Gaza… Unyielding Endurance and Suffering

The Gazan writer Raghad Hammouda

Photography Raghad Hammouda

Gaza is not just a city; it is a space of daily pain that knows no pause. The streets are filled with rubble, buildings are partially or completely destroyed, and tents have become the only shelter for families who have lost everything. The tents are fragile, offering no protection from the scorching summer heat, the biting winter cold, or the rain that seeps through and ruins everything. Yet they are the only place where people can rest their heads to sleep—if they can sleep at all amidst the sounds of explosions and warplanes, as if sleep itself has become a danger.

In these tents, everyone lives under the weight of continuous famine. Bread has become a distant dream, and milk for children is rarely available on a daily basis. Women try to cook what little flour or legumes remain on small stoves, dividing it among all family members, and sometimes a child goes to bed without any food. Markets are nearly empty, and queues at bakeries and water stations stretch for hours under the scorching sun, where cries mix with tears and anger as people struggle to survive.

Diseases multiply day by day. Missiles do not just kill; they leave long-lasting effects on health. Children suffer from chronic asthma due to smoke and dust, and the elderly face heart conditions and persistent psychological stress. Infections spread rapidly among crowded tents, and cholera and food poisoning have become daily threats due to contaminated water. Hospitals are overcrowded, medications are scarce, and there are not enough beds for all patients. Every day, someone dies from an untreated wound or a disease for which no medicine is available.

The occupation and strict restrictions make life even harder. Food and medicine cannot be freely imported, and electricity is cut off for long hours, making food preparation and preservation nearly impossible, while clean water is extremely scarce. Children suffer from constant hunger, psychological distress, and the loss of their childhood. Youth live in despair, without education or work, facing a bleak and uncertain future.

The shelling makes no distinction between young or old, male or female. The constant sound of warplanes and explosions creates perpetual terror, as if death is waiting around every corner. Houses collapse, schools turn into temporary shelters, and even public spaces become dangerous zones.

Night brings no relief. Night in Gaza is full of fear, and silence is not peace but constant tension and anxiety. Families share what little food they have, trying to ease each other’s pain, but even these human moments are limited by despair, hunger, and constant fear. Children cry for no apparent reason—not only from physical pain but from the loss of security and childhood itself.

Water is the lifeline of survival, yet it is extremely scarce, and most of it is contaminated. People are forced to use unsafe water, which leads to severe intestinal diseases in children and adults alike, making survival a daily struggle. Food is extremely limited, and what is available is often insufficient to meet basic nutritional needs.

Psychological trauma permeates every moment. Every explosion, every plane overhead, every wait for water or food leaves a lasting mark on both children and adults. Children grow up quickly, witnessing death and loss, living in constant fear of an unknown tomorrow.

Hospitals operate under enormous pressure. Doctors and nurses work tirelessly, trying to save lives with a severe shortage of tools and medications. The injured sometimes sit on the floor due to a lack of beds, and contagious diseases spread rapidly among those in tents.

Life here is a continuous series of hardships: how to get food? How to protect your children? How to keep yourself safe from disease? How to maintain even a glimmer of hope in a dark future? People here do not have the luxury of rest or a single moment of real peace.

Laughter has become rare, and smiles are difficult, even on the faces of children whose lives should be filled with joy. Every day is a test of endurance, every moment presents overwhelming physical and psychological challenges.

The tents are filled with foul odors, dust, and debris, and disease seeps into every corner. Children fall ill quickly, and their parents are powerless to secure treatment. Those who die, die quietly, often without farewells, because death has become part of the daily reality.

Gaza is not just a place; it is an ongoing experience of pain and endurance, a struggle for survival amidst famine, siege, shelling, and disease. It is a testament to unending suffering, extraordinary human resilience, and a life filled with fear and despair but it is life, despite everything.