Segolene Ragu – Story 3 | Nasri Sayegh on Taxi Karantina

During the war, from September to December, I was filming almost every day for Instagram on something I called ‘Taxi Karantina’—or ‘Radio Karantina.’ I named it ‘Taxi Karantina’ half-jokingly, but I let the joke remain even during the seriousness of war, which was brutal. I tried every day. That was me—I needed to document the city. It was mostly live, with listeners or people who tuned in—it was Radio Karantina during that time. Nearly all my drives were also a kind of archiving, a way of affirming that I’m still alive, that I can move from one area to another, that the camera is still here—even when some areas were a bit more dangerous. I needed to keep feeling the presence of the other. Because sometimes there’d be ten, twenty, or thirty people who would join in the conversation and look with me at the city—to see what’s left of it.

During wartime, we truly didn’t know where we were heading, especially with how far Zionist barbarism had advanced into the city. We saw what happened around us and especially in Gaza. We were living in this nightmare—what if this is the last shot? And not a shot as in an artistic photo or a search for beauty—no, it wasn’t about art. It was about existence. About connection with others. That this is our city, this is our country—not just ours, but a country for everyone who loves it. This is a Lebanese city. And this isn’t just about nationalism—this is emotional, it’s geographic. It stands against Zionist barbarism.