Everything here in Gaza is in danger of disappearing in just one moment. People are always scared and hesitant to have a family and children, build a house, plant a tree or even make simple plans to go out to work tomorrow. All their plans may fall apart and everything they have built over the years may collapse at any moment. This feeling of instability and the constant fear of losing your family and friends or home is very tiresome and almost unbearable.
Today I was planning to go to the Edward Said Library and the visit our kindergarten nutrition project. It would have been a long work day but instead I did nothing. I am following the news closely like all the people here and discussing with my brothers whether the Israeli aggression will continue. We wonder will it intensify? Will it be like the aggression of 2014 or 2008? If it gets worse what will we do?
Life has come to a standstill in Gaza. The streets were empty. Schools were closed, university exams were postponed and shops were closed.
I listen to the names of the martyrs and see their photos. By now I feel that their faces are familiar. The eyes of Abu Al-Atta children who lost both of their parents today hurt me. I understand this deep grief that is can’t be forgotten or healed.
This situation-the sounds of aerial bombardment, the humming of Israeli planes, the fear, uncertainty and the insecurity-exhausts me and makes me unable to think or write.