It's Ruba from Gaza

Today is the 25th of February and another month has just flown by. Here in Gaza we don’t realize that time is passing us by as things here continue to be the same, and then suddenly we look at the date and get a shock. The clock is still ticking for me and I continue to fight for my right to leave as soon as possible. I’ve done everything I possibly can in order to leave and now I’m leaving it to God, or in the hands of destiny or whatever you want to call it. I’m doing this because I’ve done all the formal procedures and everything within my capacity that I could do. I don’t know what to expect now - there are always delays and we are just waiting. We could be told we can leave at any moment. Meanwhile things are still happening here in Gaza.  The other day I went to visit my sister who now lives in a kindergarten. While I was there I learned that the Israelis had taken her neighbour’s son. I was sitting with my sister and someone outside was calling her in a trembling voice, unable t

Today is the 19th of February. In addition to all the feelings of anger, depression, sadness, agony and worst of all feeling like I’ve had to get used to things I would normally never accept in my daily life, I now also feel the clock constantly ticking. The clock is ticking all the time. We are under pressure to do everything in a hurry in order leave Rafah as quickly as possible before it is attacked. I don’t even know what my reaction is going to be like when they attack because as I mentioned earlier I have a very heavy burden on my shoulders and I need to be prepared to carry it.  I have been putting a lot of effort into getting my car fixed, trying to get it filled up with gas before it’s too late, in case we need to escape. There is so much effort involved in trying to leave Gaza. Even trying to get an explanation of how one can leave is extremely difficult but from all the research we have done and from what I can tell there are three possible ways to do it. I’m not happy talki

A Gofund.me page has been set up to help Ruba and father move to a safer location,away from the daily dangers in Gaza.  Today is the 14th of February and I have been having a hard time here in Rafah. All the conversations here revolve around whether the Israelis are going to get into Rafah or not and if the peace talks and ongoing negotiations in Egypt will result in anything. I know the results of attacks on Rafah will be devastating and so many people are going to die. There is a sense of fear amongst everyone here that if the Israelis enter Rafah they are going to kill so many people, just like they did in Gaza City, in the North, in the Middle and in Khan Younis. Rafah is the only place that was left until recently where the military operations were relatively limited.  Everyone is concerned as things are escalating slowly. And that is a pattern that happened in other locations - they usually start with limited operations which get more and more intense until eventually they annou

Today is the 9th of February. Time is flying and yet it feels like I’ve been here for a very long time. In spite of the fact that we are surviving it doesn’t mean we are strong, it doesn’t mean we are ok, it doesn’t mean we are coping well. It just means that in order to remain alive we have to make do with what we have. We could never have survived this far without clinging on to the hope that things will end one day and that we are going to return back to our homes and that this time will pass and will become a memory like the many hard times the Palestinians have been through.  A lot of things have been happening with me, especially as I’ve been trying to leave for a while - it’s no secret anymore. In spite of all the love I carry for my home and my city I’m finding it very hard to stay. People are really suffering and we are hearing their stories every day. I just heard a friend of ours in Rafah was taken out of the rubble alive, so that was good news. I still have to cope with a v

Today is the 3rd of February which marks my late mother’s birthday. She passed away in 2011 at the age of 59. Usually I feel a lot of emotions for the loss of my mother at this time of year, but this time it’s different. I woke up knowing it’s my mother’s birthday and I felt nothing because the situation here is so intense that I sometimes find it difficult to even think of myself, where I was in life and where I want to be. This war has forced us to put our feelings into freeze mode and feel nothing because if you feel every single emotion it will destroy you.  I’ve never mentioned this even to my closest friends because I didn’t want them to think I was crazy, but I remember putting my mother’s coffin bands (which were used to secure her clothing before burying her) in a special place in my bedroom. I thought that when I die I’d use the same bands because they were used for my mother, so it gave me a feeling of safety knowing that something of hers was always around. In that journey