Category: Messages from Gaza Now October 2023

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

Another day

Hossam in Gaza

Like any other day, I went to the market. It is no longer the market I know, more than half of the stores, the buildings on both sides of the street, were destroyed and damaged. The street is very black, full of dust and rubble, broken glass, bits of doors and windows, electricity and phone cables spread out along the road, fallen from the poles. Dirty water mixed with sewage, as the infrastructure was hit and many underground pipes were damaged. Piles of garbage everywhere, no garbage collection, no municipal staff to repair the damaged water and sewage pipes.

Passing by the bakery, no-one is waiting in line, people are in one big crowd shouting at each other, fighting over the line order. Some men and women are fighting, beating each other with their hands, other people try to calm down the crowd with no success, the bakery owner closes the bakery door. It’s made people even more angry.

Passing by a school, another fight and more shouting, people have lost their tempers, people get angry for any small reason, or even for no reason. Who can blame them? No water, no food, no bathrooms, no privacy, no dignity, no hope. Just despair and fear.

Continued walking down toward Salahaddeen Street, with no purpose.

Some men were carrying bread flour bags of 35 kilos each, I asked one of them where he had bought his from.

‘There is a flour mill on street 20’

‘Can I still find some there? Or maybe it’s finished?’

‘I believe you can find some’.  

Here I am now, walking with a purpose. For the last 3 days we have no cooking gas, we have started to cook our food and bread on a fire.

Remembered a colleague living on street 20, I call him saying that I am nearby. He tells me to continue on to his place and that he will catch up with me in 15 minutes, as he is now in the supermarket.

Passed by the mill and bought the bread flour. I carried it approximately 70 metres to his home. His father, who knows me, was very kind, he was very welcoming and provided me with coffee and biscuits. He brought out some plastic chairs and we sat in front of his home. We chatted, mainly about the war, and the struggle people have to secure the minimum basic needs. We talked about the people we both know who have been killed, or injured, or have lost a sibling or a home.

15 minutes later, when my colleague arrived, he looked terrified, full of dust and sand. He had just left the supermarket when it was bombed by an Israeli airstrike. He survived but he saw many people around him that were dead or injured. He could not stop, fearing another bombing could take place. It’s happened many times before, people running toward injured people to help and there is another strike at the same spot killing and injuring more people.

15 minutes until he was calm again and able to speak and breathe normally. I felt I must leave. I asked them if I could leave the bread flour at their place until I find a way to bring it to my father-in-law’s home. The distance is more than 3 kilometres; I don’t believe I can do it carrying 35 kilos.

Abeer and her sister were waiting for me at the home of her cousin, who is living in the middle of the camp near the main market. She had just finished her work at the shelter-school, she’d changed the dirty bandages of injured people, she’d helped a mother giving birth and distributed some assistive devices. Her cousin is hosting two displaced families of friends and colleagues from his work at the Gaza power plant. As I arrived at his home, there was shouting and screaming. The two families were fighting inside over a clash between their children.

Abeer and her sister came out and we walked home.

Arriving home, my mother had been calling for me many times. She wanted to go to the bathroom. No-one there could carry her from bed to bathroom. She could not hold it in, she did it in the bed. I was very frustrated. I took her to the bathroom, cleaned her with cold water. She cursed me, she shouted at me, she did not know that warm water is a luxury we can’t provide now. I was really angry but held myself and did not react. I finished washing her, put on her clean clothes, brought her to bed, brought her some food and gave her her medication. Back to the bathroom, washing her clothes, no electricity, no washing machine, so washing by hand in a plastic jerry can. Filling water from the barrel on the first floor, bringing it up to the second floor several times. 

While sitting on the ground washing her clothes trying to control my anger and frustration, I remembered my childhood. There was no electricity in town when I was a child, for sure there were no washing machines. We were 5 brothers and 4 sisters and my father and my mother.

My mother at that time was doing all the washing for all the family, not only the washing, the cooking, the cleaning, the hugging and much more. I felt so bad, but not angry anymore, not frustrated anymore. Just exhausted.

I washed my body and my clothes and hung them on the laundry rope. Lunch was ready, we all ate downstairs. I went up to my room.

