Inside a classroom turned shelter in Beirut, 60-year-old Mustafa Zaraid sits beside his wife Haifa, their few belongings scattered on the ground where students once studied.

Around them, clothes hang from windows and children play in the school yard, trying to hold on to some sense of normal life.

Mustafa, a former food distributor and father of four, had already lost one home in southern Lebanon a year and four months ago. After returning during a ceasefire, he rebuilt his life in Beirut's southern suburbs in his second house, only to lose everything again, his house, his warehouse, and the truck he depended on.

More than one million people have fled their homes and another 1,200 have been killed in Israeli strikes since March 2, when Lebanese armed group Hezbollah pulled Lebanon into the regional conflict by firing into Israel.

About 136,000 people are now living in collective shelters, and the rest are either staying with loved ones or, in rare cases, on the streets. 

 Sitting quietly with his hookah, he reflects, “We’ve lived our whole lives… in war. There hasn’t been a single day of rest. We came hoping to settle down, but now everything is gone.”

 Born in Nabatieh, southern Lebanon, Haifa recalls the night everything changed.

 “It’s a terrifying and sad feeling. An entire life’s work, in an instance, in the blink of an eye, turns to dust” said the 56 year old. 

 For Haifa, the loss is more than just walls and belongings:

“Our children’s whole childhood… all of that was lost in a second, in blink of an eye.”

Despite the grief, she holds on to what matters most, “Nothing is more precious than life… we are willing to sit on the ground, as long as our land is returned to us… because land and dignity cannot be separated.”

Production : Jihed Abidellaoui, Emilie Madi/Reuters