A young woman laments her current living conditions and prays that she will die with her body intact and not dismembered.

Zinha Adahdouh

GAZA- When Israel’s latest war against Gaza began on October 7, we did not realize that it would lead to genocide.

When the Israeli army gave the order to leave our homes, we insisted that we would never do so. But on October 11, I packed my bag and took only the essentials, such as money and identification.

My little sister suffers from alopecia due to fear of the ongoing Israeli blockade, and we couldn’t even bring her medicine from home. I didn’t even have time to pack clothes, so I left with the things on my back. Later, my father bought me a pair of pants and a top from people selling things on the side of the road.

I set out on foot with my family – my mother and father, three brothers and four sisters – from our home in the Tel al Hawa neighborhood in the north of the Gaza Strip, not knowing that this would be the first of four expulsions and that our home would become a place we would no longer recognize.

(When we last returned home and the fighting took a break, we realized that the occupation had bombed and destroyed the entire area.)

We walked for an hour and a half until we reached al-Shifa Hospital. It was familiar to us because my younger siblings were born there and my father worked there as an orthopedic surgeon. I felt no pain on the way there and was only concerned about our survival.

When we arrived at al-Shifa Hospital, we had nothing with us, no blanket, no bedding. We just slept on the cold hospital floor, huddled in a small corner, surrounded by thousands of families, sharing a bathroom. Can you imagine?

Desire for privacy

At our house we had everything, everyone had their own room. Now we have been crammed together for 11 months and all I want is a moment of privacy.

We stayed in the hospital for more than a month. Since the war began, time has been uncertain; today feels like yesterday, like tomorrow.

When the hospital was stormed by Israeli forces in December, we were again forced to leave and became displaced.

Many people died at that time, but we managed to escape. We had to walk eight hours to reach the south. It was so hot that we seemed to melt.

But you know the treachery of the occupiers. The Israeli soldiers forced us to throw away everything we owned when we were stopped at a checkpoint on Salahaddin Road, be it money or water – they even forced us to throw away the water! They told us to raise our hands as if we were criminals. They laughed at us and took away some women, children and men, stripped many of them and forced them to move on.

Then they fired tank shells at everyone behind us, causing a massive massacre. This is where my family and I survived for the third time. My mother was not with us at this time; she had already gone south with my injured cousins ​​after an earlier attack after her sister was killed.

Looking for protection again

After our eight-hour journey, we miraculously arrived at the European Hospital in Khan Younis with what felt like broken feet. Luckily, I didn’t have a fracture, but my toenails had started to bleed and turn blue where the blood had collected. This continued for months until they fell off my toes.

My mother and my surviving cousins ​​met us here, where we slept in what I would describe as a small storage room – 12 people crammed into one storage room. We stayed there to protect ourselves from the bombings, but after a few days we were again ordered to evacuate.

Since we had nowhere to go, we slept outside. The next morning my father was able to buy a tent, but it cost $500. The tent was set up in Khan Younis so we didn’t have to walk for hours again, and that’s where we’re staying now. Here my siblings and my parents all sleep next to each other, without blankets, without anything.

All the tents are packed together, but at least we have our own toilet, although no shower. To be honest, it’s not great because it’s only covered with pieces of cloth, but at least it’s ours, which helps us avoid some diseases.

Body without soul

Before this war we had a comfortable life, a nice house. I loved spending time with my best friend Sarah, but she was killed in the war. We spent time at each other’s house, watching films and chatting. I also really enjoyed my dentistry studies at Al-Azhar University and I am very sad that this had to stop.

We had air conditioning in our house and now, whether it is summer or winter, the situation is extremely difficult. In these summer months, we sweat a lot in the morning and suffer from rashes due to the heat, and at night in winter the cold was biting.

The food here is unhealthy. We have been eating canned food for 11 months without any source of fresh protein. I have three younger brothers whose bodies have developed without any source of fresh protein or nutrition. I feel so sorry for them.

We have cans of beans, tuna, chickpeas and ground chicken.

For breakfast we eat canned beans and the like, and for lunch we mostly eat instant noodles or pasta. If we need to heat it up, we make a fire, but the price of wood is literally outrageous: five shekels ($1.35) for five pieces of wood. But we have no other choice.

We are just bodies without souls.

I’m tired of my exhausted body, I’m tired of cooking over the fire while the heat rises and intensifies the heat of summer. I’m tired and I’m 20 years old. I’m even tired of crying until it hurts.

I cook over the fire instead of my mother because I am the oldest girl and my mother suffers from sinusitis and rheumatoid arthritis. She had hoped to travel to Egypt for treatment before the war.

Deterioration of conditions

The water is contaminated due to the destruction of the infrastructure. The water we drink is mixed with sewage. It doesn’t taste bad, but we suffer from severe diarrhea because of it. But I know well how precious water is, because when we were besieged for days, we longed for something to drink for days.

We have been here for 11 months, without electricity, without a washing machine, without a refrigerator, without anything electrical. We wash our clothes by hand, with handmade products that make us itch. Eleven months of hand washing.

Now, in the summer months, it is hot as hell. I sleep on the floor, surrounded by biting insects and the barking of dogs all night long. I can’t sleep at night just because I’m scared.

I’m afraid of the quadcopter buzzing over my head and the insects surrounding me. I want a roof over my head again. And this heat is literally making me sweat and I feel like I’m melting.

As a girl, I suffer from hormonal fluctuations and I need urgent help. At one point I felt like I was dying of pain; I suffered severe cramps without any painkillers or treatment. Even the toilet offers no comfort! We are literally living our worst days.

I just wish that my family and I can live a dignified life. I just want to continue my education. I lost a year of school as a dental student. I just want to be like any other girl my age… that’s all I want.

But when I die, I don’t want to end up in a sack. I give everything except my death. I want a complete shroud, I want my arms, my heart, my head, my 20 fingers and my eyes.

I don’t mind being buried in a mass grave, but I want my name, my age, and a headstone that says I’m from here. I sincerely hope my grave is in a real cemetery – not on a street, not on a sidewalk, nothing else.

C. TRT World