Testimonies from Mother and Child, Neighbor

In this article, there are testimonies from a Gazan child named Mariam, her mother, and their neighbor Bahaa Shahraa Rouf.

I communicate daily with Bahaa, who resides in a neighborhood in Deir Al Balah near the historical site of Al Khidr. I inquire about his well-being, the conditions he, his mother, his siblings and his neighbors are facing, and in response to my questions, he always says “Don’t worry; we’re fine.” On one occasion, he replied “I’m not contemplating dying in this war.”

Bahaa typically writes opinion articles in Palestinian and Arab media. We rarely speak on the phone, mainly exchanging lengthy messages to discuss our concerns, worries, and daily lives. At the beginning of this conflict, he sent me a message that said: “Tell me a joke or two during these tough times to make my heart leap with laughter amid the sounds of Israeli shelling in our city. I stick my head out of my window, inhaling bomb dust, only to return and tell a third joke.” Following this message, I asked him to record an account of his situation, along with Mariam and her mother, while they were at their home on that day. 

Mariam And Her Mother

Mariam, nine years old, left her home with her mother due to the intensity of the nearby shelling and the fear of it reaching them. Mariam’s mother says: “Yesterday (the first day) started as a normal day, and the area where I live was relatively safe. However, with the absence of the sun, everything changed. Before that, we heard sounds here and there, but with the sun gone, we lost sight of where the rockets were falling. As the shelling intensified, the electricity was cut off, and the internet stopped working, so I couldn’t access any details.” This is how Mariam’s mother experienced those moments, as her fear for herself and her daughter overcame everything. “From around 6 o’clock until dawn, missiles were falling around us. I wasn’t sure where exactly. My mother would call me from time to time to check on me and Mariam, providing me with limited information to prevent me from being too afraid,” she adds.

Many people left their homes, and some areas in Gaza appeared desolate, either because they were completely destroyed or due to the displacement of their residents. The United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) reported that there were “approximately 218,600 internally displaced people residing in 92 UNRWA schools in all Gaza areas.” This emptying of homes heightened the feeling of loneliness for Mariam’s mother, who said, “When people began leaving their homes, I saw some neighbors leaving with their mattresses, unsure of where to go. Nearly all areas were being shelled.” Faced with this situation, Mariam’s mother says, “When we hear the sounds of explosions and rockets, with no people around and the electricity cut off, it intensifies our feelings of isolation. Continuous shelling and the sounds of terror make the ground tremble beneath us. At that moment, I’d revert to the rule we’ve learned from previous wars: as long as you hear the rockets’ sounds, you are safe. I’m not sure if this rule is correct, but it brought comfort.”

This destruction we observe as outsiders was once buildings where we once saw residents roaming within and around, like the Palestine Tower that Israel bombed, obliterating its fourteen floors to a single destroyed layer. It had been used by various institutions and media teams and housed medical clinics and residential apartments.

After people began evacuating their neighborhood, Mariam’s mother’s primary concern was the well-being of her daughter Mariam, she explained: “My daughter slept; she fell asleep out of fear. With every new rocket, she’d grip my hand tightly.”

Mariam has dreams, just like any other child around the world: “I am in the fourth grade, and when I go back to school, I want to check on my friends in my class, as well as my teacher and the school principal. She taught us well, and she always demands that we study.”

On the second day of the war, Mariam wrote a short story, and her mother photographed it and sent it to Bahaa. In the story, Mariam expresses her fear when the door is shattered, forcing her and her mother to flee to her aunt’s house. She wishes for the war to end. Mariam writes, “I felt extreme fear when the door broke, and my mother and I went to my aunt’s house. I saw broken glass all over the place, and my mother and I ran out into the street, leaving our bird in the house. I hope the war will end. My name is Mariam, and I’m nine years old. I miss my life at school.”

Bahaa

Bahaa conducted the interview with Mariam and her mother over the phone and sent me the recording. I transcribed and crafted it as presented above. I asked Bahaa to respond to the same questions he posed to Mariam and her mother and to talk about this war from the perspective of someone living in Gaza. Bahaa stated: “I’m a person with somewhat muted feelings, primarily due to my ongoing battle with depression, for which I am receiving treatment. However, my predominant feeling right now is pride. As a people, we have seized the initiative, and the truth is on our side. Today, we are taking real action, not just reacting. I don’t feel sadness; rather, I feel anger at what I see.”

For Bahaa, this anger is meaningful, as it is for anyone following the ongoing aggression, watching the extent of killing and destruction by the Occupation. The Israeli army declared last Thursday that it had “bombed Gaza with 4,000 tons of explosives since the start of the aggression.”

Bahaa believes that people in Gaza are somewhat resilient despite everything. He states, “There is fear, concern for life, and anxiety about what is to come, but emotions are intense. We have a strong sense of pride. I am not surprised by these emotions in my people and myself. I am comforted by this steadfast spirit within our people. It is clear that we will continue to resist, and resistance is not just about weapons; it is also about resilience and the concepts we have formed through many experiences of wars and assaults on us in Gaza.”

Along with a group of friends, Bahaa actively participates in assisting various places in Gaza. He explains, “I feel that I have a national duty to fulfill and a national struggle to follow through for the people. I imagine this is the natural role I must play very passionately.”

He concludes his recording by saying, “I will not accept being a ‘breaking news’ item on the screens. I am a life which has a story which also has a life. Meanwhile the Occupation wants to turn us into urgent news, and I refuse. So, I have a revolutionary role to perform, and that’s what matters, and that’s what I will do.”