By the way, today in the market I bought some headphones to use with my mobile so I could listen to the radio app. Radios don’t work for mobiles without headphones attached. I did not know that.

Laying on my mattress, I attached the headphones and opened the radio app. Moving from channel to channel, it is all news about the war, counting the dead and injured, political analysts speaking with the deep voices of well-informed people, reporters shouting to make sure they are heard. I don’t need this. Moving to other channels, and suddenly…music. I know this channel. it is a radio channel broadcasting classical music, only music and only classical. It was Mozart’s Symphony No.15, followed by another symphony led by Yuri Torchinsky. I lay down, closed my eyes and fell asleep. It was some well-deserved shut-eye. 

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

War crimes and other extra information

Hossam in Nuseirat Refugee Camp, south of Gaza City

Every day, every night, bombing, striking, shelling does not stop, sometimes heavy and continuous, sometimes with a break, each day we say to ourselves: ‘This is the worst day since the war started on Gaza’ Another day comes to tell us: ‘You did not see the worst yet!’

Yes, yesterday, bombing and mainly shelling from land and sea starting around noon, with no stop until today 7 am. Bombing that shakes the air, shakes the walls, shakes the trees and shakes our hearts and minds. 

23 days and we are still counting: dead, injured, destruction, agony, humiliation, starvation, disease. 23 days and every day we lose part of our hope, part of our strength, part of our humanity. 

Hamas killed civilians. A war crime. They must be brought to accountability at the International Court of Justice. Based on International Human Rights Law and International Humanitarian Law.

Can we talk about the other side?  

20 years ago, Israel released secret documents from 1948 and before. They admit, they confess that they committed massacres against Palestinians in many villages, killing in cold blood hundreds of innocent people including men, women and children, in Tantora, in Deir Yaseen, in Kafr Qasem, and in many other villages. Besides these documents, many of their former soldiers went on the media and confessed that they participated in killing civilians, raping women and killing them. Some spoke with regret and some spoke with pride for what they did. These are crimes against humanity based on the same International Human Rights law and International Humanitarian Law. Are they going to be brought to justice? 

Israelis dismissed Palestinians from their lands, dispossessed them, cleansing all cities and villages, clear and obvious genocide. Destroying 800 villages, creating a catastrophe for a whole nation. Forcing them to be refugees in many countries all over the world, but mainly in Syria, Jordan and Lebanon.    

For many years Israel kept chasing the Nazi criminals who escaped and hid after World War 2 and brought them to justice. That is great; that makes me happy. Criminals must be brought to justice. All criminals, without differentiation, without exceptions.   

Are those Israeli criminals from 1948 and before – those who admit and confess – going to be brought to justice? They already admitted, they confessed! 

Now Israel has declared a war against Hamas; all the western countries are supporting them. 

Let’s have a look at this war:

302 Palestinians were killed in Gaza between 6pm on 28th October and noon on 29th October. This brings the cumulative reported fatality toll in Gaza since the start of the assault to 8,005, of whom 67 per cent are children and women. 

What has this to do with fighting Hamas?

Israel destroyed and damaged 55% of the Gaza Strip housing units around 200,000 housing units destroyed or damaged, including the destruction of the water, sewage, electricity and phone infrastructure, forcing 2.1 million people to squeeze into a place where 1 million already live. 

What has this to do with fighting Hamas?

On 28th and 29th October, the neighbourhoods of Al Shifa and Al Quds hospitals in Gaza City and of the Indonesian Hospital in northern Gaza have been reportedly bombarded, causing damage. Thousands of patients and medical staff, as well as about 117,000 Internally Displaced Persons  are staying in these facilities.

What has this to do with fighting Hamas?

As of 29th October, more than 1.4 million people in Gaza out of 2.1 million were internally displaced, with some 671,000 sheltering in 150 UNRWA facilities. The average number of Internally Displaced Persons per shelter is over three times their intended capacity. 

What has this to do with fighting Hamas?

Israel prevents entry of any kind of fuel and has cut the water supply and electricity for 2.1 million residents in Gaza Strip. 

What has this to do with fighting Hamas?

