We may be unable to find words to describe what we are going through… We are trapped between gunfire and a separation border wall. We cannot advance, retreat, or return to our home, and there is no place to escape and survive. We only have to wait for death, and until death comes, we live in the worst humanitarian conditions.
There is no healthy food, no clean water, no treatment or medical service, no electricity, and communications are very bad. We live a life that has no ingredients. We are forced to live it, and we have no alternative options except to wait for death, which approaches us day after day.
When night comes, we do not know whether we will see the morning or whether we will be buried under the ashes of the missiles. Every night I embrace my child and my wife and say to myself, “Maybe this is our last hug. Maybe we will never meet.” Once again… Will the morning come and all of us are fine?! .
When one of us goes to buy food or receive aid, we bid him farewell and we do not know whether he will return alive or dead, or perhaps he will never return, as if he has disappeared into the unknown, with no safety or security. We sleep to the buzz of planes and wake up in panic to the sounds of explosions that begin in the middle of the night and continue throughout the day. Perhaps waiting for death was more painful than death itself, and now we feel that there is no difference between death or waiting for it.. They are both (death) 😔
I hope to help me, my wife, and our child to leave Gaza and seek refuge in a safe place where we can live. I do not want to lose any of them.
Author: The man of the family who provided vegetables to people in need in Gaza before the war started
Date: 7th February 2024, Rafah
Photo: Jackson David, Rio de Janeiro/Brazil via Pixabay