we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights

Returning displaced families struggle with destruction, harsh weather, and limited aid despite ceasefire.

Laugh skinny guys; now I hate winter too.

For wartime evacuees, the cold season is full of cruel experiences, unlike past winters fondly remembered.

Harsh weather, inadequate shelter, and ongoing attacks create a dire situation that threatens our very survival.

I imagine our house under the wing of a dragon with all its warmth / Even if all that surrounds us is a tent.

Heavy rain showers flooded our tents a few days ago, destroying what little we have, giving us a taste of what is to come.

The season of dreamers and poets, of hot chocolate and dark rich colors, has lost the joy it used to bring.

‘I look up at the stars, looking for a friend, for solace in these lonely and frightening nights.’