The telecommunications shutdown by the Israelis has brought the already challenging delivery of humanitarian assistance to a complete halt, and is depriving people of life-saving information. As noted on 28th October by the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, Volker Türk: 

‘The bombing of the telecommunications infrastructure places the civilian population in grave danger. Ambulances and civil defence teams are no longer able to locate the injured, or the thousands of people estimated to be still under the rubble. Civilians are no longer able to receive updated information on where they can access humanitarian relief and where they may be in less danger.’ What has this to do with fighting Hamas?

Over 40 per cent of Gaza’s education facilities have been hit since the assault on Gaza started, including 38 schools destroyed and/or severely damaged, 75 of which have sustained moderate damage and another 108 with minor damage.

What has this to do with fighting Hamas?

Israel is preventing all food, aid, medical or any other supplies from getting to the 2.1 million residents of the Gaza Strip. The normal daily truckloads of goods entering Gaza are 450 – 500 truckloads per day of all kinds of vital materials. Only 81 trucks with some food and medical supplies have been allowed in over the last 23 days. 

What has this to do with fighting Hamas? 

No one can leave or enter Gaza, in clear violation of the human right to free movement. 

What has this to do with fighting Hamas?

Cutting the electricity made many sewage pump stations stop operating and sewage is leaking in the streets everywhere, causing the danger of water borne diseases. 

What has this to do with fighting Hamas?

Cleansing Gaza City and the northern villages and camps by forcing all the residents to flee their homes in clear violation of International Humanitarian Law; for more than 30 years I have been working in the humanitarian field with Save The Children International, Action Against Hunger and many other organisations. My wife also, who worked at the International Committee of the Red Cross, Humanity and Inclusion and many other international humanitarian organisations, we studied International Humanitarian Law. We believed in it, we learned that these laws should provide justice and the prevention of any harm to civilians and innocent people. Especially in war time.

Our daughter is following in our footsteps. She studied Law at university and now she is abroad studying for a Masters Degree in Human Rights and Democracy. 

Why should only we abide and adhere to International Human Rights Law and International Humanitarian Law? Why not the others: the strong, the ones who kill, the ones who have the ability to prevent civilians and innocent people from accessing basic needs? Just because they can? Why?

 

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

22nd October 2023

After a terrifying and dreadful night of bombardment and explosions all around us, never knowing where or when they could hit us, I had to focus on my mother.

My 83 year old bedridden mother has a 12 centimeter tear inside her stomach. She takes Nexium granules twice a day before eating, to protect her stomach from itself. It doesn’t always work. Once every 2-3 months she starts to have severe pain and vomiting, continuous, painful. When it happens she stops eating anything, she stops drinking anything, even water,  because anything that enters her stomach is immediately thrown out with pain. Sometimes it stops by itself in two to three days, sometimes it gets worse when her oesophagus herniates due to the vomiting and starts to bleed inside her stomach, then she vomits dark brown liquid, this is internal bleeding. This is a red light to take her to hospital. From experience I know the process, they give her Nexium powder mixed with saline into her vein.

She must go to the hospital!

What hospital? Which one? One of those which have been completely destroyed? One of those which are receiving hundreds of injured all the time? Who is going to have time for an old lady with a stomach problem while there are hundreds in need of life-saving interventions?

I decided to go to the market and UNRWA Primary Health Care Unit to look for the items I need in order to do the procedure here at home. Powdered Nexium, saline, cannula, syringe, alcohol and dressing.

Walking from home to the market, traces of last night’s bombing on both sides of the street, houses and buildings completely damaged, destroyed, above the heads of residents. No prior warning. Absolute massacre.

Passing by an olive orchard, poor olives, it is the cultivating season, no one will cultivate the olives this year, olives will fall on the ground, dry and rotten, olive trees will dry and all the branches will fall and be scattered by the autumn wind, birds and doves will not find olive branches to build their nests for future generations. 

