Sleep is not only a biological function but a political condition—structured, disrupted, and often obliterated by the machinery of occupation. In South Lebanon, settler colonialism wages war on the night through aerial surveillance, bombardment, the dismantling of ecological and temporal rhythms, and the severing of rest from land, seasonality, and communal life. Stillness, in this context, ceases to be neutral. The night becomes a contested space of both vulnerability and imagination. Architecture shelters sleep, and sleep becomes a quiet, ongoing refusal to let empire define the boundaries of life and dream.