Lebanon: Photojournalist survives drone and missile strikes that killed colleague

Zeinab Faraj, a 21-year-old photojournalist, survived a series of drone and missile strikes in southern Lebanon that killed her 42-year-old colleague, Amal Khalil. The attacks occurred on April 22, shortly after Israel agreed to a ceasefire in the region following a month of intense airstrikes. Faraj and Khalil had been traveling to the village of al-Tiri to document the destruction left by the conflict.

The two women had collaborated on several assignments after Khalil contacted Faraj regarding her social media work. Faraj, who was freelancing while completing a degree in radio and television, described the initial trip as routine. She stated that she felt no fear despite audible gunfire and artillery, viewing the sounds as elements a videographer would want to capture. They were accompanied in a separate vehicle by Ali Nabil Bazzi, a 27-year-old municipal official from Bint Jbeil, and Mohammed Hourani, a 37-year-old friend of the mayor.

Faraj said she did not hear the initial missile impact. She recalled hearing Khalil scream and observing the car ahead of them engulfed in flames. Faraj attempted to pull Bazzi from the wreckage, but Khalil insisted the men were gone. Faraj later confirmed seeing their bodies severely damaged. Drones then arrived, flying at low altitudes. Faraj described one drone coming so close to her face that she tried to cover it, only for it to rise again when she did.

Emergency services told the women that help was on the way, a promise Faraj said acted like an anaesthetic. A paramedic instructed them to drive back up the road because ambulances were blocked. As they tried to enter their vehicle, a missile struck the car, throwing both women backward. Khalil wrapped her arms around Faraj, hoping the drone would think they were dead. They took shelter in a nearby house, where Khalil, injured on the face, hand, and leg, could not move. Faraj sent her sister a final message before her phone battery died, writing, "There's no hope left. Forgive me."

Faraj woke up trapped under rubble with difficulty breathing. A paramedic held her by the shoulders, and she begged him not to leave. A second paramedic cleared the debris, and they pulled her out as drones returned. Faraj reported that a stun grenade was dropped by a drone during the rescue. In the ambulance, she mistook the engine noise for a drone. At the hospital, nurses initially reassured her about Khalil's condition before falling silent. Khalil is believed to have died about an hour before paramedics were allowed back into the area.

The Israeli military stated it had identified saboteurs violating the ceasefire. Human rights groups labeled the attack a war crime, noting that the military received repeated messages requesting permission for a rescue while the women were sheltering. A week prior to the incident, an Israeli military spokesperson shared a video of Khalil published by her newspaper and labeled it terrorist media. Khalil had also received death threats from Israeli phone numbers.

Faraj is now preparing to return to university, though she still struggles to walk properly. She has a visibly injured hand, and a facial injury has affected the movement of one eyebrow. She said she loses her sense of movement at night, waking up screaming. Drones and warplanes continue to put her on edge. Whether she will return to frontline journalism remains uncertain. She said she is haunted by the sight of Hourani on the ground, his eyes open and looking at her.