Palestinians in Gaza are still waiting for clarity on what will happen to them when Israel finally ends its war—which has rained down death and devastation on the Strip for more than eight months.
Although Washington is said to be pressuring Tel Aviv to put forth a plan for Gaza's future, the Israeli government has yet to outline its intentions for the 'day after'. And although there has been much international diplomatic chatter on this topic, Palestinian voices from Gaza are conspicuously missing. One would think their view of the future would be an important factor to consider, given the fact that it is their streets, neighbourhoods and refugee camps that have to be rebuilt after Israel destroyed them.
Amid the widespread death and displacement inflicted on the 2.3 million population living in one of the most densely populated places in the world, Palestinians in Gaza spoke to Al Majalla about their daily struggle to survive.
It was clear from talking to them that the war had inflicted a massive psychological toll on them. Their daily life has been reduced to searching for the most basic necessities like food, water, shelter and medicine. This struggle is further compounded by the constant threat of being killed in Israeli land, air and sea attacks. With nothing off limits—from schools to refugee camps, hospitals to queues for food and water—the past nine months have proven that there really is no safe place in Gaza.
These dire circumstances have cultivated an atmosphere of despair. Families have been displaced so many times that many have lost count. They are constantly picking up whatever meagre belongings they have and marching into the unknown—not knowing if death will follow them to their new place of displacement.
They are trying to just hold on long enough to survive until a ceasefire is eventually reached. The daily grind of trying to survive has kept many from actually processing the devastating losses they have endured, whether it was losing family members, their homes, their limbs, their livelihoods, educations, futures...the list goes on.
Ihab al-Mughrabi
Ihab al-Mughrabi, a 25-year-old man displaced from Gaza’s north to its centre, spoke to Al Majalla about his personal struggle. He worked as a journalist for Arab media before the war broke out but had to stop work for several months because electricity and internet access were so hard to come by. Constantly on the run in search of the next safe place, he has been displaced multiple times. When he could, he stayed with relatives; other times, he was forced to live in a tent.
"We never know where we'll eat or drink—sometimes in a stranger's house, other times in a mosque or public place. We also spend so much time just looking for a toilet between the tents," he explains.
Four months after the war, he partially resumed work, connecting to electricity and internet at a hospital where journalists had set up tents nearby. But every time he was forced to flee, he had to start over again from scratch, struggling to find safety, electricity and internet before he could start working again.
When asked about his vision for the post-war period, he fell silent for a few moments—his expression visibly tired and uncertain. Finally, he replied, "I don't know." After several minutes, he added: "My focus now is to stay alive and keep my loved ones alive until the war ends."
Ohood Shamali
Ohood Shamali, 36, has lived through multiple wars in her short lifetime. Born during the first intifada, she remembers the second and recalls the 2008 Israeli war on Gaza. But this war is like nothing before. It has not only destroyed her homeland but also her mental health.
"I dread leaving the house and walking on the streets now," she said. "The sight of destruction—homes, buildings, streets, parks, and even the seaside promenade—has tarnished all my beautiful memories of my city."
