As a Palestinian and a Gazan in particular, I would like to tell you a short story. A real one; not to
entertain you nor to make you sleep fast!
This short story, I am writing while attacks are near my house, is to tell you a part of our daily life.
It started when a too loud explosion wake me up as I used to sleep after spending a long day at University attending classes. I get out of the bed so fast freaking out and crying : " the kids! the kids!". I mean my little nephews whose dad is abroad doing his MA; one is three years old and the other is a year and a half. Not only me in the house who was worried about the kids but all my brothers and my mom and their mom, of course. We all huged them; the three-year- old nephew named Mahmoud was very frightened while the younger, thanks God, did not understand what was going on out there.
This was only the start! We prepared ourselves for a very hot night. Explosions were too many to count. The house was shaking countless times. Thus, we did not sleep all night except one or two hours. I was updating my friends on Facebook with what happened with us in northern Gaza. I wanted to show the world the inhumanity of Israel. I tried at least to get benefits of Facebook!
Pause! Forgive me for not arranging the events chronologically since attacks, at this very moment, are near our house. And guess what? I am using my PC right now and my nephew, Mahmoud, is between my arms watching his favorite cartoon movie. I am trying to distract his attention from the explosions we hear every now and then. Yet most of the cases I could not. I could not. I only could feel his heart beating so fast.
What I can say now is that we, Gazans, are living a critical, dangerous situation. But let me tell you something before I end this endless story. I get afraid whenever I hear an explosion. I am a 20-year-old girl getting afraid of these violent explosions. How about those little kids? But this is not the thing. The thing is that I have to pretend to be strong so my nephews will not be frightened. We, Gazans, are human feeling happiness, sadness, losses, love, hatred and so many feelings.
Let's come to the comic part! My nephew, Mahmoud, thinks that '' the strike'' is a man. He told me after hearing a violent explosion near our house that he will hit " the strike" with a " stick". I laughed! Despit all of this violence, I laughed. I thought of how kids think of things they go through.
Actually, there are so many things to tell you. Yet the attacks hit northen Gaza, where I live, prevent me from doing so. Oh, I forgot to tell one final thing. Gazans fear another war by Israel. The 2008 war was unbearable. If you want to know more about it, google " Cast Lead operation", as Israel called it.
Thanks for IOPS for giving me the chance to spread my sufferance. Please pray for us to survive this.