Pleading for an immediate and lasting ceasefire, an Islamic Relief worker* in Gaza laments over 100 days of suffering.
We recently passed the grim milestone of 100 days since Israel’s bombardment of Gaza began. At the time our colleagues in Gaza were unable to access the internet as Israel has repeatedly shut down telecommunications services in Gaza for days at a time. Our colleague wrote this blog at the time but was unable to share it until now.
As I write, we Palestinians in Gaza have lived 100 days of our lives in torture and suffering. I do not know when I will be able to send this account to my Islamic Relief colleagues to publish, so who knows how many more days of horror will have passed before you read these words.
These have been the worst days of my life. The worst days in Palestinian history. Almost 2 million people are being forced from their homes to live in the direst circumstances. They are deprived of even the basics for life: water, food, clothes, and shelter.
In 100 days around 23,000 people have been killed. That is not just a number. They are people who had hopes and dreams. Around 60,000 have been injured and 7,000 are still missing, perhaps somewhere under the rubble of destroyed houses. There are reports from the United Nations that 70% of residential units are either partially or totally damaged.
Who else needs to be killed, and what else needs to be destroyed for this brutal war to stop? How much more suffering does the world need to see before acting and asking for a ceasefire?
My daughter is desperate to go home
Yesterday, my daughter came to me, crying. She said, “I miss our home. I wish I could play with my toys.” Her tears choked me, and I almost cried too. I managed to tell her, in a broken voice, to keep praying to Allah that we return to our homes.
I can’t fulfill my daughter’s simplest wish: to go home. I never stop thinking and dreaming of that day when we return. I know we will go back to a destroyed city, but I would switch this displacement with almost anything.
I miss the comfort of my room. I miss reading my books. I miss the morning coffee. I miss hearing school children flock to their classes in the morning. I miss going to the sea with my wife and kids. I miss working with my Islamic Relief colleagues, in the office.
A waking nightmare
Having your life taken away from you is beyond imagination. This is unreal to me. I keep thinking maybe this is just a nightmare that we will wake up from. I wish it was.
I know after returning to our city we will suffer more. I have seen disturbing footage of the destroyed homes and demolished streets. There is a journalist I follow on social media who stayed in Gaza City during the land operation. He managed to get internet and he walks the streets filming the homes of people who are now displaced. People just want a photo showing that their house still stands. That is our hope.
People all over Gaza report that they do not have enough food or clean drinking water. My friend has a 2-year-old daughter and told me, “I carry empty bottles and walk for 2-4 km looking for clean water. We adults can handle thirst, but my daughter can’t”. It is sad that someone cannot bring their children water.
I do not know how these children are going to grow up believing in a fair and just world. These children are being deprived of their education, their right to play, their right to live in peace, to eat and be nourished. It is devastating.
What future do Palestinian children face?
My son was in the first grade of school, and before this war was learning the basics of writing and reading. He has missed so much time at school. When this is over, there will be few options for education, as many schools have been destroyed. Maybe my son won’t have another chance to properly learn how to read and write. Maybe his school has been destroyed. Maybe his future in this place is gone.
100 days, my dear readers.
I lost my home. My brother and my sister also lost their homes. My Islamic Relief colleagues have all suffered different losses. One colleague just bought a new home. She had been on a journey of finishing and decorating it. She spent 8 months selecting the paint, the curtains, the rugs, everything. Her flat and the whole building have been demolished – but she still has many years of payments to make in order to repay the bank loan she took out to buy it.
Almost everyone in Gaza has a similar story. For the past 100 days our lives have been bleeding out of our veins. Every day of this suffering is a stab in the heart. We have been dead for 100 days, though we are somehow still walking. We are not heroes. We are vulnerable human beings. We have paid huge price, with our own flesh. We have had enough. We all have one wish, just one wish: an end to this. An immediate, lasting ceasefire now.
Please help Islamic Relief support people in desperate need in Gaza: Donate to our Palestine Emergency Appeal now.
*This blog is anonymised to protect the safety and security of our colleague and others mentioned. Read the other blogs in this series here.
Editor’s note: This blog was submitted amid a fast-changing and deepening crisis. Palestinians marked 100 days of crisis on 14 January 2024, but difficulties in accessing the internet within the besieged enclave prevented our colleague from sharing his blog any sooner. The information was correct as of Monday 29 January 2024.
