Alone / I walk among the rubble of what was once our neighborhood / past the graves of memories and loved ones.
Lonely, I walk through my sorrowful land / Where dreams are throttled by a harsh hand.
The life of an exceptional student has been torn apart by siege, occupation, and war. God willing, inshallah, he will persevere.
Those who survive the genocide will return to houses that have been reduced to rubble, and yet the city will remain alive in its people.
Once a place of triumph and hope, the Al-Nasr neighborhood turned into a living hell overnight.
Medication and food shortages, a destroyed healthcare system, plus extreme stress, create the conditions for slow death by the “silent killer.”
He and she spoke by phone / the night before their wedding / certain their heartbeats/ could end the war/ the endless bombardment, the screams.
I want to apply for scholarships to continue my education abroad, but will a master’s degree matter if I leave my disabled sister behind?
Science requires dispassionate evaluation, but when observing blood cells under a microscope in my lab class in Zagazig, Egypt, I see images of the blood of Gaza.
My cousin Malak has experienced displacement and terrible family loss. Now as she mourns, she longs for someone to listen to her story.
I am nineteen, they say / but do not mistake this number / for youth or innocence.
From the moment they are born, Palestinians in Gaza wait for the inevitability of death.