Bombing very nearby, behind the olive orchard. Felt the bombing, the sound is very loud, a wave of hot wind passes over my body, moves me from my place. I stop and get close to the fence of the orchard. After a few minutes I hear screaming, people crying and shouting. I move fast, past the orchard and on the right side of a narrow street. At the end of the street, a house bombed, people pulling out bodies form under the rubble, a small car passes by me very fast, the driver is hooting the horn of the car, passing by me I saw, for a single moment a woman in the back seat holding an injured child, a girl maybe 7 or 9 years old, it was very fast, could not know what type of injury or the exact age of the girl. But I saw blood and dust all over her body.

It is too much, I’ve had enough, I can’t continue anymore, 55 years full of violence, blood, death, agony displacement, poverty, sadness. helplessness, despair, I can’t take it anymore, I have no days left in me for such a situation, no more, I want to give up, I mean it, I am really ready to leave.

In times like these days, in war times like these, in 2009, 2012, 2014, 2021, 2022, 2023, when my daughter Salma said she couldn’t take it any more I told her to listen to the Peter Gabriel song, ‘Don’t give up, don’t give up because you know you can’.

Peter Gabriel helped me a lot before, he doesn’t help me now, sorry Peter, I can’t handle it any more.

There is my mother, there is my daughter, there are my sisters and brothers who all believe I can, who all believe I should be there for them.

I continue walking toward the market, could not stop my tears, I wanted to shout, to scream, to curse. I wanted a hug, I really need a hug.

Arriving at the UNRWA Primary Health Care Unit where I am volunteering with Humanity and Inclusion, I saw a doctor, I approached him explaining my mother’s situation and needs.

 ‘Sorry, there is no Nexium in the pharmacy, no cannulas. It’s all been distributed to the shelters for caring for the injured who were prematurely discharged from hospital to free up places for the more recently injured. But I can get you the saline.

‘Thanks, Doctor’

I took the saline and go out to look for what I need in the pharmacies, arriving at the heart of the market. Oh my God, what a terrible image, a huge building completely destroyed, at least 12 other buildings around, beside, behind and in front are damaged. Very ugly, gloomy, frightening image. Since the start of the war on Gaza up to yesterday, 42% of Gaza Strip housing units, 146,756 units, destroyed or damaged. Is there any more clear proof of genocide?

Walking from pharmacy to pharmacy, from street to street, from Nuseirat Camp to Bureij Camp on the other side of Salahaddeen Street. After more than three hours walking and visiting 17 pharmacies and walking 13 kilometers as shown by the step-count app on my mobile. Finally, I found everything I need for my mother. While I was walking back home, my mother suffered this ugly pain. My parents-in-law knew a neighbour who is a nurse, they called her and she did not hesitate to come. She did the necessary for my mother, it was 13.35 when she finished, Since then, my mother is asleep.

I need to sleep.

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

Buddy

My dog, Buddy, he is a small white lovely dog, most of the time playing and jumping around, barking with his soft voice, running after street cats if they dare to enter the home. He is a courageous dog. But not when there is bombing, he has no courage, not at all, he’s not a coward, but he is afraid of the bombing, who isn’t??

He is always able to hear the bombing moments before us, he runs toward me or Abeer and hides behind us, and if we lay on the bed at night he jumps over our heads and rounds his body around my head or Abeer’s head and starts trembling and breathing fast as if he had been running for hours. Nothing can calm him, his body becomes very tense, it’s not easy to move him away from my head. I feel helpless, don’t know what to do to release his fear.

Buddy, like hundreds of thousands of children in Gaza who are afraid, panicked, unable to express their feelings, no one is able to help them or release their fear. Their parents are also helpless. as they also feel afraid and panicked. Is there any end soon for this nightmare????

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

21st  October 2023

3.55 pm

Sitting in the street beside the front door of a neighbour’s who has solar panels. Since arriving in Nuseirat ten days ago I come to this neighbour bringing my laptop, my mobile and a power bank to charge them. He is a very gentle and nice man. In his front yard at his home, he’s installed several electricity cables and connections, on the ground you see many phones, small batteries, power banks connected to be charged, all the neighbours in the area bring their devices to be charged every day.

He receives people from 8 in the morning until sunset, three of his sons are serving people, receiving every one, helping as much as they can, very polite. What a wonderful solidarity.

