anonymous

Hi, I am a Palestinian intern dentist displaced to Egypt from Gaza.

We’ve endured treacherous conditions and unimaginable hardship for countless days. Every day we remained in Gaza, we faced the terrifying reality that we may not survive the next bombing. Our lives were threatened daily by random airstrikes.

On October 8th at 3:00 am, we received a call warning the people living in the tower next to our house: “Everyone inside the tower, evacuate within five minutes, the tower will be bombed.” Can you imagine the panic? Four strong airstrikes destroyed half of the tower. During the bombing, I was on the street. God saved me, Alhamdulillah.

We thought the bombing had finished, but five minutes later, four more harsh airstrikes hit the part of the tower closest to us. I fell to the ground and recited, “أشهد ان لا اله الا الله و اشهد ان محمداً رسول الله” (“I bear witness that there is no deity but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah”). Fragments and rocks fell beside me, but Alhamdulillah, God saved me, and I reassured my family that they were fine.

On October 13th, we were ordered to evacuate, leaving us no choice but to go to the south of Gaza. Once we arrived at the apartment where we were displaced, we found that we were six families or more, about 50 people. Can you imagine that? We stayed there for about ten days. On the tenth day, an airstrike bombed the house opposite us, and the house we were in was destroyed, so we had no other place to go.

We decided to go back to our house. Walking through the streets of northern Gaza was like walking through a ghost town—deserted and silent, except for the sounds of bombings. Once we entered our house and filled barrels of water, the bombing intensified, so we left and went to my grandfather’s home. When we arrived, we found no water, food, or electricity—the simplest necessities for living were missing.

We stayed there until November 1st, a tragic day for us. At 4:37 pm, two heavy airstrikes bombed our house, and I lost my cousin. Our home was completely destroyed and reduced to rubble.

On November 11th, at 2:00 am, the bombing intensified around our new location. Flames and burning houses surrounded us. It was one of the worst nights I had ever experienced. The house filled with smoke, making it hard to breathe, but Alhamdulillah, God’s mercy protected us. The sounds of tanks, gunfire, and bullets were everywhere. We couldn’t see anything around us.

We felt death approaching. I can’t forget the sounds of tanks bombing, and we didn’t know where they were. At exactly 7:00 in the morning, the bombing intensified, and death was close. The tanks arrived on our street, and we couldn’t escape without facing bullets, shells, and phosphorus bombs.

I saw death with my own eyes. I went to the third floor four times to transport aid and food we had stored to our car, running while shrapnel and bullets fell around me. Unfortunately, on the fourth trip, I lost my 10-year-old brother. I searched all floors and rooms but found no response. I went out into the street, with bombs falling and bullets being fired at me, desperately looking for him.

I cannot describe those moments. I saw death before my eyes, like the horrors of the Day of Resurrection—people fleeing, martyrs falling, body parts scattered, and tanks continuing to bomb. I kept calling my brother’s name loudly, but there was no response. I ran in the street consumed by fear and desperation. After an hour, I surrendered my affairs to God and escaped the heavy bombing.

While fleeing with my family, my car was full, and my aunt and her children were running beside us. In a treacherous second, a shell fell between us. My aunt was martyred immediately, my cousin’s leg was amputated, and her children were injured.

We didn’t realize the extent of this tragedy until we reached a safe place. The news struck us like a thunderbolt. Tears flowed, and sadness filled our hearts. Imagine being with someone a few minutes ago, and in one second, due to oppressive occupation, you lose them to a treacherous missile. We always say what pleases God Almighty: “إنا لله و إنا إليه راجعون” (“Indeed, to Allah we belong and to Allah we shall return”).

I found my brother three kilometers away from where we were displaced. I cannot describe the mix of sadness and joy I felt upon finding him after such intense fear of death. My heart was pounding, but Alhamdulillah, God’s care protected him.

We were forced to relocate to southern Gaza with only the clothes on our backs. Since the beginning of October, we have struggled without clean water, electricity, internet, and sufficient medical care. We’ve witnessed destruction and death many times, heard constant bomb explosions day and night, been exposed to white phosphorus, and lost everything we own.

We lost everything we had, besides the emotional and psychological toll from which we may never recover. We are psychologically suffering and exhausted by what the war has done to us. The war has not ended, and the killing and genocide is still ongoing.