we are not numbers
emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights
Behind every completed task is a story of a struggle, persistence, and pain.
A writing spot in cramped quarters. Photo: Mariam Mushtaha
I started working as a freelancer at the beginning of January 2025, before the truce came into force.
I am a writer, reporter, and translator (my major is English language translation). I write personal stories as well as report other people’s stories during the genocide. As a reporter, I try to tell the world what is taking place and the brutal crimes that Israel is perpetrating against the people of Gaza.
My work was going well until we had to leave our home in Gaza’s Al-Sabra area and move to the extensively damaged Tel Al-Hawa neighborhood, where we now rent an apartment.
The problem was not in changing apartments; it was in moving to an uninhabitable area, where my work as a freelancer would be disrupted in multiple ways.
For electricity, we now depended on solar energy. This was insufficient in the winter or on cloudy days. Plus there was no internet in the area, not even a weak signal.
I remember one time when I needed to send a pitch to We Are Not Numbers. My story From Sweden to Gaza: a family reunion, then disaster is now available on this website. You can read it in five minutes. It took me a whole week to be able to send emails to finish the piece.
I had to walk for 40 minutes to reach the nearest workspace because there was no transportation in Tel Al-Hawa. Often I’d walk through the rain without even an umbrella. The trip felt long and unbearable, but I believed that every story I was writing deserved both the risk and effort.
Sometimes I told myself, “If only we had a workspace close to our apartment, then I would have written more pieces with greater accomplishment.”
Many of my writing ideas came to little or nothing because of this poor access to the internet and electricity.
In August 2025, the Israeli Knesset announced its plan to occupy Gaza City. Israel, in customary fashion, used different destructive weapons to push people out of the city. In Tel Al-Hawa, the situation was extremely dangerous. Quadcopters filled the air. Robots were coming closer. One month later, under heavy bombardment, my family decided to flee south.
We fled to the Al-Mawasi area where we had only a tent for shelter. Tents can never be like homes. It is hard to find a comfortable, convenient place to study or work when you’re living in a tent. Any sense of calm felt unattainable.
Now the challenge was not only to access the internet, but to find a space to work in.
There were no workspaces in Al-Mawasi and the small cafés, where young men watched football matches or enjoyed other TV programs, were overcrowded. Every corner was taken.
I was unable to find anywhere quiet during this period and my work and my studies were badly affected. Once a client reached out through Whatsapp and asked if I could translate a short video. They wanted to set up a meeting to discuss what was needed. Frustratingly, I was unable to get online to meet because of the internet outages and power cuts.
This was one opportunity of many that would not materialize. This is the everyday life and experience of people living through a genocidal occupation.
Receiving payment for completed work is equally challenging for freelance writers.
Before the genocide, freelancers would be paid through PayPal, Western Union, and similar online financial platforms. Since these methods have become even more restricted, transferring payments from outside Gaza has become a nightmare. These are conditions of war.
My laptop before it was broken. Photo: Mariam Mushtaha
For us, the Palestinian people, the ceasefire often feels like a gimmick. The more things change, the more they remain the same.
I am currently living in a different rented apartment in the Tel Al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza. The internet is available almost all the time but my apartment is small with no separate room where I can study or work. To make matters worse, my laptop’s screen was broken while we were at Al-Mawasi. There are barely any new laptops for sale and the few available secondhand laptops fetch at exorbitant prices that most of us cannot afford.
Freelancers are not only workers; we are fighters. Freelancing is a job for many and the only source of sustenance for thousands of people. It is what we have to do to survive. Behind every completed task is a story of a struggle, persistence, and pain.
During my one year of freelancing, I feel grateful for what I have accomplished under destruction, famine, and all the other challenges of genocide. I have learned that work it is not only about meeting deadlines and providing quality material but also, in Gaza, it is about continuing to work under power outages, internet instability, and displacement.
