My name is Marwa Abu Hatab, a resident of the Al-Shati (Beach) camp in Gaza. As renewed Israel assaults on Gaza began, my heart became heavy with the memories of past wars that have wreaked havoc on our lives, claimed our loved ones, destroyed our cherished possessions, and left our hearts shattered.
Despite the shock and darkness brought on by the relentless attacks that have ravaged our neighborhood, displacing many and reducing countless homes to rubble, we remain steadfast. Our decision to stay in our homes is not a testament to our bravery or others' cowardice, but rather a grim acceptance of the reality that no place in Gaza is truly safe. We’ve witnessed the horrifying fate of those who attempted to flee, their vehicles targeted and their lives extinguished in a blaze.
Our once Occupied area has now become a battlefield, subjected to violent bombings by the Israeli forces. Homes, clinics, and mosques have been reduced to debris. Innocent children have been robbed of their dreams in their sleep; we’ve been subjected to a massacre. Many of our friends and relatives have been forced to seek refuge in southern areas due to the incessant bombings.
Even if our homes remain standing, the psychological impacts of the Occupation weigh heavily on us. We feign laughter and suppress our tears because we’ve cried too much and there are no tears left. Fear has taken root in our hearts as we grapple with the senseless violence inflicted upon us.
I am deeply saddened by what remains of our world and by the deafening silence from organizations that continue to propagate the narratives of the oppressor. I yearn for our voices to echo across the globe with the truth, reaching out to those who seek it.