Houssein Hamzeh in his makeshift shelter for stray animals in Kfour, Nabatieh district, South Lebanon. (Photo sent by Houssein Hamzeh)
The drone's persistent hum has become as familiar to Houssein Hamzeh as the barking of the more than 200 dogs he tends to every day. In Kfour, a village in southern Lebanon's Nabatieh district, his Mashala Shelter is a sign of compassion and humanity amid the ravages of war."They are souls," Hamzeh says simply. His voice breaks, echoing the strain of recent weeks. "Some people make fun of me, but I believe all souls have the right to live, and God will judge us if we do not feed them and have mercy on them."As the war intensifies in the country, particularly in southern Lebanon, Hamzeh's shelter has become an unlikely sanctuary for animals caught in the crossfire. What began six years ago as a modest rescue operation has swelled into an emergency refuge, with the dog population alone jumping from 150 to over 200 since Sept. 23. Read...
The drone's persistent hum has become as familiar to Houssein Hamzeh as the barking of the more than 200 dogs he tends to every day. In Kfour, a village in southern Lebanon's Nabatieh district, his Mashala Shelter is a sign of compassion and humanity amid the ravages of war."They are souls," Hamzeh says simply. His voice breaks, echoing the strain of recent weeks. "Some people make fun of me, but I believe all souls have the right to live, and God will judge us if we do not feed them and have mercy on them."As the war intensifies in the country, particularly in southern Lebanon, Hamzeh's shelter has become an unlikely sanctuary for animals caught in the crossfire. What began six years ago as a modest rescue operation has swelled into an emergency refuge, with the dog population alone jumping from 150 to over 200 since Sept. 23. Read...
