Marj Al-Zohoor packed her luggage and was ready to leave the Gaza Strip as soon as the Rafah Crossing into Egypt opened. The 21-year-old medical student did not know whether she would be able to resume her study of medicine in Ein Shams University in Cairo, which had already opened for the school year about six months ago, on September 26.

In 2012, Marj was admitted to the medicine program at Ein Shams, an achievement she describes as “the best thing that ever happened in my life.” For her, studying medicine was more than a dream; it was the weapon she would use to break down all of the social and political barriers she might face.

During summer vacations, she usually returned to Gaza to visit her family. She missed them terribly, plus most of her expatriate friends in Egypt returned to their home countries during holidays. She didn’t want to stay alone in her flat.

Some of her friends warned her not to return, because Rafah Crossing opened and closed unpredictably; however, she had never expected it to be this bad.

Rafah is one of seven border crossings that serve as the only way to go in and out of the Gaza Strip. Unlike the other six, which are managed by Israel, Rafah is under Egyptian control. The 1.8 million Gazans penned inside once had hoped that management by an Arab nation would mean great freedom, but instead the restrictions on their movement had become even more challenging. Rafah Crossing has not opened regularly since October 2014. In fact, in 2015, it was only open for only 21 days, and to date in 2016, for three. The closure killed the dreams of Gazans—desperate to travel for school, medical treatment or family reunification—on a daily basis.

Although the closure of the Rafah Crossing between Gaza and Egypt left Marj confined in the Strip, missing almost half of her third year of medical school and paralyzing every other plan she had made, Marj never regretted returning to Gaza.  

“I never regretted coming to see my family. Many students visit their families during their Christmas vacations and New Year holidays, why not me? It’s the only vacation I have in the year,” she recalled.

Her careworn face reflected her frustration and fatigue; Marj spent most of her time checking and rechecking Facebook pages and websites that report news about Rafah Crossing. She thought the crossing might open suddenly and she wouldn’t know, although such news spreads “as fast as wildfire.” Marj is just one among thousands of people who have applied for permission to leave Gaza.

Marj had applied a couple of times for a Jordanian “non-objection” permit to allow her to travel through that country “But it was in vain. I was rejected both times I applied.” Such a permit was particularly difficult for her to obtain, since she would need to follow a zigzag path through Jordan to eventually reach Egypt.

Finally, the news spread over the local media that the Egyptian authorities were reopening Rafah Crossing on the 4th and 5th of November 2015, giving priority to students and people needing humanitarian attention. Many people called Marj and her younger sister, who studies dentistry at Ein Shams University, to congratulate them on the good news.

Marj and her sister left their house in the early hours of sunrise. She said they were lucky to have a private car to take them to the border, since there were no taxis operating that early. Marj thought that by reaching the border as early as possible, she could get her passport stamped fast and leave. That was not the case.

 “It was doomsday!” said Marj.

The place was already filled with people, yelling and pushing others in hopes of obtaining their papers. It was very cold. 

The two women waited in the terminal until midnight. Then they went back home.

The next day was a repeat of the first. “But it was the only hope we had. I knew that if I didn’t leave this time, the next time might not come,” Marj told me.

The women waited again until midnight, but it was useless. The gates were closed. Her elder brothers told them to return home. But seeing their other family members study, work, etc., while they had nothing to do was as hard as waiting on the border.

Despite the ongoing closure, Marj has never lost hope or canceled her plans.

“I am pretty sure the border will reopen and I will be able to leave and pursue all of the classes I have missed,” she insists, with a mixture of determination and wistfulness. 

Mentor: Alice Rothchild
Posted May 10, 2016