Things happen for a reason

Today is the 30th of January and one month of this year has already passed. One out of twelve. Sometimes I wonder if we are going to spend additional years counting down the days of this war. It’s not easy for me to tell the stories in this blog for two reasons: firstly reliving them is double the heartbreak, and secondly I recently made a decision to try and make the most of every moment and to try and be positive whatever the situation is. I did this for a couple of days but then the reality hit me, as if it was giving me a message that I shouldn’t go too far away from it. 

I had been praying that it wouldn't rain this winter, because of all the displaced people living in tents. But when I heard that it was going to rain, I decided that I was going to try and enjoy it, and so I went for a walk that morning - something that I had been doing for a long time before the war and I miss it. After a very nice walk in which I finally felt the cold breeze on a rainy day on my face, I decided to make use of the morning to try and help my sister to find an apartment to stay at. 

In a previous blog post I mentioned my visit to a hospital where I had accompanied a friend who wanted to take a shower there. At the hospital I had met a few people, including a man who lives there as he had kidney problems for over 27 years and according to him he’s the oldest patient in Palestine who has this problem and has survived it this long. While I was in the hospital he mentioned that he has an apartment in case I know anyone who needs it. Now that my sister needed one I decided to go see if it was still available. Since the hospital he’s staying at, Yousef Al-Najar Hopsital, is nearby, I decided to go there to ask him. 

On the road to the hospital there was a woman crying on the street and she was asking me for money to buy bread. Usually when I walk I don’t have a lot of money with me but this time I had a little bit so I gave it to her and continued on my way. I wasn’t sure if she really wanted to buy bread or not but I decided to give her the money anyway. On my way back from the hospital I found her eating bread. It turned out she really was starving and needed to eat something. She was so grateful and said a lot of nice prayers for me. That gave me a moment of happiness that morning. 

When I approached the hospital I decided to enter through the side door. The first thing I saw was stretchers with bodies lying on them. I didn’t know if they were dead or injured. I saw one at the gate of the side entrance with blood on it. I entered the side entrance to a small corridor - the smallest part of it was 1 meter and the biggest part was 5 meters - this normally wouldn’t be anything interesting to mention but what makes it different is that there are now tents filling that corridor where people are living.

As soon as I entered, the smell of blood was so strong that I felt like I was going to throw up but I knew I had to keep going. I saw two dead bodies right in front of me lying on the floor covered with a piece of cloth. Something in my mind told me to search for more dead people. Whenever I go to a public place I usually raise my head up high and do whatever I have to do as quickly as I can and then leave. But this time something told me that if I looked some more I would find more bodies, and I was right. Soon after I came across a third body and then something in my mind told me to search for more and I would find a fourth body. I walked into the building and through a side door and immediately to my left I saw another body lying there. 

It was hard and put a lot of pressure on me. I have seen loved ones dead but when you see complete strangers dead it’s different because there’s a whole mystery behind those dead bodies. When you see your loved ones you know their past, you know their stories, you’ve sat and interacted with them, you’ve hugged them and shared experiences together - I don't know how to explain it but they’re not just dead bodies, they’re people who have stories and a life. For me you still interact with them even though they are dead and even after they’ve been buried. With the dead bodies of people you don’t know there is a whole mystery behind what the story was behind them, who they were, what did they look like, what were their ambitions - it’s a complete mystery. And yet when you see them you feel an intense level of sympathy and caring for complete strangers that are now just things lying on the floor waiting to be buried. 

I entered the hospital and went to see the man I was looking for. He was sitting with two other people this time - a man and a woman. I asked him if his place was still available and he told me he’d check with his family and get back to me. Then he said to the woman sitting next to him, “You should speak to her, she’s a journalist.” For some reason he said I was a journalist and for some reason I didn’t correct this information. I never told him I was a journalist, he just made it up and I don't know why he said that about me and I decided to go along with it. So I said “OK what is the problem?” The woman said to me, “This is my husband and he’s doing dialysis. I have three children and two of them were killed during the war, and the third was arrested by the Israelis in Khan Younis and now he’s missing, so please try and find my son for me.” She was literally begging me and I realized that this moment had given her a glimpse of hope. I wanted her to remain hopeful and this is why I agreed to take the name of her son and her contact information. 

Life or the Universe or God or whatever you want to call it - I call it God - will sometimes give you moments which make you realize that everything is happening as it’s meant to happen…after I left the hospital God made me meet someone who was publishing the names of the missing people and so I gave him the name of that woman’s missing son and her contact information. I feel like I did something good for her that day. 

All the stories we hear on a daily basis are still terrible. Like one of the stories that I heard about one of our relatives’ extended family members. The woman was 7 months pregnant and she didn’t have water for 5 days. She started to have the contractions to give birth but then at that time she found some water and managed to drink it and eventually she managed to keep the pregnancy. I had previously mentioned my friend who was pregnant and was in Khan Younis campus and we lost contact - she sent me a message this morning saying that she’s currently in Rafah. If you remember, the last message I received from her was saying that the situation is very dangerous. Her latest message said she’s going to be displaced from the place where she is now to a tent in another place - look at how many times she became displaced! She’s 9 months pregnant and could deliver at any time - again I sent her a message asking her if she has all the necessary items needed for delivering the baby, like clothes and blankets etc. I haven’t received a message back from her. At least I know that she’s safe right now and I’ll keep waiting for her news. 

Another thing that also gave me hope lately is that a friend of mine told me that my blog was used in a conference in order to raise awareness about what’s happening in Gaza and it was attended by so many internationals. I felt so honored that my blog was used by someone at that level, especially as I’m pretty much under a communications blackout - the internet connection is not strong enough for me to visit any websites.