I took my laptop, fully charged, and put my mobile on charge instead. I decide to wait half an hour instead of going home and coming back later. While sitting outside his door on the pavement, I wrote this.

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

Friends

I called a friend today.  He moved from Gaza City to Rafah with his family.  Rafah is the last place in the Gaza Strip before you get to the border with Egypt.

‘How are you?’

‘I am ok’

‘The family?’

‘We are all ok’.

‘Where are you?’

‘At a school in Tel Elsultan in Rafah’.

‘Why in a school?  I can find you an apartment.  A friend of mine in Rafah offered to receive me and my family there.  He will gladly receive you.’

‘No. No thanks, I am good here.’

‘What are you talking about?  I know how people in the schools are.’

‘Don’t worry.  I’m fine here.  Many friends have offered me apartments but I’m staying here in the school.’

‘OK, my friend, as you wish. Be safe’.

End of call.

What a stubborn man!  He refuses help.  One day his pride will kill him!

Wait.  Why judge him?  Thousands of homes were bombed without warning.  Maybe he was afraid to go to a home that he doesn’t know.  Maybe he believed it’s more safe in the shelter-school.

These schools were designated as shelters in an emergency by UNRWA and the United Nations Humanitarian Affairs office in coordination with the Israelis years ago after the 2014 war.  They should be protected.

Yet, in Khan Younis, three days ago a bombing took place at the gate of one of these shelter-schools and five people were killed, twenty two people injured. Five days ago another shelters-school in Maghazi Camp was bombed and three were killed.

Anyway, each person is trying to survive in the way they think is best for them.

I called another friend, Majed, who has also moved from North Gaza to Khan Younis to another shelter-school.

‘How are you?’

‘I am good!’

‘How is the situation in the school?’

‘I am no longer there.  I came back to my home in Gaza.’

‘What?! But it’s very dangerous.’

‘Whatever.  It’s much better than staying in that school.  4000 people in a very limited space, women and children are squeezed inside 22 rooms.  Men are on the ground in the front yard of the school, queues waiting to use the very dirty bathroom, no water, no food, no electricity, no light at night, no privacy, lots of tension, people fight and argue over anything.  I can’t tolerate this life.  Here I am at my home and I’m not going anywhere. If I survive, I survive.  If I die let it be with some dignity.’

I could say nothing but: 

‘Be well, my friend, stay safe, hope to see you soon’.

He was outraged when he was speaking, I can understand.

Another friend, Jaber, he went to Egypt two days before the war.  He couldn’t come back as the border with Egypt is closed.

His extended family moved from east Khan Younis to take refuge at his home in Gaza on the second day of the war.  A small apartment with 32 people: old mothers, women, young people and little children.

The third day there was a bombing of a home, on the other side of the 20 meter wide street from his home, while his family were inside.  The whole front of the house was completely destroyed. Like a miracle, not one of his family was dead or injured.  I am unable to realise or imagine what he would feel or think.  Can any of you?

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

20^th October 2023

I’m walking towards the market.  Abeer’s cousin lives there and has internet access.

Walking – no fuel anymore in my car, and, of course, no fuel at all in the gas stations

as quantities entering Gaza from Israel (like all the goods from Israel) are limited and never enough for more than just one week.  It’s part of the blockade and collective punishment against Gaza.

Walking and trying to find any vehicle to give us a ride.

After 10 minutes walking, a big van stopped and took us with him.  He was a

gentle man.  In the van there was a woman sitting in the back seat, she was also being provided a ride by the van owner.

About 100 metres from the market, near a shelter-school in a narrow side street leading to the main road where the market is – a big explosion behind us.  A huge black smoke cloud rises to the sky.  The van trembles, dust fills the car.  The driver stops,  many people start to run out of the school,  As we leave the car, another big explosion in front of us, much closer, same wave of smoke and fire, people screaming, shouting, crying, running…I don’t know where to go, confused…

Shall I go back? Shall I continue? Maybe the market would be safer, as thousands of people are in the street there.  Safety??!!!!

