Voices from Gaza

Since the beginning of the Israeli offensive on Gaza over 1,700 Palestinians, mostly civilians, have been killed and at least 8,900 others have been reported injured.

One out of every five persons killed in the past three weeks is a child and the surviving children are going through the third war on Gaza in a span of six years, robbing them of their childhood and innocence.

Beyond the numbers, residents in Gaza have endured three weeks of constant bombardments, which have not only killed their families, friends and neighbours, but have destroyed their homes, killed their livestock and buried the few possessions they had, under rubble.

This week, Karl Schembri, regional media manager of Save the Children in the Middle East, a former MaltaToday journalist wrote that the apartment he lived in for years during his stay in Gaza was destroyed.

“Friends in Gaza tell me my former flat on the 15th floor overlooking the sea in Al Jundi has been destroyed. 80 people displaced from Beit Hanoun were seeking shelter there until this evening. Luckily nobody was killed, two were moderately injured,” he writes from Amman, Jordan, where is now based.

“It was a little hangout where some of my closest friends would come and have endless discussions on everything through the night over a shisha. So many magical moments and memories I miss. And my lovely landlady, Azza Qassem, a real fighter, the real resistance to anything in the way of freedom. She’s ok now in another little flat with some 30 people whose houses have been destroyed.

“Death is everywhere in Gaza,” she just told me. “None of us knows if we’ll be alive the next minute. There is no red line in this war.” Stay safe comrade Azza. Houses can be rebuilt but you’re unique.”

‘I’m feeling very sad’

On Friday, an Israeli shell destroyed 33-year-old Kamal Mohammed’s home in Beit Lahiya.

The man, who works for the international development organisation Oxfam, posted pictures of what remains of his house on social media sites and wrote “This is my house and my surroundings after the Israeli destruction and massacre... feeling very sad.”

Karl Schembri wrote that Kamal – whose bedouin family was displaced from Beersheba – is “the first Palestinian every Oxfam visitor meets upon entering Gaza, taking you on a historical, political and cultural tour before dropping you at the office. I’ve seen most of Gaza with him and through his unique lens. His eyes beam with pride and enthusiasm to show the best of his country to everyone. A philosopher, poet and humanitarian, he would stop his car to look at a flock of sheep or enjoy the green pastures in spring.”

Karl Schembri of Save The Children, lived in a Gaza apartment for years when he worked for Oxfam. That apartment (to the right is the view he had of the sea) is no more

Kamal used to work as a gardener in Israel when the Palestinians of Gaza were still allowed and Schembri noted that “he was always the first one to stop anyone from generalising about Israelis and Jews. He loved his Jewish employers who treated him with respect and dignity. His garden was a little sanctuary of peace and life. I spent hours there discussing everything over a shisha, among blooming flowers and curious cats.”

Upon reaching his home this week, Kamal also found his family’s donkey buried under the rubble.

Upon reaching his home this week, Kamal also found his family’s donkey buried under the rubble

However, this was not the first time his family lost one of its few resources. Schembri wrote that in the 2009 war, “his donkey had been killed and his mother couldn’t get used to the new one because he was still too small, until they became inseparable and she would use him to do their shopping out of the village. Today he found this destruction when he went to visit his home in the short-lived ceasefire. I don’t know what to tell Kamal tonight. I have no words.”

Memories: Once bombed, never found

On a similar note, Asma AbuMezied recounts her experience on Voices of Gaza, an online resource for journalists reporting on the Israeli attack on Gaza.

Writing while her family home shakes under the bombardments, the 26-year-old woman who works as a business development specialist with an NGO, writes about what it means if your home, your past, your memories, are taken away in a single moment.

“Memories capture the moments of our lives that are gone forever. They become our own life companions whether in sorrow or happiness, whether we are surrounded by our loved ones or feeling lonely. A person without memories is a lost soul unable to neither look into the future nor live in the present. Memories and little things that we keep from the past give us strength when we need it and the drive to have a better life ahead.

“Imagine all the memories of your life ruthlessly taken away from you in less than 10 minutes! All it takes is 10 minutes and in some cases – five minutes. That’s how much time the Israeli Army gives us to leave our home, to leave our past, our memories and run for our lives. Ten minutes to get what is important to us out of our houses to take with us. As if what is important can be materialised in a thing or two! What about the whole house? Is it possible to carry away the whole house in these minutes?

“I fear the moment when our house will get ‘The Call’ of evacuation. The Call is also called a “knock on the roof” warning when a drone fires a non-explosive missile at the roof of the building that is to be bombed by the Israeli air forces – nobody knows how long after.

“How can I abandon all my memories and my life that I spent in that house! Among the stones of my house resides the history of mine, of my sister, my brother, my mother and my father. In my house, I have seen my tiny twin nephews, who were born premature, grow up and become these noisy and lively little kids they are today. This house has witnessed me growing up, graduating from university and becoming who I am today. It has witnessed our happy moments — graduations, birthday parties, my sister’s engagement party and the 2008 and 2012 wars that we survived. It also was our companion at the sad times when my grandmothers, my uncle and my aunts died.

“How can I abandon my room and leave everything in order to save my life? How can I allow them to take away all my accomplishments from me? My room has all my memories; one wall has all my pictures and memories of my friends when I was in London pursuing my master’s degree as well as my pictures from my recent trip to the United States where I met so many inspiring people. My closet has the gifts I received from Japanese children when I was a kid as a participant of a UNRWA program to reward top students – the gifts I dreamt of showing to my kids and grandchildren in the future. Every corner in the room is a part of me. How can I see parts of me scattered among the debris of my house?

It took us more than three years to build our house – finally. Too long, isn’t it? But it was time-consuming because construction materials were rarely allowed to be brought to the Gaza Strip back then. My house is more than bricks laid on top of each other. It is a member of my family, it is our home, a living and pulsating thing to me that l don’t want to lose or think of losing it.

So how can I see my home crumbling down in front of my eyes in one minute and stand still watching? How can the whole world expect me to stand still, watching and talking about peace when that rocket would steal my memories, my past, my house, my land, and, probably, the members of my family.

“Excuse me, World! I stopped believing you and calling out to you to stop the killing of my people for all you will do is send some money after it is too late; as if money can compensate the sorrow, the pain, the hurt and the loss of beloved ones. Excuse me, World! I don’t want to listen to you demanding from us to stay calm and humbly accept the mass murder of our people – I haven’t been listening to you since I sat there seeing an F16 rocket kill another sleeping house in the middle of the night.

“(Written while our house was shaking violently from continuous bombardment all night)”