That night was not like any ordinary night. It was the night of judgment, the night when life suffocated, and time stopped for everything except death. On the night of August 21, 2013, when the Assad regime targeted the neighborhoods of Eastern Ghouta with Chemical Warfare, it was not just a crime; it was the ugliest form of genocide.
Every year, on November 30, the world pauses for a moment of reflection and mourning on the International Day of Remembrance for All Victims of Chemical Warfare. It is a day that reminds us of the devastating impact of this deadly weapon.
Chemical weapons are not mere tools of war; they transcend that to become instruments of genocide and terror.
I still remember that night—between 1,400 and 1,500 people in a matter of hours. No blood was spilt, but the air itself became deadly. Victims died breathing poison, most of them while sleeping, and entire families were wiped off the face of the earth. The graves were not enough for them, so mass graves became necessary. Those who survived were not truly survivors; the memory suffocated whatever remained of their souls.
Imagine facing a death you don’t know where to escape from. The air itself is your enemy. There are no shelters to protect you, no treatment capable of saving you. Today, as we remember the victims of chemical weapons, we recall Eastern Ghouta and all those who lived through that night.
It is not enough to grieve and mourn the victims of these atrocities. We must stand united to hold those responsible accountable and ensure justice is served. We must also work to raise awareness about the importance of eliminating all forms of chemical weapons and enforce international treaties with rigor and transparency.
Let us be the voice of the voiceless and carry the message of humanity: that human life is more precious than any conflict, and that the use of chemical weapons is a stain of shame that has no place in a world striving for peace.