Immediately another explosion to the west side, and much closer to us, rubble above us, many people fall on the ground, some people injured by the flying rubble.  I was beside the wall of the school.  I could not breathe.  Nizar, Abeer’s cousin, is selling tomato and onion in the market, could not think,  ran like hell toward where he is located, absolutely stupid move, absolutely not rational. Who is rational in this mad war?  Who is rational in this slaughter house, yes, it is a slaughter house.  The Israeli butchers are using every single minute to slaughter like sheep as many Palestinians as possible, before the world wakes up.

The bombing was on a side street off the main market street, rubble, sand, mud, broken glass everywhere.  The dust cloud was still in the sky, making the noon-time light look like sunset,  yes, it is a sunset, no light in our life.

Arriving at Nizar’s spot, all his merchandise full of dust and sand, Nizar as well.  He is OK,  he has a small cut on his hand,  never mind,  he is alive.

I thought to call Abeer, so she won’t worry for us.  She was OK,  She didn’t think these bombings were near us.  We hear bombing every minute.  We have no access to news, we can’t know what is happening or where the bombing is taking place,  there is no way. That’s why Abeer heard the bombing and continued whatever she was doing, as usual.

I decided not to tell her what happened.  And went back home walking.

Walking is not the same as driving.  While driving I see on both sides of the road 

destroyed houses, many destroyed houses and, every day, newly destroyed houses.

While walking it’s different,  I see these houses much more closely, I see more details than I can see while driving,  I see how  buildings of 3 or 4 floors are crushed on top each other, ceilings attached to the ceilings below, with people’s furniture and belongings spread over the street,  some houses are cut in half,  Could see half a bed, part of a kitchen, a bathroom with private clothes all around, books, school bags torn and full of dust.

The majority of these houses were bombed full of residents, many were brought out dead,  maybe many still are dead under the rubble as there are no machines to remove it and reveal what is beneath.  What a destiny, what a way to leave this unjust world!

Finally at home after 25 minutes walking,  did not buy anything today from the market,  we will manage with what we have at home for today.

Ending this episode with some good news from my daughter, Salma, in Lebanon, where she is studying for her Masters degree,  the university granted her a full tuition scholarship.

Hossam Madhoun

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

In the market again

Thursday 19th October 2023

At 9am moving toward the UNWRA clinic with my wife to co-ordinate and distribute the available assistive devices, dignity kits for women, crutches, and wheelchairs for the people we identified yesterday in the four shelter-schools.

Arriving at the market, no day is like any other day, each day is different.

In the market there is a huge crowd.  The people are the same, gloomy faces, heads down.  Some changes have happened.  People are not in a hurry anymore.  People are walking like zombies.  People are walking as if with no purpose.

While walking like all the others, a man bumped into me.  My reading glasses, which I hang at my chest, attached to my shirt, fall on the ground and break.  The man continues walking without saying anything, not even looking back to see who he bumped into.

My plan was to arrive at the UNWRA clinic, leave Abeer there and go to get some shopping. Now a new item on the list, reading glasses.  How can I read or write without them?

Anyway another item to buy today beside bread and vegetables, maybe a chicken if I find one.  No fruit in the market of any kind at all.

On Tuesday at 4.30am the Israeli air force struck one of the only two bakeries in the camp.  Nine people killed in the bombing, the workers there were working and preparing as much bread as possible.

The line waiting at the bakery has doubled. There were a few hundred people, 50 metres along the side of the street.  Now the people in the line are countless.

Forget about bread.  It will take half a day to get enough bread for one day.  You can’t buy the quantity you want – limited quantities allowed so every one can get some.

What to do?  I will buy bread flour and cook at home.  But how?  The same way our grandparents used to do 80 years ago in our homeland in Almajdal  (which has now become an Israeli city called Ashkelon).  On a fire!

Luckily my in laws are living in a semi-rural area.  We can find wood for a fire.  Don’t know how long it will last, but let’s plan day by day. 

Went to all the supermarkets and grocery stores looking for bread flour.  There is none. Nil.  Nothing.

A few hours passed and I see a man carrying a bag of 30 kilos of bread flour.  I ask him where he got it. 

‘Albaba Supermarket!’

‘Where’s that?’

‘In Bureij Camp!’

