When the power cut out in Libya’s Benghazi last week, Haitham Al-Ghoul dashed into the street with his five-year-old son, Othman to find somewhere to plug in a respirator to ease the child’s asthma attacks.
A viral photograph was posted of Al-Ghoul hugging Othman on the street, with the respirator hooked up to a shop’s private generator. It symbolised a power crisis that has infuriated Libyans across political divides.
“We suffer a lot from power cuts in Benghazi. I’m just one of many cases,” he said.
On Friday, protests against political institutions broke out on almost all sides of the messy conflict, as a result of anger over power outages and the numerous other failures of the country’s bickering factional leaders.
The largest such protest in years took place in Martyrs Square in Tripoli, where several hundred people took part. In Tobruk, demonstrators attacked the Parliament building, and set parts of it on fire.
The protests were called over the electrical shortage, despite the fact that there were other issues as well, demonstrating how minor annoyances can worsen in Libya’s unstable political environment.
Years of maintenance issues, battle damage, equipment theft, corruption, and more recently, an eastern blockade of oil facilities cutting off fuel supplies to power stations have plagued the power industry.
To open three more power stations this summer, the state electricity provider GECOL is collaborating with foreign contractors, but progress has lagged behind schedule. A sizeable yellow generator can be seen outside the main GECOL building in the heart of Tripoli, keeping the office operational during blackouts.
The grumble of private energy generators drowns out most other sounds, as they spew forth bitter smoke from their diesel engines during the sweltering summer nights when entire neighbourhoods of Tripoli tumble into darkness.
Even those who can afford generators find it difficult and expensive to purchase fuel, frequently standing in long lines. Power outages, which can occasionally last longer than 24 hours and frequently disable internet connectivity in entire districts, start to have an impact on nearly every area of daily life.
When the Four Seasons restaurant in Tripoli, which has no affiliation with the hotel chain, decided to give free, generator-powered workspace to students preparing for exams, it was inundated with young people carrying laptops and book bags.
“Generators need constant maintenance and I’m always scared it would be stolen,” said Aya Makki Sharif, an engineering technology professor who had brought her 11-year-old son Al-Zarrouk to the restaurant to work with him on his maths.
“When the electricity goes off, I feel like everything else stops,” she said.
At another table in the restaurant, politics student Dibaj Trabelsi said she only received two hours of power a day at home in the Salah Al-Din district, making it impossible to study in hot summer weather. “It affects my education,” she said.
Since Friday’s protests, Libya’s rival factions have accused each other of ultimate responsibility for the crisis, and promised to work to improve the situation.
“They promise us electricity every year. And there is nothing,” said Hussam bin Zaytoun, the owner of the Four Seasons restaurant.