As of the ceasefire that took place on May 13, 2023, I have officially lived 100 days of Israeli wars on Gaza. Even though I am a physicist, I doubted my math, so I calculated twice the number of days of each of the six wars I have experienced, and the result was confirmed: 100 days!

Do you know what I could do in 100 days? To save you the time, I Googled it. It turns out that I could read over 40,000 pages; listen to 1,500-4,500 songs;  complete the game of Assassin’s Creed Valhalla; learn the basics of how to play the piano; and begin to travel the world — which I desperately want to do.

Shockingly, I realized that not only had I lived through 100 days of Israeli attacks on Gaza, but I have experienced war in every single season of the year. This leads to the fact that the four seasons of the year look different in every part of the world except in the Gaza Strip.

Winter of 2008

In the winter of 2008, I was a 10-year-old kid. The war started during my dreary geography class. When the bombing started, we clapped our hands over our heads, My face turned white with fear, especially when my teacher called us to follow him out of the classroom.

My biggest concern was how I would run downstairs from the third floor wearing soccer shoes with pointed studs. We had just finished our sports class, and I hadn’t had a chance to change them. I was afraid I would slip on the stairs.

Until this day, I cannot remember how I got home safely. That winter, not only did the sky rain drops of water; the Israeli military forces dropped heavy missiles throughout the 22 days of the war on Gaza.

On some frigid nights in January, I did not have a cozy, warm bed. Instead, I had to sleep in a room with a wide-open window to reduce the atmospheric impact of the falling bombs.

Autumn of 2012

I was born in autumn, but in 2012 it was not a happy birth season. I had just celebrated my 14th birthday. I went with my father to pay a visit to our sick neighbor. The sun had nearly set when, all of a sudden, the house began swaying back and forth.

My father grabbed me under his arms and bent his chest over my back. It felt like an earthquake. But it turned out it was Israeli warplanes, assassinating a major leader of a resistance movement. It was the attack that ignited the 2012 war.

If I compare this war to the one before it, I would say that in 2012 Israel took its brutality and barbarity to another level. The next eight days were filled with ear-splitting bombings that could destroy a whole neighborhood, not just a house.

Summer of 2014

Summer in 2014 was not a time for vacation; it was the time for evacuation. My family and I spent most of the 51-day war moving between our home and my aunt’s. This was because of the nonstop threats that the Israeli army  sent to our neighbors, indicating its intention to demolish their homes.

In that war, we spent days without electricity or water in the middle of a sweltering July. It was pure torture, especially for someone as shy as me. Even though I have my own bedroom, I never slept shirtless or in boxers. That July, I did both. I even slept shirtless in my aunt’s home, which is something I wouldn’t normally ever do.

I know that my experience cannot be compared to those of the hundreds who were killed or injured, or who lost their houses. But for all of us, the Israeli attacks targeted and damaged our very souls. This war, indeed, was the hardest one.

Spring. Twice.

Spring! Oh! I love spring. But for three consecutive years, starting in 2021, and for 11, three and five days, respectively, the occupation forces attacked the civilians of the Gaza Strip. Two of these wars occurred during the spring.

Watching innocent children playing in Jabalia be shattered into pieces by Israeli warplanes broke something inside of me. I could not cry. My lungs constricted, and I ground my teeth. I went out to the balcony, and noticed Mars up in the sky. It looked more red than normal. Well, honestly, I don’t know whether it was really that way or if my anger and sorrow was tinting everything.

Mars, in a way, opened his arms to me. It was as if I finally had a friend who “got” me.

Different seasons, same wars

I  have gone through all this and I have survived. Wait! Have I?

Instagram reminded me of a story I shared during the 2021 war. My story said: #GazaUnderAttack. When I reshared the story, no one noticed that I was talking about a different war. Do you know why? Because I reshared it on May 11, 2023, when Gaza was also under attack.

People often say “the days seem the same.” In Gaza, years look the same. The same stifling occupation. The same innocent people killed, even if their faces look different. All wars seem the same.

Growing up with wars

For me, war has been more than 100 days and more than a four-season thing. It has also haunted many important milestones of my life.

In 2008, I was a primary school student. In 2014, I was preparing myself for Tawjihi, my senior year, a life-changing time for Palestinian stuents. In 2021, I was studying for my final exams in college. And finally, in 2023, I am finishing a freelance writing job for an Austrian client. This is not the “company” I want.

Every corner of my home, every inch of my neighborhood, and every square foot of my country bears witness to these and other war stories. Stories that are not only inscribed on the walls but also internalized in the souls of my generation.