Day in The Life of a Displaced Person

By Shaimaa Eid

Al-Mawasi was no refuge, just another stop in a long journey of suffering, where life is not truly lived, but merely endured.”

Once again, we were forced to leave northern Gaza under a relentless storm of shelling, fear, and destruction—beginning yet another displacement heavy with exhaustion and loss, this time toward Al-Mawasi in Khan Yunis.

There, in the place the occupation claimed was “safe,” with access to water, medicine, and basic humanitarian needs, we found only land overwhelmed with displaced families, weary faces, and recurring pain. Al-Mawasi was no refuge, only another stop in a long journey of suffering, where life is not truly lived, but merely endured.

Our joy at touching the walls of our home again did not last long. It was the same home that had been struck by Israeli shells during the ceasefire. We returned carrying hope, trying with our tired hands and hearts to clear the rubble, to wipe the dust off memories, to bring back a trace of the home’s old heartbeat.

https://www.palestinechronicle.com/zikim-where-gazas-starving-risk-death-for-a-bag-of-flour/embed/#?secret=hkQtHyPQMx#?secret=JUrIg7YhuK

We believed that love would be enough to stay—that holding on to our home, even with all its wounds, was the least we could do. As a family, we made a promise: we would not leave, we would stay as long as we had breath in our bodies.

But the occupation, with its violence and arrogance, stripped us of even that right. And once again, we were left with nothing but the bitterness of forced departure.

In the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood, we were trapped under fire from quadcopter drones. They shelled and chased every movement, making it impossible to open the door or even glance through a window. We lived through endless nights of terror, listening to the constant buzzing above our heads, counting the seconds until the next missile would strike.

Then the occupation installed a crane-mounted sniper position to the east of the neighborhood, targeting anyone who moved through the streets. It felt as though they had surrounded us with a fence of fire, suffocating our lives, tightening the noose around us, and forcing us once more toward displacement.

https://www.palestinechronicle.com/he-loved-dabke-the-sea-and-his-neighbors-why-did-israel-kill-ahmeds-smile/embed/#?secret=eeZQnIwQGb#?secret=U9loLLPZkp

The final days before our departure felt like the horrors of Judgment Day. Many of our neighbors received evacuation warnings, followed by devastating shells. The smell of gunpowder and smoke still lingers in my nose to this day, and I continue to struggle with breathing from the intensity of what we endured. We were cut off from water and food; markets were closed; even street stalls became targets for bombs dropped by planes at night. We had no choice but to flee southward to escape certain death.

The journey of displacement was harsh in every detail. My elderly parents, burdened by chronic illness, could not endure the long road. We carried their worries in our hearts before carrying them in our arms. Our trip from the north to the south took nearly six hours under a blazing sun, along the Rashid Road, which the occupation designated as the evacuation route.

On the way, we witnessed a scene that will never be erased from memory: a tent on the beach shelled right before our eyes, with bodies scattered across the sand. We were only meters away, yet that distance was enough to rob us of sleep forever. Even now, whenever I close my eyes, that scene returns to wake me.

After the exhausting journey, we arrived at the Khan Yunis displacement camp. The place was unbearably overcrowded. Services were scarce, far too few for everyone. People were forced to go down to the sea under the scorching sun to collect salty water, which led to the spread of skin diseases among both adults and children. Watching people fill bottles from the sea felt like a scene from an apocalyptic novel. Everything here is difficult: sleeping, eating, getting medicine—even finding a small patch of shade to rest beneath has become a challenge.

https://www.palestinechronicle.com/when-i-slept-hungry-my-testimony-on-the-exhausting-hunger-in-gaza/embed/#?secret=uplV36BtBi#?secret=1GUEWWdOJK

Today, we live in a whirlwind of anxiety and fear. Every day, we watch the news of new residential towers collapsing in Gaza. We go to sleep wondering: will our home still be standing, or will it too become rubble? My parents need ongoing medical care and medications that we cannot find.

I feel powerless and frustrated at my inability to secure their medicine, and at our family’s helplessness in the face of this relentless tragedy.

And yet, despite all this, there is an inner voice that refuses to give in. It whispers to me that Gaza will endure, and that one day we will return to the north to rebuild, stone by stone, raising our homes again with our own hands. That voice tells me this land will remain free and proud, no matter how long the destruction lasts, and that all this pain is but a chapter in the story of resilience.

Gaza is bleeding today, but it will not break. The Gaza I bid farewell to—with hope of return—will always remain in my heart a symbol of dignity and pride, until every displaced person comes home, every child returns to school, and every family reunites with its memories.

