Gaza crisis: Reuniting with my neighbour reminded me how much I miss my old life

Amid an unprecedented escalation, an Islamic Relief worker* in Gaza, recounts a happy and heartbreaking reunion.

It has been a couple of days now since a total blackout began. The Palestinian telecommunication company announced that their mobile and internet services will halt as Israel refuses to allow much needed fuel in to Gaza.

Our life continues to be controlled by an external force that appears indifferent to every international and humanitarian law. The ability to call an ambulance if you are injured or giving birth is something we no longer possess. We can’t even call our loved ones to check if they’re alive or not. We are being deprived of our most basic rights.

An unexpected call

I planned to send some photos from my son’s birthday party to my sisters abroad. We managed to have the party, but lost our connection to the outside world. My sisters are eager to hear anything about what is happening in Palestine. I think everyone living abroad with relatives in Gaza feels the same.

They all want to check on their families and friends, but they can’t. In our age of communication, which has made the world into one big village, there are people still deprived the right to access the internet and communication channels.

Just before the blackout, I received a call from Ahmed*, the building attendant at our home in Gaza City. I’d lost contact with him after the first few weeks of this escalation. He is someone who works all day long to provide for his family. He always helped me when I needed a second pair of hands for maintenance work in my flat. On the phone, he told me he’s now in the same city as I am, so I gave him directions to come and see me.

Days later, I overheard someone out in the street asking passersby about me. When I went outside, I met Ahmed with tears in my eyes. Seeing him reminded me that I still have a house, a job, friends, neighbours, and a whole life in Gaza City, which I may never make it back to. As we sat and talked, he told me about his terrifying and exhausting ordeal.

‘I was seeing death right in front of me’

We did not want to leave the building. Some of our neighbours stayed there. We got water, and were able to run the backup generator, though only for under 1 hour each day. That was enough for us. We did not have internet in the building. We followed the news through the radio.

It was a few days after the land operation started, when a bomb fell directly in front of our building’s door. There were bodies of dead and injured people lying in the street, and no one could help them. We ran from the building through the basement with rubble, dust, and a shocking smell filling the air. One of our neighbours got a head injury from some shrapnel as he was fleeing the building. Alhamdulillah, we helped him, and he is fine.

I went to meet my father and we agreed that we had to move south. I took my wife and children, and we walked along the road they’re calling a humanitarian corridor. I was seeing death right in front of me. My kids saw bodies in the streets, burned cars with bodies inside, human skulls and bones. I don’t know how they’ll ever be able to forget such scenes. We walked for a long time to reach the south. There were no cars. My father and another older person had to walk for more than 7 kilometres before we finally found a cart to carry them.

The search for shelter

I was lost for about 3 days in the south. My phone battery had died and it was that long before I was able to charge it. I walked with my wife and children to our relative’s house, but when we arrived, there were already dozens of people in the house. It was very crowded with no place for myself and my family to stay. I told them that I would go to a school shelter in the area for the night.

The school was packed when we arrived after a long walk. My wife and I had to sleep in the playground, without a roof over our heads and next to hundreds of others also sleeping on the ground. The kids had to wait for 2 hours to use the toilets or else just go in the sand nearby. The next morning, I heard there was another school with fewer people in it. I took my family and moved there.

But when we arrived at the school, there were hundreds of people arriving from all over the place. I could not put my family in that situation. I managed to charge my phone to 10% thanks to someone charging phones near the school. I called my brother, who was in another city staying at his friend’s house. He told me that there was a place for us there. After walking for around 5 hours, finally we were able to rest there. The situation was not much better as we still had to spend all day refilling water and looking for food and an electricity supply, but at least we have a roof over our heads and we are able to stay together and have some privacy.

Once I charged my phone, I called you and I came to see you. I kept asking people about you and they told me to walk a little further. My kids saw your car and told me we’d found you. And now here we are meeting. Many of our neighbours from the building are scattered in different places. I have been in touch with some of them, but others, I do not know about. It is like a new Nakba. It is like living 100 years in the past with no food, no transportation, no communication, nothing at all.

I miss my old life

Meeting Ahmed* reminded me of our life before we had to leave our houses. I miss that life. Just the normal, stupid, simple life we used to live. I’d give everything I have to go back to that time.

We loved our streets, the trees that dropped leaves on my car, our trips to the sea with the kids, my wife getting angry because their clothes were full of sand afterwards, heated debates over what pizza we are going to have for dinner, our repeated requests for the kids to clear their plates, having to wake up early for work, field visits and paperwork at the office, parents meetings at the kids’ school, enjoying 8 hours’ worth of electricity, the humid weather all year long, weekend nights with the guys, Fridays lunches. I miss all of it.

Please help Islamic Relief support people in desperate need in Gaza: Donate to our Palestine Emergency Appeal now.

*This blog is anonymised to protect the safety and security of our colleague.

Editor’s note: This blog was submitted amid a fast-changing and deepening crisis on the ground. This information was correct as of the afternoon of Sunday 19 November.