Bureij Camp is also in the middle area of the Gaza Strip.  It is on the east side of Salahaddeen street while Nuseirat is on the west side, adjacent to the sea.

What a dilemma?!!  Going towards and along Salahaddeen road is not safe at all.  But there’s no choice.  I drove directly to Bureij.  The supermarket was in the middle of the camp.  Luckily there was still bread flour.  I bought 30 kilos.  The man refuses to sell me more, saying that other people also need it –  ‘I have my own customers and I don’t want to let them down if they come to buy’  Fair enough!

Back to the UNWRA clinic.  Abeer and her sister, who decided to volunteer with her, and some other colleagues were there after a long day in the shelters.  They were tired, exhausted, it was obvious.

I asked, did you eat or drink anything?

They said no.

I went to the nearby grocery and bought some juice and biscuits.  I was very hungry and thirsty as well.  While walking back I took out a biscuit and started to eat it when I saw a chid sitting on the pavement looking at me.  He looked poor with unclean clothes, barefoot.  I took a biscuit and offered it to him.  He didn’t want to take it at the beginning but I insisted and he took it.

I decide never to do it again.  I mean never to eat biscuit in the street.

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

Don’t know what Day

I don’t know which day it is in this damn war 

Sitting at the desk of the UNRWA clinic in Nuseirat 

My wife decided yesterday that she can’t stay doing nothing, she is working for Humanity and Inclusion. They have a stock of assistive devices, medical supplies, wheel-chairs and similar things.

She contacted her colleague, Osama; he was already in the field looking for any extra hands to help. 

We went to the UNRWA schools where displaced people took refuge. 

We visited four schools to count how many disabled persons, pregnant women, old sick people, lactating babies, and the injured are in need of medical supplies.

The crowds in the schools were hell, more than 4000 people in each school.

The schools consist of 22 classrooms, 2 administration rooms and 12 bathrooms, with a front yard of about 120 meters squared. 

Inside the rooms, women and children were squeezed in

Men are all in the front yard, no one can imagine how they manage, if they manage?!!

No water supply, skin diseases start to spread like a pandemic.

We met the volunteers and those responsible for the shelter to get the information about the people in need and what types of need.  Hundreds gathered and surrounded us hoping that we can help to bring food or any other basic needs. Crowd, noise, 5000 people talk, scream, fight, argue at the same time in a very limited space, children crying, the smell is unbearable. 

In 3 hours, we gathered the needed information.

278 disabled persons, 

301 pregnant women 

167 lactating babies

77 injured in need of medical supplies 

198 old men and women in need of assistive devices, wheel-chairs, crutches and so on 

Back to the UNRWA clinic were Abeer’s colleague coordinated bringing all the stock from Deir Al Balah to Nuseirat. 

Abeer started the crosscheck with the UNRWA team to avoid duplication in the distribution. 

Osama arrived with a big truck full of materials, we needed to bring it down into the store of the clinic. It was me, Osama, Abeer, two female volunteers and two male UNRWA staff. 

Two hours to download the truck, we were all exhausted, it is late, darkness is in less than 45 minutes, absolutely dangerous to move at dark, we were really afraid, we decide to postpone the distribution for tomorrow. 

It is tomorrow when I am writing this. Osama arrived with a new truck needing to be unloaded. There is enough people to help, it is 11 in the morning. 

 

   

 

   

Hossam Madhoun in Gaza

Day 9 

9:52 pm 

On my mattress, alone in the darkness, using the light of my mobile, risking losing the battery,  hoping to finish putting what I have in my head on paper, yes, I am now rewriting what I already wrote on paper, as yesterday I succeeded in charging part of the laptop battery at the nearby mosque which has solar panels. 

Sitting on the mattress trying to recall what happened during this strange day.

Bombing from time to time, and the awful sound of the drone all the time above my head. 

At 10 in the morning, I went to Nuseirat market. 

Nuseirat camp is in the middle area of Gaza Strip where I took refuge with my wife and my disabled 83 year old mother after leaving my home in Gaza City looking for unguaranteed safety at my wife’s family’s home.

The camp has one main street cutting through the middle from Salahaddeen Road to the sea road.

