"No Help Was In Sight"

Zak used to work in a mall close to Al Shati refugee camp before he and his family fled to escape Israeli attacks

- Zak

CARRYING my sick child on my back through the streets of Gaza, where bystanders are both snipers as well as a queue of thousands waiting for their turn to 'cross the line' - I walked, I ran, I stumbled and I stood up again. I didn't know where to look, where to get help from, whom to tell that she was vomiting and she needed immediate treatment. No help was in sight. Hundreds of eyes from behind the military helmets were looking at us.

We were confined. Trapped in our own land.

Our journey from north of Gaza to the southern part-up to Rafah-at the border of Egypt didn't start today or yesterday.

We have been in transit forever since our grandparents were thrown out of their houses during Nakba of 1948. They found their new shelter in a beach refugee camp-AI Shati. My parents also grew up there and gradually it became our home.

Since my childhood, I never got the taste of freedom. As people growing up under occupation, the only thing that we yearned for was freedom from oppression, exploitation and incessant attacks on our dignity and livelihood. It was impossible to lead a normal life here. We couldn't even plan the next day, let alone plan a life. Our destiny is controlled by the occupiers. Nonetheless, we survived. But things changed again after October 7.