we are not numbers
emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights
Translators like myself and other online workers struggle in harsh conditions to do our jobs and build our careers.
Sham’s workspace. Photo: Shams Mazen Rajab
As a translator and writer living in Gaza, the internet has been the cornerstone of my professional life. It allowed me to connect with clients globally, contribute to diverse projects, and earn a living to support my family.
In the initial months of the war, my hopes to continue my work as usual, albeit faint, persisted. I would constantly check my phone, anticipating an email from a client with a small project that I could tackle when conditions allowed. I imagined life gradually returning to normal, and that I would be able to resume my beloved work.
However, as days and weeks passed, and with the relentless bombardment and near-total communication blackout, that hope began to dissipate.
I vividly recall the profound sense of helplessness as I struggled for hours to connect to the internet, only to find my inbox empty. I felt like I was screaming into a void: My digital world, my window to the globe and my source of income, had completely shut down. I could no longer reach my old clients nor seek new opportunities. I felt utterly isolated, not only from the outside world but also from my professional identity as a translator.
My journey into the world of translation began during my university years. Even as a student, I harbored a deep passion for languages, which led me to explore freelance platforms like Mostaql. This platform became my initial gateway to connecting with clients.
My early projects primarily involved general translation across various topics, allowing me to build a foundational experience in the field.
I remember how the process used to begin when I received a new text for translation. First, I would read it in its entirety, trying to understand the main idea and the context in which it appeared, and I would imagine who the audience for this translation would be.
After that, I would divide the text into smaller parts, sometimes sentence by sentence, and sometimes paragraph by paragraph, to be able to focus better on each part. I would look for words and terms that might be unfamiliar to me, and I would try to find their most accurate meaning in the target language, while of course considering the context; this is a key aspect of non-literal translation.
It wasn’t just about replacing words with others, but rather a deep understanding of the meaning and conveying it faithfully and clearly—moving beyond literal word substitution.
After finishing the initial translation, I would always go back and read the translated text again, and sometimes more than once, to make sure it was free of any linguistic, grammatical, or spelling errors, and to ensure that the ideas flowed smoothly and accurately expressed the original meaning. I was always careful to ensure that the translation sounded natural, as if it had been originally written in the target language; achieving naturalness is a primary goal of non-literal translation.
Over time and with more experience, I began to develop a special interest in legal translation. I found great intellectual challenge and knowledge enrichment in this field. I started reading more about legal terms and different legal systems, and I tried to develop my skills in this type of translation through courses.
My attraction to legal translation stems from its intellectual rigor and the profound impact it can have. The precision required in legal documents, where a single word can alter the entire meaning and have significant real-world consequences, deeply resonates with my meticulous nature and my appreciation for the power of language.
Furthermore, legal translation offers a fascinating glimpse into different legal systems and cultures. It constantly challenges me to expand my knowledge and analytical skills. The responsibility of accurately conveying legally binding information, ensuring clarity and avoiding any potential misinterpretations, is a challenge I find both demanding and immensely rewarding. It’s a field where continuous learning is essential, and this constant intellectual stimulation is a key factor in my enduring interest.
Over the past many months, as the war dragged on and the humanitarian situation worsened, despair began to seep into my heart. How could I plan for a professional future amidst such instability? How could I rebuild my client network after this prolonged disconnection? Painful thoughts began to surface about losing my skills due to lack of practice and the difficulty of re-entering the global job market after this extended hiatus.
The feeling of losing control over my professional life was devastating. My work as a translator had always been a source of pride and independence. Now, I felt as though that part of my identity had frozen, suspended in the vacuum of war. It was no longer just a difficulty in working; it was a loss of hope in the possibility of reclaiming the professional life I had painstakingly built over the years.
On one occasion, after agreeing with a client on a new translation project, the internet suddenly and without warning went down. I tried repeatedly to contact him, but to no avail.
When the connection finally returned days later, I was surprised to find that he had contracted another translator to complete the work due to the delay. Despite my feelings of frustration and the loss of the job opportunity, I took the initiative to apologize to the client for the situation, keen to maintain a good professional relationship. Fortunately, the client was very understanding and expressed his willingness to collaborate with me again once the situation stabilizes.
Adding to these challenges, my old mobile phone, which served as my mobile office, broke down. With it, I lost a lot of important data related to my work, such as terminology lists and client contacts. This loss was another severe blow to my hopes of resuming my professional activity
To add to the challenges, my current mobile phone has become outdated and struggles to handle the demands of translation work. The prohibitive cost of acquiring a new phone, inflated significantly due to the current circumstances, presents a major obstacle.
Furthermore, the persistent instability, frequent displacement, and unreliable internet connectivity make consistent work for clients nearly impossible. While I have developed my skills further, particularly in legal translation, the aforementioned factors prevent me from actively seeking and undertaking new translation projects.
The challenges I face as a translator are shared by many online workers here in Gaza. Deadlines are missed, communication with international clients becomes erratic, and the ability to deliver services is severely compromised. This instability erodes trust and leads to project cancellations.
The economic consequences are further compounded by the reluctance of international clients to engage with individuals based in a conflict zone. Concerns about instability, potential communication breakdowns, and the inability to guarantee consistent service delivery often lead to a drying up of new work opportunities.
This all translate directly into lost income and missed opportunities, pushing already vulnerable individuals further into economic hardship.
Beyond the logistical nightmares, the psychological toll of living under the constant threat of violence is immense. The pervasive fear, the sounds of explosions punctuating daily existence, the anxiety for the safety of family and friends: These realities create an environment utterly antithetical to focused work and creative output.
How can a translator concentrate on the nuances of language, or a writer craft compelling narratives, when their minds are consumed by the immediate need for safety and survival? This mental burden significantly diminishes productivity and the ability to function professionally.
Moreover, payment platforms may become unreliable or impose restrictions, making it difficult for freelancers inside Gaza to receive their hard-earned income.
Online workers seek out any sliver of connectivity, any opportunity to keep their digital flames alive. They network with each other, share scarce resources, and leverage any available platform.
The impact of war on Gaza’s online professionals not only hampers careers, it also silences voices, stifles creativity, and isolates individuals from the global community.
