An Israeli airstrike on buildings in Gaza City turns the sky bright with fire and smoke, after a day in which a surprise large-scale attack by Palestinian militants left at least 250 Israelis dead. More than 230 Palestinians have been killed. Eyad Baba/AFP via Getty Images

It was a crazy night. I can’t believe that we’re still alive. There are no words to describe what is really happening. The ugly truth is that Gaza never sleeps peacefully. We’ve had no calm during the 16 years of the Israeli siege.

All night we were bombarded by warplanes, artillery, and gunboats. Houses were demolished on the heads of children. Roads, trees, even ambulances were bombed. Nothing is allowed to move on the ground. Electricity, water, and internet are cut off most of the time.

We wake up in the morning and count our children, reassure our friends that we are still alive, check on the walls of our houses, and mourn our martyrs; one funeral after another.

The first martyr, the second, the tenth. All the faces seem familiar. I must have met them one day somewhere.

Actually we get tired of counting the martyrs, while our youth who are carrying them on their shoulders for the last time never tire of chanting for truth, justice, and freedom.