A picture provided by Mr. Ahmadieh,
It’s only been a week since Bambi arrived in Beirut. Thus far, she either re-connected with or met amazing new people. One of the latter are two most amazing and highly competent nurses, including the inspiring and multi-talented Mr. Khodor Ahmadieh.
Highly professional yet approachable, chatting with Mr. Ahmadieh has been enriching for Bambi at many levels. Indeed, she appreciates his character as well as his devotion to nursing care, humanity, critical thinking, spirituality, creativity, and artistic talent. His wisdom, philosophy of life, and drive are contagious. It is both reassuring and refreshing to witness firsthand his highly competent, professional, and uplifting care for his patients, colleagues, family, nephews/nieces, friends, and fellow community members.
At the creative level, despite his highly busy workload at the emergency room (ER), he takes the time to bring smiles to his peers and eventually social media followers. If you are interested, you can watch three of his public short videos. He has an impressive number of online followers who appreciate him as much as those who are lucky to also know him offline. How could they not to when he is filled with both authenticity and humanity? Of note, the last video you will see shows him acting in a Lebanese movie, Bride of Beirut [“Arouss Beirut”], shot in Turkey. Wow, bravo!
In addition to the artistic side above, Mr. Ahmadieh is gifted in cooking, bravo too and mmm! He is also skilled in food inspection and safety. Furthermore, he is knowledgeable in history of religions and surely in his own spirituality in the most inspiring ways (this would deserve a post in itself). Regardless of any particular talent, it is Bambi’s hope that he will keep his drive alive. With the latter, may he remain true to himself, grounded in his own sense of self while being connected to others and to the universe in uplifting ways.
To come back to his nursing core values, Mr. Ahmadieh has high works ethics. Above all, he is gifted in honouring patient dignity and treating them with kindness, along with a remarkable competence. There is a reason why everyone appreciates and loves him, including Bambi’s dad. May he keep hanging on to his beautiful values and congruent decision-making in his professional as well as personal life. Lebanon, and by extension the entire world, needs both emotionally and spiritually intelligent young people like him.
Indeed, it is precisely those human qualities described above, that made him rush, within minutes only, from his village in the mountains to Beirut where the tragedy of August 4, 2020 took place. He made it to the capital to offer his assistance. Even if his residence is geographically far from the capital (by the standards of Lebanon, not Canada), the sound of the explosion was heard in his village. Indeed, it was extremely scary to the point of thinking that the blast occurred at his neighbour’s place.
Upon reaching Beirut, just like in horror movies with apocalyptic scenes, he saw a chaotic level of destruction to the point that he had to leave his car far away from his destination. He rushed walking on his feet and finally made it to the hospital where he used to work back then. What did he see upon his arrival and what happened next, you may wonder dear readers? We will hear his story, with his own words, in the following paragraphs. Please stay tuned until then end of this post.
Along with three other hospitals, the institution in question was totally destroyed. The 300+ inpatients had to be evacuated it safely ASAP in the total darkness due to the loss of power. At first, no one knew exactly what was happening until they heard about the detonation of an estimated 2750 tons of ammonium nitrate, stored for six years at the nearby port without safety measures.
As a reminder, the Beirut surreal explosion resulted in more than 220+ deaths. There were also 7500 injuries, 300, 000 homeless people, 150+ permanent disabilities, over 3/4 of massive destruction of Lebanon’s capital, destruction of 4 hospitals as reported above, and US$15, 000, 000, 000 worth of damage.
During their spontaneous chat about the Beirut blast, among other emotionally charged topics like the latest war, Bambi was touched by Mr. Ahmadieh’s insights filled with humanity. She was very impressed by the story of the highly organised hospital evacuation. Of course, she immediately invited him to be interviewed by her for her blog. Being a generous soul with an open mind, he accepted her invitation on the spot. Gratefully, Bambi will now share with you the verbatim of their conversation. She hopes you will learn something deep about human nature from it, like she did.
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Good morning, Mr. Ahmadieh. Bambi is honoured to chat with you about the collective trauma of the 4th of August, 2020, namely the evacuation process of the hospital where you used to work. Many thanks for opening your heart to this blog’s readers.
“Good morning Ms. Bambi,
Thank you so much for this space to share my story. It’s not easy to put these memories into words, but I believe speaking from the heart helps us connect as human beings. I hope my answers not only paint a picture of what happened but also honor the lives touched, the pain felt, and the resilience born that day“.
1. It is Bambi’s understanding that on the 4th of August, 2020, you were not on duty. What can you tell us about where you were when the blast occurred? And how did you live this moment in terms of thoughts, emotions, actions?
“I was at home, in my room, resting after lunch, when the world seemed to shake beneath me. I jolted awake, confused — the kind of confusion that sinks deep in your chest before your mind even understands. At first, I thought it was something local, maybe a small accident. But as the noise reached me, as the fear crept in, I realized something terrible had happened.