(The Palestine Chronicle)

– Shaimaa Eid is a Gaza-based writer. She contributed this article to the Palestine Chronicle.

  • CrossFireArabia

    CrossFireArabia

    Dr. Marwan Asmar holds a PhD from Leeds University and is a freelance writer specializing on the Middle East. He has worked as a journalist since the early 1990s in Jordan and the Gulf countries, and been widely published, including at Albawaba, Gulf News, Al Ghad, World Press Review and others.

    Related Posts

    Wounders of Arabic

    EDITOR’S NOTE: I wrote this article “On Arabic” in 2008 and posted on hackwriters.com. I am reprinting it here for relvance and archival use

    Compared with English, Arabic is an easy read if it is written well. When you look at English, the perception of the language, written and oral, took centuries of development from archaic structures associated with the old English of Geoffrey Chaucer, passing to Shakespeare and Christopher Marlow to George Elliot, Charles Dickens, Virginia Wolfe as well as many others and not mentioning the new contemporaries.

    With Arabic it’s different. Although there may have been stages of development through out the centuries, it seems the clarity of the Arabic language was a one-time affair, represented in the Holy Koran brought down from the skies through Angel Gabriel to Prophet Mohammad in the 7th century and passed on to the Muslim community.

    The Koran represented a basis for the Arabic language as it is spoken and written today. Unlike English, back in the 7th century Arabic was written in a clear, transparent, effective tone that involved action, and designed from every member of the social community, rich and poor, educated and illiterate, a source of knowledge and speech and continued to be so as it passed down through the centuries.

    With English it was different. First if all, the language itself was derivative from other linguistic structures like Germanic, Latin, and French, many of which have said this is what made it stronger; Secondly English was helped by the issue of economic development as new inventions, processes and way of doing things required the development of new words, terminologies and syntax which evolved from the 17th century onwards.

    Today some have been known to criticize Arabic for failing to be innovative, or developing to meet the needs of modernization and even globalization, with its inability to produce new words and terminologies to pace with the development going on in the region and the world.

    However, one of the points that has to be clarified is that as these inventions came from the western countries and as communicated in English, the language proved more flexible in coming up with new words and terms, as opposed to the Arabic language that adopted a reactive approach with linguists from the region acting haphazardly in their word formations rather than following a methodical pattern.

    In the process as well, we tend to get used to hearing the words and terminologies in say the English language and when we hear their equivalents in other languages such as Arabic, as there is a sense of word creation even in translations, it becomes odd and foreign simply because our ears have got used to the English pronunciation.


    But this is a different view related to globalization, how much are we as Arabs integrated into the international system, how much we take from it, what do we take, what do we buy, our consumer habits and trends and indeed, how much do we produce and contribute to world society.

    While this in turn becomes related to our language, its use, how much we mix words, English-Arabic, Arabic-English, the fact of the matter is that the language itself, spoken by about 300 million people in 22 Arab countries and about a 1.5 billion in Muslim countries who read the Koran in Arabic, says a great deal.

    Arabic is a cogent force, its simple, attractive and gets the point across in as a logical manner as possible. It’s easy to read and to understand. It’s structure is less complex as say French and German which are grammatically more demanding than the English language.

    However, just like any other language, writing in Arabic has to be learnt, it’s a professional skill; that’s why today there is an endless beating about the bush were getting the idea across is deliberately pumped and inflated and there is much hankering because of political considerations relating to ruler, government, state, security apparatuses and so on.


    These considerations are over-riding and smack directly with the professionalism of writing and the way the writing of Arabic should be as passed on and continued through out the holy Koran which is sometimes used as a source of criticism by western writers and pedagogics who claim the Arabic language lacks the basis for producing new words as do the other languages.

    But when Arabic is spoken and written as part of the social community there is a sense of modernist continuum as expressed in its words, expressions, figures of speech and syntax found in the structure of the language.


    Nowhere is this more emphasized than it is in the Koran. Written in the 7th century, the Koran is timeless in its spiritual message, a modernist document in its approach with words, phrases and expressions that apply as much today as when it was handed down, memorized and collectively written.

    Words and expression apply as much then as they apply today. The word “car” for instance is used in one of its Suras (chapters) to signify a caravan route whereas its use today implies a vehicle, and striking the reader as if you are reading a modern document about social relations, economy, authority, and kinship.

    The style of language appears to be modernist as well and not with case as it is say with the Bible that is written in old English, not as old as the language used by Chaucer, but is hard to fathom just the same.

