ZIAD IN GAZA

 

My friend sent via SMS a post she read. A woman finally got the chance to visit her family who fled to another area. Her nephew has taken Spider-Man as an imaginary friend, and he would always share their adventures with her. When she saw him, she asked him how Spider-Man was doing.

“He was killed.”

“How?”

“His house was bombed.”

I often get asked the question of: “Do you think about marriage?” The older I get, the more decisive I become about not wanting to get married in Gaza. If there is one thing I want, it is for my children to have a healthy life, to enjoy riding a bicycle, and to have alive imaginary friends who have stories with happy endings.

I want my children to fall in love at school or university or a theatre activity; not under bombing and amidst suffering a struggle to find food and water. I want my kids to live in a home that gets redecorated to become more beautiful, not a home that gets bombed and ruined. I want my kids to eat good food and to have the normal life that all children deserve.