Ohood Nassar in a borrowed press vest. Photo: Zyad Nassar

A journalist anywhere in the world can usually be recognized by their press vest, helmet, and the camera they carry in their hands. But the situation in Gaza is very different. A journalist in Gaza may not own a press vest, a helmet, or even a camera. You may recognize them only by the phone they hold in their hand.

I began practicing journalism in 2024 during the genocide carried out by Israel in Gaza after October 2023. Writing was my way to defend my rights and the rights of Palestinians in Gaza.

When I first started writing, I wrote about my own suffering during the war: displacement, the bombing of my home, and my education during the genocide despite the complete lack of internet and electricity. The first story I wrote and published was about my close friend Maryam, who was killed by the occupation at the end of 2023. The story was published on We Are Not Numbers.

After that, I wrote an article about my university studies during the genocide, and it was published on Electronic Intifada. Then I decided to begin writing journalistic reports to document the suffering of civilians in Gaza and to become a voice for those who cannot document their own suffering.

In order to do this work, I need a camera, a laptop, a microphone, and a press vest. But in reality, I own none of them because they are so scarce. The occupation placed severe restrictions on the entry of press vests and professional safety equipment since before the Israeli war on Gaza. With the genocide, their entry has been completely banned. Even when they can be found here, the prices of laptops and cameras are more than 10 times their original cost.

As a result, any journalist who owns a press vest protects it carefully and refuses to sell it, even though a press vest does not truly protect a journalist’s life or prevent them from being targeted. In fact, wearing one can sometimes place a journalist in even greater danger. Israel has targeted more than 260 journalists in Gaza during the genocide, and many of them were killed while wearing press vests. Their only “crime” was exposing the occupation’s crimes and the violations committed by Israel.

Despite the danger journalists face in Gaza because of wearing press vests, they are often forced to wear them for protection from random shrapnel.

Many times, when I need a press vest because I am going to conduct interviews in dangerous places, or because I need it as a way to identify myself as a journalist to make interviews and documentation easier, I borrow one from journalist colleagues.

Obtaining a vest is never easy. I have to coordinate with another journalist carefully so that the time I need the vest does not conflict with the time they need it. Once, I asked my brother Zyad to help me get a press vest from his friend Mohammad, who works as a freelance journalist. I used to see him wearing a press vest and thought it belonged to him.

But when my brother asked him for it, he explained that the vest actually belonged to another friend, and that they coordinated with each other so their schedules for using it would not overlap. He told my brother that he could not provide it at the time I requested because the owner needed it, but he managed to borrow another press vest from a journalist colleague.

When I wore the vest, it felt very light. I realized it lacked the metal plates normally found inside standard press vests, which are supposed to provide emergency protection from bullets in the dangerous environments where journalists in Gaza work while reporting the truth.

In Gaza, even basic protection for journalists has become something shared, borrowed, and passed from one person to another. Yet despite the risks, journalists continue going into dangerous places with whatever equipment they can find, determined to document the stories the world might otherwise never see.

The vest I wore was only a form of identification. It could not protect me from any danger I might face.

The lack of basic equipment that I need to write reports did not stop me. Instead, it pushed me to challenge the circumstances and continue my journalistic work despite all the obstacles.