Dreams broken, displaced and rebuilt: Beirut's creatives reflect five years after the blast

The National

a day ago

'It was impossible not to be impacted by the Beirut explosion,' says Sarah Hermez, co-founder of Creative Space Beirut (CSB). The free fashion school was founded in 2011 to offer high-quality design education to underprivileged Lebanese youth.
By the time the Beirut Port blast hit in 2020, CSB had already weathered the 2019 financial collapse, the protests that followed, and the challenges of a pandemic-stricken world.
With classes paused due to Covid-19, CSB had pivoted to producing isolation gowns for hospitals. On August 4, 10 people were working at the space located in Beirut Souks, directly across the harbour from the port. The building was decimated. Miraculously, no one was harmed.
'We were so lucky,' says Hermez. 'We were covered in dust, but none of us had a scratch. It was surreal.'
Fashion designer Georges Chakra, whose studio is 10km from the port in Jal El Dib, wasn't as lucky. 'The atelier was damaged, several team members were injured and a very loved colleague passed away,' he says. 'It was also heartbreaking how many had their homes destroyed.'
After the initial shock, his focus shifted to his staff. 'We checked in with everyone living nearby, made sure they had medical care, shelter, whatever they needed. Some couldn't return right away. The hardest part was helping the team feel safe again.'
In the aftermath, Hermez recalls 'the sound of glass', as survivors crunched over the debris of their former lives. 'It felt like our lives exploded. Our homes, our safe spaces, everything we knew was destroyed.'
The psychological toll of the aftermath was immense. 'Looking at destruction for that long does something to your brain,' Hermez says. 'At the time, it felt like this was going to be life forever.'
Staying put no longer felt viable. 'We didn't know if there would be another explosion – we just knew we had to get out,' she says. Though they initially looked to relocate to the safety of Lebanon's mountains, they eventually found a new place in the city – staying true to the Beirut in their name.
Roni Helou, one of Lebanon's most promising young designers – and a CSB alumnus – was also among those caught in the blast's ripple effect. A winner of Fashion Trust Arabia's 2019 prize, Helou was preparing to rapidly expand his brand when the explosion hit. With his prize money frozen due to the banking crisis, he had sunk what little remained into the business.
'Then the blast happened and we went back to zero,' he says.
A supporter of the 2019 revolution, Helou had believed in a better Lebanon. 'I thought we could change things. But the explosion felt like a slap. I realised we never would. For the first time, I considered leaving.'
He turned to Sheikha Al Mayassa bint Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, chair of Qatar Museums and a key figure behind Doha's M7 creative hub, along with Fashion Trust Arabia's co-chair Tania Fares. Together, they helped Helou relocate his family to Doha, and brought him on as a strategist at M7, supporting local designers.
'Honestly, it took two or three years to make peace with Lebanon,' Helou admits. 'I was holding a grudge. I didn't think I'd ever come back.'
For Hermez, leaving was never an option. 'This is where I'm from. I don't know where I'd go. Creative Space came from a desire to merge creativity with social justice, and that's still what keeps me going.'
She watched many of her community leave in the blast's wake. 'In the span of a week, I think 80 per cent of our friends picked up and left the country. Any sense of community – culture, art, fashion, creativity, music – that defined Lebanon all of a sudden diminished.'
Still, Hermez held on. 'Working every day towards something you believe in gives you the strength to keep going.'
That perseverance paid off. In 2024, CSB staged its first graduation show since 2018 – interrupted by five years of cascading crises. More than 100 volunteers helped bring the show to life. 'The students have been through so much,' Hermez says. 'It was a beautiful moment.'
With 500 guests in attendance, the night reflected her enduring optimism. 'In Lebanon, you take a few steps forward, then get pulled ten back. What keeps me personally going is that there's so much creativity and talent in Lebanon that goes untapped.'
Meanwhile, now settled in Qatar and with his brand on hiatus, Helou is focusing his energy on the business side of the industry. 'I think I'm more of an entrepreneur, as I have these ideas that I want to bring to life. I'm working on a project that is not related to fashion, it's more about gaming and marketing. I'm rediscovering myself. It's funny because I had to leave Lebanon to do that.'
Helou is also helping to build a vocational school in Doha that will teach design, architecture, graphic design and film, developed in collaboration with Hermez and CSB.
'I've had a moment to reflect on Roni the person, not just the brand, and I feel like I would have never have got that in Lebanon. I also don't think I would have got the opportunities I have in Doha if I had stayed in Lebanon. It's sad to say, but I needed the explosion to break the bond, to push me out of my comfort zone.'
Chakra, who has returned to showing in Paris, agrees the scars remain. 'No one lives through something that insane without being affected. Beirut has always had to rebuild – I doubt this will be the last time. Resilience is part of daily life.
'Beirut never stops,' he adds. 'No matter what it endures, the city always finds a way to keep going.'
For Hermez, the mission remains clear: nurturing the next generation of Lebanese creatives. 'For us, it's about why creative and cultural institutions should continue to exist during times of hardship. These spaces allow people to continue to have a voice and to dream. If these institutions shut down and people no longer have an outlet to create, then what do you have left in the country?'