“I cannot believe it has already been six months since the war started. It was the 17th of October when the bombs were dropped on our neighborhood.
We fled to another area and stayed in a school. Shortly after, the school we took shelter in was also bombed and we fled to Rafah, where we now live in a tent.
We thought we were safe here, but a few days ago we were told that we should evacuate soon. No one told us, though, where we can go! Nowhere seems safe. The living conditions are terrible.
We are living in the middle of the street; this is where we were able to set our tent up.
Everyone is suffering — physically and psychologically. It is hard for a human being to constantly live in fear, expecting the worst to happen at any moment.
The most difficult part for me is that I worry for my two children. I had to take them to the hospital a few times, because they are now always sick. They are so small, and I worry they will die of a virus if they don’t die from the bombs.
It has been really cold, and the only clothing I could take were a few items I grabbed when the bombs were falling around us. We don’t have any mattresses to sleep on, and the cold is creeping through the thin mats we are sleeping on.
I keep having to think of my small nephew and niece, who died a few weeks ago. I cannot believe I will never be able to see them again.
The war has changed everything, and nothing will ever be the same. We will never be the same. We have lost so much and fear has drilled a hole in our hearts. I wish for nothing more than this war to end and for us to go back to our homes, or whatever is left of them.
‘I heard my children’s screams when we were buried under the rubble. My biggest fear was that I lost them’