The overwhelming need for basics like food, shelter, toilets and clean water mean the risk of Covid-19 is far from the minds of many desperate people.
Doctors and nurses were already working to the bone before the explosion. Now the hospitals that even survived are in even more chaos.
Even before the explosion, I’ve seen first-hand how Lebanon has been struggling with starvation, poverty and the coronavirus pandemic.
It’s keeping me going to remember how lucky we are – although we are facing difficulty, it’s nothing compared to people in refugee camps or in drought.
The death toll stands at more than 1,400 but the distinct smell of decomposing bodies tells you this figure is only set to rise
The Muslim Charities Forum (MCF) estimates that each year in Britain during Ramadan, Muslims give an estimated £100million to charities
You can see that the refugees are self-sufficient and stoic, and that they are determined to help themselves. While this independent spirit is essential in the chaos of the first few days, it will be down to NGOs like Islamic Relief, for the most part, to provide them with improved shelter units, water, sanitation and food.
I recently returned from spending a week in Somalia, where I saw first-hand the catastrophic effects that today's famine
Despite the incredible work I have witnessed when visiting the field responding to emergency situations and visiting long term development projects, I always feel a sense of powerlessness and helplessness. Even if I can't singlehandedly stop poverty, cure illnesses and build homes, but the least I can do is be the voice of those who can't speak for themselves.
Ramadan is a special season; for a Muslim charity the usual focus is on fundraising, where a charity can receive between a third and a half of its annual income. But for many working in the charity sector, it is a time where they reconcile their relationship between those in poverty, and their relationship with God.