When I saw the message about my bleeding colleague, my heart squeezed in panic. I felt a pull — a pull stronger than fear, stronger than logic — a pull to be there, at the hospital, where my hands and heart were needed. I left my worried mother behind and drove, not thinking about my own safety, only feeling the urgency to help”.
2. How would you describe both what you saw and what went on your mind when you reached Beirut and eventually your place of work?
“Driving into Beirut was like driving into a nightmare. Destruction everywhere. Buildings gutted, streets shattered, people crying and bleeding, desperately seeking help. I remember thinking, Where is the center of this destruction? But it was everywhere.
When I couldn’t drive any further, I ran. I ran over glass, over blood, hearing screams, seeing faces twisted in pain. And yet inside, I felt numb — like my body had entered survival mode, suppressing the terror, just focusing on getting to the hospital, where I could do something, anything, to help”.
3. Please tell us about the evacuation process, describing the plan, conditions, challenges, etc.?
“Inside the dark hospital, we climbed up to the ninth floor, guided only by flashlights, stepping over collapsed ceilings, broken walls, and shattered equipment. The smell of blood was everywhere, the air thick with dust and grief.
We carried patients down the stairs on bed sheets, arms burning, pockets stuffed with medical supplies. It was a race against time, but also a battle against heartbreak — because every floor held more devastation, every face we passed reflected fear or pain or, worse, lifelessness.
The ICU patients were the hardest to move, attached to life-saving machines, fragile in every breath. We had to wait for the Civil Defense to extract them through windows — it was agony, knowing we couldn’t help them as fast as we wanted“.
4. What were some of the unforgettable moments of the evacuation process?
“There’s one image I will never erase from my mind: a body, sitting quietly against the wall, as if peacefully resting — but gone.
And the cruellest moments were when we ran to someone, thinking we could save them, only to realize it was too late. I had to force myself to look away, to silence the part of my heart that wanted to mourn, and focus instead on those still clinging to life.
But even in the darkness, there were small, shining moments — strangers helping strangers, colleagues holding each other up, a quiet understanding that we were all in this together, doing the impossible, side by side”.
5. Were there any lessons learned from the hospital evacuation process?
“I learned that no matter how prepared you think you are, disaster tests you in ways you never imagined. But I also learned that teamwork, clear communication, and a shared sense of purpose can turn chaos into action.
And perhaps the hardest lesson: you can’t save everyone. As painful as it is, you have to let go of what’s beyond your control, and pour your strength into where you can make a difference. That is the harsh, heartbreaking truth of crisis work”.
6. What can you tell us about your ways of coping with the challenging conditions that stemmed from the Beirut explosion, on that day and later?
“For a long time, I carried guilt — a deep, gnawing guilt, even though I knew rationally it wasn’t my fault. I kept replaying the night in my head, wondering if I should have done more, been faster, been stronger.
What helped was speaking with my colleagues, realizing I wasn’t alone in my pain. We held each other up, shared our grief, and slowly, together, began to heal. I also found solace in quiet moments — in prayer, in reflection, in allowing myself to cry when I needed to. Healing doesn’t come all at once; it comes in small, fragile steps, and I’m still walking that path”.
7. How did the Beirut explosion impact you (yourself, your life, and/or work)?
“It changed everything. It deepened my understanding of human fragility — and human resilience. It made me cherish my family more, hold my loved ones closer, and never take a single day for granted.
In my work, it sharpened my sense of purpose. Every patient I touch, every life I encounter, I now approach with even more tenderness, knowing how suddenly it all can slip away.
And inside myself, I carry both a scar and a flame: a scar from the pain, but a flame of determination, to keep serving, to keep loving, to keep living fully despite the sorrow”.
8. If you had the chance to end our chat with a few words specifically meant to the readers of the Bambi’s Afkar blog who may have not had the chance to visit Beirut (yet), what would you tell them about the Lebanese capital and/or your country’s people?
“To those who have never been to Beirut: know this — Beirut is a city of fire and flowers, of scars and smiles, of heartbreak and hope.
We are a people who have suffered, yes, but we are also a people who rise, again and again, who open our arms to strangers, who dance at weddings even when our hearts are heavy, who share our last piece of bread with a guest.
Come see us not just for the history or the landmarks, but for the soul — the soul that refuses to break, the soul that welcomes you like family, the soul that keeps singing even when the world crumbles”.
“Thank you, Ms. Bambi, for giving me the space to speak from my heart. May we all remember: even in the darkest night, the human spirit can shine”.
Bambi is speechless. Thank you for your time, for the inspiration, and for being who you are, Mr. Ahmadieh or dear Khodor. What a beautiful soul. Please keep on serving and healing the world with your uplifting compassion and inspiring care. Take good care, please. May God bless and always protect you, along with your loved ones.
