ZIAD IN GAZA

 

I receive a message from someone living abroad telling me that: “Your dignity is in my heart.” Even though I was touched by this message and others she sent out of support and care, I was a little bit sarcastic about it. My dignity? I have some?

In the “normal’’ times, Gazans don’t have the dignified ability to travel whenever they want. I have been blessed with travelling several times, though there were many chances I lost because I couldn’t secure a travel permit. I would get selected for programmes out of thousands of people around the world, and get disqualified for not being able to travel.

The most horrendous one was when I was selected for a human rights programme and couldn’t get the visa because I had to travel to have a visa interview outside Gaza, which I couldn’t do. The organisation then disqualified me. I sent them an email asking how a human rights programme could disqualify someone because they cannot enjoy their human rights. I begged to attend online, or for them to take action to support me. Nothing happened, and I lost my chance.

The stories go on and on. I can think of five friends of mine who lost master’s and PhD scholarships for not being able to travel.

But dignity could be about things simpler than travelling, such as sleeping in the safety of your own home, with access to water, electricity and internet. Dignity is about having access to a toilet when you want.

Dignity, she said!