Across the neighborhood, you can hear children crying. The whimpering of a little girl under the rubble of her house calls out to her father, who is trapped beneath the fallen wall of the house. “Baba,” she sobs. But her father cannot hear her, because he was killed in an instant. A boy, meanwhile, is begging his mother not to die under the rubble.
This is what is happening in Gaza right now.
If they are not killing our children, they are scarring the rest of their lives.
For the fifth consecutive day, it has come to the point where I fear, it will always be night in Gaza. As I look at my family's faces, I imagine that this may be the last night that we will spend together. I have experienced six mass Israeli assaults on Gaza, in addition to countless routine incursions and strikes. But the scene right now is more difficult than anything I have experienced.
Suddenly, as my family and I sit in the living room, dozens of Israeli airstrikes crash around my neighborhood, Tal-Elhawa, in the west of Gaza. I hear the entire house tremble. Dust rains from the ceiling. My niece screams. Her eyes fill with tears. The smoke of the bombing spreads everywhere. If you do not die from the direct bombing, you may die from smoke, falling structures, or traces of gas from internationally prohibited chemical weapons, . Last night, Israeli Occupation Forces used poisonous white phosphorus on civilians in the Karama neighborhood, north of the Gaza Strip, which is prohibited under international law.
The number of deaths has increased. Lives, families, stories of love, success, and injustice, are all buried together, under the rubble, with every innocent who was killed. Until now, the Occupation airstrikes have destroyed 168 buildings. More than 1,000 residential units were obliterated, while another 12,630 have been partially destroyed. Collectively, there have been over 1,055 people killed, including women and children, and 5,184 injured, according to Gaza’s Ministry of Health.
Genocide is being committed by Israel in Gaza, where entire generations of families have been wiped out, with civilians and homes being targetted by missile strikes and bombs. This technique is used by Israel to put pressure on the resistance and to create a health, economic, and psychological crisis among Gazans.
This picture taken on October 11, 2023 shows an aerial view of buildings destroyed by Israeli air strikes in the Jabalia camp for Palestinian refugees in Gaza City. (Photo by YAHYA HASSOUNA/AFP via Getty Images)
I am very worried that my family members will become the next victims because there is simply no safe home in Gaza. And we, after all, are who they want to kill: children, women, and defenseless civilians. The Israelis aim to wipe out as many Palestinians as possible, as they accelerate their ethnic cleansing.
Depression and trauma afflict every Palestinian who lives in the shadow of repeated Israeli wars on Gaza. There’s fear as we wait out the nights, waiting for death, waiting to learn who is the next victim. There’s terror as we follow the news 24 hours a day, messaging our friends and loved ones. The worst thing about this aggression is that the Israeli regime has fully cut off electricity, internet, food, and water supplies, causing a media blackout. Fuel has run out, generators will stop working, and the sliver of connection to the world some have on their phones will soon disappear. They even bombed the Rafah border crossing with Egypt in the southern Gaza Strip, preventing thousands from returning or leaving, and preventing medical supplies from entering. Nobody is able to move.
As a journalist in Gaza, I can clearly see that Israel is intent on killing us and keeping us silent. It doesn’t want local media to show these war crimes: the Israelis want to hide the truth about their cruelty from the world.
Due to the blackouts of electricity and internet, Gaza is further cut off from the rest of the world. Even the international press or international human rights organizations have so far been unable to enter the Gaza Strip, or even communicate with their teams on the ground. For instance, the Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor — an organization based in Switzerland — announced that it had lost contact with its employees in Gaza. The only way to access the besieged Strip is through the Rafah crossing, which has been destroyed by the Israeli Occupation Forces.
Gaza is not an easy place to live. Maintaining one's mental balance requires a huge amount of effort. It is war. It takes our soul and our youth: it never minds if it will take our future and our dreams. In Gaza, we can't dream. War does not allow us to dream. “The dream turned to ashes” — this is what my friend Ahmed said when the Israeli forces bombed his family’s store.
Days and years pass slowly, but memories of Israeli oppression and the pain inflicted by their violence are what will make us grow old. Their bombs have taken our souls from our bodies. We do not like their war, and we will never get used to their war, but their war is well-accustomed to us.
There are many untold stories from more than two million people living in Gaza. This is only a snapshot of the story of a young man, who is surviving this aggression for another day.