When I was four years old, I went to live with my family in the United Kingdom. We spent three years living in Bolton, part of Greater Manchester. The main purpose for traveling was so my father could study for his Ph.D. at the University of Salford.
While in Bolton, my two elder brothers and I went to British schools. My brother Abdallah and I were enrolled in Brownlow Fold Primary School, while my brother Mohammed entered Smithills High School. At the beginning, we were very reluctant to take part in any social activity due to the language barrier. However, with the support from our schoolteachers, classmates, and family, we began to adapt quickly.
Leaving Gaza and moving to live in a different place was not easy. It was difficult to leave friends behind and move to a new culture with a new language. But gradually, we started to adapt to British culture. We began speaking the language and expressing ourselves easily. Things got better because our new city was so welcoming. We quickly felt at home, and friendly locals were always ready with a smile — in the street, on the bus, and in the park. This filled us with more happiness. We felt we had become members of the new community, taking part in activities and on special days.
At a morning assembly one day, the school principal, Mrs. Pearson, expressed how happy she was at my improving performance by announcing that I was among the foreign students who had mastered the English language the fastest. This great news made me and my family happy and proud. My parents further encouraged me to work even harder to reach my full potential.
Acknowledging my achievements, the school granted me three tickets to attend a match when the Wanderers (the Bolton team) was playing another team in the Premier League. My dad was happy when I gave him the tickets, and my mum, my dad, and I went to attend the match at the University of Bolton Stadium. Despite it being a very cold day, we enjoyed it very much, because this was the first time we had ever attended a match in the Premier League.
Back to Gaza, and to insecurity
When my father received his Ph.D., we returned to Gaza, realizing we were not only rediscovering our hometown, but also ourselves. In the schools we attended in Gaza, my brothers and I were great in all subjects, especially in English. We did well in all tests and came first in all English competitions held in the Gaza governorates. We did well because we had picked up good habits while in Britain, such as good time management; respecting friends, family members, and people from other nationalities; being engaged in useful activities; and developing oneself by reading and learning new skills.
We hope we can go back to live in the U.K. again one day, simply because it is the place where we found happiness and peace of mind, studied in good schools, had good friends, traveled to many places, and enjoyed the lovely British countryside. These things are lacking here in Gaza because of the ongoing siege. Life in Gaza is miserable, with 2 million people confined in an Israeli-constructed, monitored, and guarded prison. Movement is restricted and peace in the enclave is missing. We experience the weight of oppressive injustice instead.
Unlike the peace of mind people experience in the U.K., Gazans lack a sense of security due to the frequent wars. Since the family came back in 2010, we have experienced four devastating wars (2012, 2014, 2021, 2022). These wars have affected us psychologically, socially, and economically.
My family is constantly worried whenever one of us leaves the house, such as to go to school, for fear that we might become a target of bombardment from Israeli drones that constantly hover in the skies above Gaza. This insecurity is the barrier that has shattered our dreams; the good experiences we picked up in the U.K. have been replaced by a nightmare.
When the days in Gaza drag, I find myself dreaming of the carefree days back in England. For example, I remember the time when a Palestinian family invited us to their home in Southend-on-Sea in London, a seaside resort at the mouth of the River Thames. We spent the day swimming and going on amusement park rides such as the roller coaster, bumper cars, and the sky drop.
One example which is emblematic of the life in Gaza and West Bank is the kind of treatment school children suffer at the Israeli checkpoints. Last September, we woke to the news of the death of Rayan Sulieman, a five-year-old boy from the West Bank village of Taqoa, whose heart stopped with fear while being chased by heavily armed Israeli soldiers. Heartbroken at the news about Rayan, I remembered how children in the U.K. live happily, fearing nothing while going to and from school.
Nowhere to relax
Another thing that struck me on returning to Gaza was the lack of recreational space. Every city in the UK has parks that people can go to. They are places full of games that children can enjoy and they are access-free. But Gaza, one of the most densely populated areas in the world, has no recreational centers where people can relax or unwind. With a total area of 365 square kilometers (141 square miles), it has very few parks for people to enjoy, and those we do have require admission fees that people from poor families cannot afford.
Even the sea, which is the favorite destination for Gazans, is not safe, either. The Israeli coastal guard often target seagoers and people lying on the beach as well as Palestinian fishing boats. During the 2014 Israeli aggression on Gaza, four children of the Bakr family were killed while they were playing on the beach.
Even cinemas, which in the past attracted a lot of people to enjoy local and foreign films, have now been closed, with many of them turned into residential areas.
In 2012, the United Nations declared that Gaza would be unlivable by the year 2020. It’s now 2023. With the Israeli siege entering its sixteenth year, life in Gaza is a world away from life outside it. People live here, but they can hardly get what can help them to live properly.
