Whenever the former Governor of the Central Bank of Lebanon, Riad Salameh, is summoned for questioning he falls ill and is taken to a hospital instead of prison, where he receives treatment under the supervision of his private doctor — a special privilege no other detainee enjoys. His high blood pressure is portrayed as expected and natural given the charges he faces. Yet he engineered the financial policies that led to the collapse of the banking system, which has been described as a “Ponzi pyramid.” He helped banks accumulate extraordinary profits at the expense of draining depositors’ funds. That is why I called him “Lebanon’s Madoff,” likening him to Bernie Madoff, who carried out one of the largest financial frauds in history.

But, on the other hand,

How many Lebanese depositors saw their blood pressure rise after their lifetime savings were stolen in what has been called the crime of the century?

How many of them suffered strokes?

How many depositors died because they could not withdraw money from the banks to pay for medicine or treatment? These depositors were left to their fate; they faced injustice alone, without anyone defending their rights or championing their cause with honesty and fairness.

Seven years of depositors’ funds being withheld, and the Lebanese depositor pays the price for the biggest financial collapse the country has known.

Seven years of false promises, squandered rights, and bank doors slammed shut in the faces of those who own the money.

Seven years in which depositors died waiting to recover their funds, while others lost their homes, businesses, their children’s education, and their medical care.

Seven years of stalling, without any serious or fundamental solutions to restore depositors’ money and dignity after the banks humiliated them and deprived them of the right to use their savings.

In recent days rumors have circulated that Riad Salameh intends to end his life. If that is true, only one question remains: who benefits from his departure before he speaks? Who fears the full truth being exposed?

Today, former governor, you have moved from the seat of power to the seat of the accused. You are behind bars, but is it plausible that a collapse of this magnitude, with such complex financial policies and banking operations spanning many years, is the responsibility of one person alone? There are certainly partners from the velvet class. You surely know the truth — do not let it die with you. You were at the center of the scene; you know how decisions were made, who participated in them, who benefited, who covered up, who reaped huge profits, who amassed fortunes, and who moved their money in time while depositors were left to face their fate alone.

If you possess these facts, present them to the judiciary and to the public. Let the Lebanese know how the most dangerous financial chapter in their country’s history was managed and who bears responsibility, each according to his role, as proven by law. The depositor longs to see this corrupt system behind bars and to reclaim his rights.

Do not allow the account to remain incomplete, nor permit your silence to shield anyone who participated, benefited, or escaped accountability. There are those who still live freely, enjoying influence and wealth built on the depositor’s expense, while the depositor remains a prisoner of his frozen money and of seven years of waiting and humiliation.

Speak. Confess. Reveal the truth — who took part, who benefited, who covered it up, who signed, who remained silent. Say everything. Perhaps your confession will be the first step on the road to justice. Name names, expose the thieves, and provide the documents and facts you have. Let justice reach everyone proven to be involved, and do not allow those who shared power and wealth to savor their spoils and continue their lives as if nothing happened while thousands of depositors lost their lives and savings. Let the Lebanese know who was a partner, who was a witness, and who was a beneficiary. You are the only one who can give the depositor what he has been denied for seven years: the truth and the fruits of his life.

Riad Salameh!

Do not be the sole accused or the silent witness; if you are a scapegoat, reveal who handed you over to be slaughtered.

“Keep the morsel” — if you are going to leave, do not bury the truth with you.

History does not immortalize the silent; it remembers those who had the courage to speak the truth, however belatedly.

History shows no mercy to those who chose silence, just as it shows none to those who committed the acts. If you have one last word, let it be a word of truth written before it is too late.