The main market located in the middle of this street is about 200 meters in length, on both sides are stores, supermarkets, groceries, vegetable sellers, meat, chicken, home needs, clothes stores, second hand items, everything is in this market.  

Nuseirat camp has 35,000 inhabitants. Suddenly, within two days it received more than 100,000 people who ran away from the north and Gaza City seeking refuge and safety. The majority took refuge in the 13 schools of the camp, with nothing, absolutely nothing but what they were able to bring with them. No means of life, no food, no water, no beds, blankets, mattresses, carpets, nothing. Hoping that UNRWA and International Non-governmental Organisations would supply them with basic needs. 

I know Nuseirat camp, it’s always busy. It only consists of this street that is 200 meters long and 20 meters wide. 

Arriving at the market at 10:20 am. It’s only 5 minutes drive from the home of my father-in-law. 

What I saw? This is not the market I know! Thousands and thousands of people everywhere, men, women, boys, girls, old people, mothers carrying their children, all ages. Moving back and forth, left and right, going in and out of the stores on both sides of the street trying to buy some bread or basic items. 

Looking at the people’s faces, there is something wrong, not normal, the faces are very gloomy, men with their heads down, you feel immediately that they are broken, weak, defeated, unable to provide safety for their children, the first thing that fathers should be able to provide for their families, they’ve lost it. You walk between the people and you feel the fear, the panic, the despair, you feel the darkness they move through, it is daylight –  in the morning, and it feels very dark, darkness that’s turned into something material, something you can touch by hand. 

Everybody’s moving fast, you would think they are in a hurry to buy food or essential needs. But with a close look you realize they go fast wanting to hide their feelings of shame and fear, shame that they are not entitled to feel, but they do.  They want to hide their helplessness, their worries, their concerns, their anger and frustration. 

It is judgment day.

They left their homes not knowing if ever they will return again, the stories of their fathers and grandfathers, about the displacement and forced migration in 1948 and 1967 is flashing in their heads.  Palestinians lost their homes, their lands, and many lost their lives in that genocide. They are so panicked that it is a new genocide. Is this our destiny as Palestinians? Every once in a while, we should go through a new genocide???

Trying to focus. Why did I come to the market? Yes, I need to buy some bread and food. At the bakery a line of more than 100 people, it will take hours to get some bread. I asked my brother in law to get in the queue and I go to the supermarket to buy the other needs. 

Sound of nearby bombing, very loud. Every single person in the market frozen including me for a single moment, as if some one put us on freeze by a remote control, and then took it off again. People continue doing what they were doing, no one stops to know where the bombing is, as every 5 minutes there is a bombing. Hundreds of bombings every day, everywhere, stories of houses destroyed on the top of their inhabitants. 

We are cut off from the world, no internet, no radios, no TV, no news. We are the news, but we don’t know about ourselves, we only have mobiles that connect with difficulty after several attempts.  No one can catch up with what is happening. 

While collecting what I need in the supermarket, the mobile rang, it is my wife Abeer, she shouts: 

‘Come back now, Salma our daughter had a panic attack, she is weeping without control.’  

Salma our sole daughter is in Lebanon.

I drove back fast, took my brother-in-law without getting any bread,  

On the way home we saw an ambulance and some people gathering near a destroyed home, adjacent to the cemetery which is located between our home and the market 300 meters from each.

Two covered bodies lay on the side of the road, and paramedics were carrying another body bringing it beside the other two. 

We arrived:

 ‘What happen?’  I asked.

Abeer answered: Salma heard on the news in Lebanon that a bombing took place at a home near the cemetery, she knows that our home is not far away, she panicked, she thought that we might have got hurt. 

I called Salma. After at least 13 times trying to call and the call collapsing, Salma finally answered.

‘My beloved daughter, we are safe, it was away from us.’ 

It took me 5 minutes to calm her down. 

Me and Abeer are in Nuseirat, the cemetery was 300 meters away from her and 300 meters from me, yet we did not know what happened. My daughter, 270 kilometers  away in Lebanon, got the news about us before we did. They keep us in the dark. 

Well, enough for tonight, my mobile battery is running out and the pain in my back is not bearable any more.