Written amidst Israel’s latest round of military bombardments on the besieged Gaza Strip, where 33 Palestinians were killed in five days – Gaza is home to 2.2 million Palestinians, half of whom are children. 80% of Gaza’s children live with depression, grief & fear according to Save the Children.

I emailed my friend, Samar, who lives in the United States, telling her everything is fine in Gaza. One hour later, things turned upside down as Israel launched surprise airstrikes across Gaza.

My grandmother fled from Ukraine to Gaza and wants me to stay next to her all the time because she doesn’t want to die alone. She asked me, “Khaled, aren’t you afraid of a new war?” I told her that I wasn’t, “We Gazans have lived through so many wars that war has become routine for us.” She tried to call my aunt in Ukraine, but my aunt doesn’t have an internet connection; the Russian army destroyed the center that distributes internet all over Ukraine. About two hours later, my aunt called her, asking her about the situation in Gaza. I had no words to answer my grandmother when she asked, “Wars are in every home: in Ukraine and in Palestine. Where should I escape now?”

I wondered how other Ukrainians now living in Gaza cope with our abnormal living conditions. My mother’s friend, Lina, is a Ukrainian doctor who works at al-Karama Hospital in Gaza. When I talked to her about this, I was shocked by her answer. “Nothing unusual, I go to my daily job as a doctor at al-Karama Hospital. I treat children, and everything is normal. I know that I should not normalize war, but what do you expect from a person who has survived more than four wars?”

During the 2008 war, my father, who is a doctor, did not want to leave us and go to his job. I remember him saying: “I prefer being fired from my work than leaving you alone in this bombardment!” But that was then. Now, in the middle of the terrifying shelling, he eats his breakfast as usual, performs the post-dawn prayer, and goes to work. He shows no interest in the destination of rockets flying overhead or which areas are being bombed. He even calls me to meet him at the shopping center so I can help him carry groceries home. During the Israeli assaults in 2008, 2012, and 2014, he was not nearly as relaxed.

I took my grandmother to buy supplies from the center. Although I was expecting to find everything closed, to my surprise, shops were open for business and people were sitting in cafes and chatting about what to expect that night.

My 7-year-old younger sister, Zamzam, was supposed to go on a school trip yesterday. She was excited about it and went shopping for some candy to treat her school friends. But the trip got canceled, as did our university festival. My friends and I spent more than two months translating a scene from “Hamlet” into Arabic, performing it together, and selecting suitable background music, to get extra credit. We felt confident that we could put on a stellar performance, but the university announced that classes (and the festival, of course) would be suspended until the situation stabilizes.