    That has proved problematic for the Koran. When translated into English translators often use the kind of language that is employed by the Bible, which does not reflect the actual modernist style of the Koran for the lucidness of the holy document becomes lost and replaced by an archaic and medieval structure once found in the language, although English has moved on tremendously.

    © Marwan Asmar May 2008

    Continue reading
    Dad Digs For Family After Israel Bombs Their House

    Hammad’s house in the Sabra neighborhood was destroyed Dec. 6, 2023, during heavy Israeli bombardment. He said a powerful bomb weighing around 2,000 pounds (907 kilograms) struck the building while the family was inside.

    On a mound of sand and shattered concrete that once formed the foundation of his six-story home in Gaza City, Mahmoud Hammad digs methodically through the debris, searching for the remains of his wife and children killed beneath the rubble.

    Armed with little more than a small shovel and a metal sieve, the 45-year-old father filters sand by hand, hoping to find bone fragments that would allow him to lay his family to rest.

    “In the absence of machinery, this is what we have,” he said, holding up the sieve.

    Home reduced to dust

    Hammad’s house in the Sabra neighborhood was destroyed Dec. 6, 2023, during heavy Israeli bombardment. He said a powerful bomb weighing around 2,000 pounds (907 kilograms) struck the building while the family was inside.

    He lost his wife, six children, his brother, his brother’s wife and their four children.

    Hammad survived but sustained severe injuries, including multiple rib fractures and injuries to his shoulder and pelvis. After months of partial recovery, he returned to the site to begin searching for his family’s remains.

    “I wanted to bury them properly,” he said.

    With the help of neighbors, he managed to retrieve and bury his brother and his brother’s family. But the bodies of his wife and children remain under layers of hardened debris.

    “I collect what I can, piece by piece,” he said.

    Missing under the rubble

    Nearly 9,500 Palestinians are missing beneath destroyed buildings across the territory, according to official estimates in Gaza.

    Officials said recovery efforts are severely hindered by the lack of heavy equipment needed to clear the debris. Despite a ceasefire that took effect in October, authorities said the entry of large-scale machinery remains restricted, limiting the ability of rescue teams to reach buried bodies.

    Civil defense crews have repeatedly warned that the longer debris remains uncleared, the harder it becomes to recover remains.

    Private grief amid mass destruction

    Hammad said his wife was pregnant and close to delivery when the strike occurred, as medical services across Gaza were collapsing under the strain of the war.

    “She and our unborn child died together,” he said.

    Since December, Gaza has been battered by repeated storms that further displaced families living in makeshift shelters after their homes were destroyed.

    For Hammad, however, the focus remains on the ruins before him.

    Each day, he returns to sift through dust and fragments of concrete, driven by what he describes as a simple duty.

    “They deserve to be buried with dignity,” he said.

    At least 591 Palestinians have been killed and more than 1,598 injured in Israeli attacks since a ceasefire deal took effect Oct. 10, according to Gaza’s Health Ministry.

    ​​​​​​​‏Israel’s war on Gaza, which began Oct. 8, 2023, and lasted two years, has killed more than 72,000 Palestinians and wounded over 171,000, most of them women and children, and destroyed about 90% of Gaza’s civilian infrastructure.

    By Tarek Chouiref in Istanbul for Anadolu

    Continue reading

    You Missed

    IRGC says Iran started its Operation True Promise 26 by launching missiles and drones against Israel

    IRGC says Iran started its Operation True Promise  26 by launching missiles and drones against Israel

    Iran Halts Attacks on Neighboring States Unless…

    Iran Halts Attacks on Neighboring States Unless…

    Iranian govt spokesman: 30% of victims are children; 165 of them killed among 1300 civilians who died by US/Israeli bombing

    Iranian govt spokesman: 30% of victims are children; 165 of them killed among 1300 civilians who died by US/Israeli bombing

    White House: ‘We destroyed more than 30 Iranian ships and are moving to destroying the navy completely’

    White House: ‘We destroyed more than 30 Iranian ships and are moving to destroying the navy completely’

    White House: ‘We Have 4 to 6 Weeks to End The Military Operations in Iran’

    White House: ‘We Have 4 to 6 Weeks to End The Military Operations in Iran’

    IRGC: Iran Has Not Closed The Hormuz Strait Except to Ships Linked to Israel/USA

    IRGC: Iran Has Not Closed The Hormuz Strait Except to Ships Linked to Israel/USA