Photographs fail to convey the anguish and burden that each heart bears.
Basic necessities and life-saving medicine remain scarce, but mobile phones and luxury goods that no one can afford are available.
My meal at Ayloul Palestinian Restaurant transported me back to Gaza, when I used to gather with cousins around a large plate of my grandmother’s maftoul.
The Israeli army enforcing the so-called “yellow” line, and the Palestinian militias positioned in our neighborhood, prevent us from returning home.
I left Gaza to become a doctor, but it is taking a huge emotional toll.
She says that losing her home at this age is completely different from losing it in childhood.
Ibrahim’s crime was to stand near a target, and his death was sanitized by the term ‘collateral damage.’
After so long, people are finally sleeping without the sound of bombing. People walk at night. Families sit outside.
For so long we have wondered, when will it be our turn to see our names on the list of high-scoring Tawjihi students?
My cousin’s experience of injury and partial recovery, of despair and renewed hope, is emblematic of so many stories from Gaza today.
Gaza detainees talk about their time in israeli prisons.
Identifying the bodies of returned resistance fighters was deeply distressing for family members and loved ones.
