ZIAD IN GAZA

 My exhausted brain refuses to stop thinking about all the bad scenarios that I, my loved ones, and all Gazans face if this nightmare does not end soon. I got brief and temporary access to the internet, and I unintentionally saw videos and photos of horrible things Gazans are going through. They made me realise that death could be a merciful fate. Awake and terrified, I knew it was going to be another long night.

The people in the next house seem to have had a long night too. Their child did not stop crying for one minute. Yesterday, I was on a call with my friend. His wife, a doctor, gave birth to their third child, whom he described as “healthy, beautiful yet a very loud crier”. He tells me that now begins a new journey of finding everything a baby needs. “In our house, the one we evacuated from, we had many items of the older children,” he told me. “Also, my wife started preparing the needs for the new one. We had to leave everything behind.”

There was an additional problem he tells me. “Can you imagine that right now I have no legal proof that my son is actually my son?” he says. “My wife gave birth and the doctor gave us a signed paper that she did so, but there is nothing else to prove that this boy is ours. What if we get the chance to leave Gaza to save our lives? They won’t let us take the boy.”

On a different note, he tells me that he filled his gas canister, which usually costs $17 to fill, for $157. To be honest, he sounded happier about the canister than the arrival of his baby. He was lucky because he was able to find a place to fill the canister and had money to do so. Our hosting family have been tirelessly working on filling a gas canister but in vain.