ZIAD IN GAZA

 The host family serves lunch, lentil soup. I take a sip and realise it needs salt. I feel shy to ask for some knowing the current prices. Instead, my sister suggests that she slices in one of the lemons we have. It tastes better.

After eating, I receive a call from a friend of ours who lives abroad. She is crying so much, I can’t even tell who it is until after a couple of minutes. Many people have called her and sent her messages telling her that her sister was killed. She was trying to reach her family but couldn’t. After many calls, it turned out that the person who died was someone else with the same name.

She tells me how she has had to explain to many people abroad the importance of having strong communication. They wonder, are Gazans so vain that they care more about having a good internet connection than the safety of their families? She told them that communication means people can check on their loved ones, they can hear the news, they can know where to get food and other items. Communication is not about Facebook love posts or Instagram happy pictures, it is about survival.

I received a message. A friend of a friend said she is praying that this whole nightmare will end soon. She said how bad she feels for all the Gazan children, women and men who are going through these horrible days, and how she keeps thinking of us all the time. Even though I don’t know her, her message made me feel like someone had touched my heart with their hands. For a few seconds, I felt loved and cared for, and that was enough for the day.