“The wall of shame” is the name the whole nation has given the cement walls that are being built in Riad Solh as of this day, literally a day after the 17 October Lebanese Revolution hit its second month anniversary.
Massive concrete walls are being put in various intersections that lead to Riad El-Solh square. According to officials, these walls are being built to “protect” revolutionaries from thugs’ attacks and to “separate” the two parties so the peace remains. Because we all know so well how caring and thoughtful our politicians are.
Our politicians are so caring that they turned security forces into monsters attacking the people they are supposed to be protecting. They are so caring that they brainwashed youths into believing that the revolution for basic humans rights is the enemy and that they should fight it to protect themselves from it.
They are so caring that for two months they have spread all kinds of cruel and vicious rumors about the revolution, from prostitution in the tents of Riad El-Solh to accusing revolutionaries of treason and dealing with that which we all deem the enemy: Israel.
One twitter user wrote in a tweet mockingly, “That wall reminds of The Nobel Peace Prize Awards Ceremony,” in reference to many official statements accusing revolutionaries of causing riots, discriminative separations, and strife between the people.
Our politicians are building concrete walls, a day after constructing metal barriers in Nejmeh Square because they are so thoughtful of the sufferings of their people that they have not heard any of their cries for more than 60 days of revolting.
This is how empathetic they are, which is why we ought to believe that anything they do is actually to the people and for the people. However, “the wall of shame” will not divide the stubborn and proud Lebanese, and will definitely not separate us.
In fact, graffiti artists are so excited about these walls that they have been “calling dibs” on which block to take so they unleash on their creativity all day long. They are planning to paint at once the very last bit of these canvas until these walls actually deserve to have a place in the beautiful artistic Beirut.
As the cement blocks are numbered, graffiti artists have literally been booking the numbered walls for some painting shenanigans. “Wall numbers 23 and 4 are mine!” one artist says enthusiastically. “They said they’re claiming it but it really is a first come first serve gig,” another artist explains.
No matter how hard life kicks, Lebanese people will always remain standing, with a nargile in their hands and lots of jokes up their sleeves. We worry not about walls separating us. As long as our most beloved uniting dance is dabke, we are more than okay!
And we can’t wait to see what the creative minds of our graffiti artists will come up with on these walls!