to be linked to Hezbollah. Building administrations asked tenants to tell them the names of internally displaced persons. Some refused to accept people from the south.

The first strike hit the lower floors of the building around 4 p.m. Ramadan’s family was shocked, but did not think the building was collapsing. Only Ramadan’s wife, Jinan, ran up the stairs. A few moments passed, long enough for Ramadan’s son Achraf to bring his sister Julia a glass of water to calm her down.

Then the second missile hit. The building swayed and then collapsed.

Ramadan fell from the sofa, which, together with the closet standing next to it, protected him from the falling ceiling. Ashraf, a fitness trainer and former soldier, took cover under the doorframe. Julia fell to the floor.

For what seemed like two hours, all three communicated through the rubble. Ramadan said Julia was only two meters (yards) away, her voice weak but audible. He called for help using his mobile phone, which was still in his hands.

When help arrived, Achraf got out first; then his father, about six hours after the strike. In the chaos, they thought Julia had been pulled out. But rescuers returned and found the 28-year-old man dead. Her mother died in hospital from internal bleeding.

“I lost the cornerstone of my home: my wife, my partner and my friend,” Ramadan said. “I lost my daughter Yulia… She was my joy, my smile, my future.”

They are buried in unmarked graves in the section of the Sidon Cemetery dedicated to the victims of the construction of Ain el Delb.

As in the Gaza Strip, there are concerns that the number of civilian casualties is “quite high,” given that the intended military target is often unspecified or relatively small, said Rich Weir, senior conflict, crisis and weapons researcher at Human Rights Watch.

He said there had been “an increase in the scale of damage… the demolition of entire buildings in densely populated residential areas, posing an imminent risk to civilians.” Israel has also expanded the scope of its goals. strike on Hezbollah’s financial institutions, – he said.

Ramadan was not surprised that so many people were killed for one possible Hezbollah member. According to him, this has already happened.

“We heard on the news that the apartment came under fire. And people wonder who it was,” he said. “People don’t know. Israel knows.”

At the foot of the rubble of the building, Hesham al-Baba spent four hours in pitch darkness, pinned down with his legs tucked under him. The falling door broke two of his ribs. It was difficult to breathe. The only thing he could think about was that he might lose his legs.

“There was no blood flowing to my feet,” he said. “I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t move. I tried to stay strong. I don’t want to remember. It upsets me.”

Finally he heard movement: people removing bricks, a bulldozer. He started screaming. His lungs and chest hurt. They called him to shout louder. “I told them I couldn’t.”

Then a ray of light flashed through a hole in the darkness. Seeing him, the rescuer shouted: “What a way to get stuck! It’s worse than a coffin.”

Another four hours passed before rescuers pulled him out headfirst through the floor beneath him, covered in dust and soot.

The entire rescue operation took more than 43 hours. The Health Ministry put the death toll at 45, but Sidon’s civil defense chief Mohamed Arkadan said emergency workers had recovered 73 bodies from the rubble. Five bodies remain missing, he said.

Doctors told al-Baba that his ribs would heal over time.

But not his pain.

He said he would wear black for the rest of his life, mourning his sister. Past conflicts never stopped him from returning to Lebanon to visit his family. This time it may be a while before he returns.

“There will be no peace,” he said, thinking about his family’s tragedy and the wars in Lebanon and Gaza. “No one will bring me justice. Nobody.”