In exile in Egypt, I carry Gaza within me wherever I go, but I do not know where I can safely plant my roots.
My future remains on hold while I wait for the Rafah border crossing to reopen.
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.
I left Gaza to become a doctor, but it is taking a huge emotional toll.
In Turkey and Belgium, it’s a day like any other. Not so in the Gaza of my memories.
Between borders and uncertainty, we fight to live, learn, heal, and hope again.
Maybe I would have sat longer in our garden / where jasmine crept up cracked walls / and everything still felt alive.
Even being paralyzed has not dented Sarah’s determination to serve others by entering the medical profession.
We came to Egypt fleeing death, but in exile suffering continues to chase us and we face an uncertain future.
Genocide changes you; it breaks you and deforms you.
A Gazan medical student in Egypt watches war devour his homeland while classmates dine at international chains that enable genocide.
In exile as my homeland is devastated by war, I’m still fighting to become a doctor and bring hope and medical care where it’s needed most.
