I write this on August 30, 2024, the 329th day of the genocide of the people of Gaza. People here have started to lose their patience and hope. We are so tired and lonely. Everyday is getting worse than before. We now believe that the whole world is deaf and blind to the large numbers of those already massacred and those still in Gaza.

My family is so worried after the warnings to evacuate from Deir Al-Balah. Most of the people here are asking the same question, “Where will we go!?” My parents are so sad because they had to leave their home and wonder if they will lose their home for good or will ever return one day.

We are trying just to continue our life here. We know it’s not a normal life like that of other human beings who live freely and in a safe place.

As a mother

I am a wife and a mother of two young children, and I try to be OK and help my children to get their basic necessities. But I can’t explain how horrible this situation is even to do something simple.

For example, when I go to the market to buy something I feel the atmosphere outside is horrible and frightening. Shoes are scarce and we don’t have anything to wear on our feet. All the streets are full of disgusting water and rubbish.

Another major source of suffering is the hot weather and living in the tents that never cool down.

Also, there is no transportation available, only horses and donkeys and ancient vehicles that no longer function. The street smells are nauseating and everything makes you hate yourself and hate October 7 for the same reasons. My sense of hate is because of the cruel life that we must endure and accept today. There is nothing here for human beings; they deprived us of our simplest rights. Our lives here are just a black nightmare.

The continuous evacuations have made people feel like zombies. Their faces reveal how tired they are and explain everything about the situation without even asking.

So, I decided to be strong to face all of these struggles in our daily life.

Now I am pregnant, in my sixth month with new life in me and I need health care for the pregnancy journey. There are no hospitals and no healthy food. I’m so worried about my unborn baby and I’m trying to maintain a healthy system for me and for my baby despite all of these bad circumstances. Not just me, but all pregnant women here are suffering from the bad nutrition and unhealthy water.

I also worry about having the baby clothes I will need. Because all the borders are closed, along with the bombings and evacuations, there are no clothes here and almost everything else is unavailable, so I start to collect some from my sister who had a new baby four months ago.

This life is new for most of us and even as I say I am trying to do my best to be OK, it is still not enough. We need to stand up for our rights as humans and the rest of the world must help us. This tragic war and genocide must stop. I’m asking everyone who can help change this to do anything because we are starving to see the end of this dark tunnel.

As an educator

In addition to my pregnancy, we are so worried about my sister’s education and future. Inge is in her third year of dental studies and she doesn’t know what will happen for her. Friends seeking a scholarship for her told her that they will find a solution and try to make travel arrangements for her to go to Egypt to continue her studies. Unfortunately, there has been no success yet.

I not only must be strong for my children and my sister, but also for my kind students whom I love and admire. I am an English teacher for tenth to twelfth grade students, but now during the war I teach younger children with a United Nations Development Project (UNDP). This is for students who have been displaced and evacuated. It’s at a school supposedly in a “safe” area. This school is for evacuated and injured families, to give them first aid and medical services because there are no hospitals here.

Every one of my students has his or her own sad story. Most of them were forced to evacuate from the north and most are injured or have lost parents.

As I said, the situation is so hard, we can’t even imagine how strong we are after all those heavy nights of bombing. I try to be kind and smile to them most of the time. My colleagues, Sanaa and Assam, and myself are doing great work with those young students who open their eyes and are shocked with the bitter reality.

One of the most heart-breaking stories in my class is Haneen, who is only 4 years old. Both her parents were killed at the beginning of this war. She is a survivor with her brother and her uncle’s family. Twelve people were killed in the same home that was targeted.

Haneen suffered an injury to her face and was also in shock due to her loss, but then she started to play with her friends in the displacement school and began to improve. Yesterday was Haneen’s birthday and the rest of her family gave her a party to cheer her up and to give her some happiness instead of her loss.

Unfortunately, Haneen is no long doing OK because she remembers her parents every moment; she is now traumatized again, and her loneliness has returned. We don’t know how to help her; she needs mental health treatment as soon as possible. There are tens of thousands like Haneen here. This is just one story among many.

All human beings need safety to live a normal life, without bombing, evacuation and killing everyday. Please help us end this tragedy and avoid seeing another Haneen in every child’s face.

We need to have hope again and you, our readers, are our last hope to help us. Please do your best to raise your voices to the free people around the world. You are our last hope for a light at the end of this dark long tunnel.