Since the last windstorm that hit Gaza, which took place six weeks ago, I’ve been sleeping along with my wife in the living room – the plastic sheeting covering our bedroom’s windows was removed by the winds. This life created continuous tension inside my home, with non-stop calls by my wife (Arwa) to get the windows repaired by any means regardless of the fact that we have no glass in Gaza because of the blockade.
This (indoor) pressure comes in line with the daily (outdoor) scenes that I witness during my field work as a Documentation and Communication Officer for Save the Children in Gaza. As part of the job I have just seen a young woman hanging the washed clothes for drying on a rope that was set between two tents in a camp for Palestinians who lost their homes during the recent Israeli offensive. I thought I was having problems for not having windows, while those people do not have HOMES. I just realized that word ‘home’ doesn’t mean an apartment or a back yard, it means much more.
The end of the day was supposed to be in one of the kindergartens benefiting from the Emergency Response of Save the Children in Gaza. I visited this kindergarten before to conduct case studies, and it was a great surprise for me and a gift at the same time to be received by the 5-year-old girl, Jenin, who said Hi Osamaaaa. I didn’t believe that she still remembered my name until I asked her to repeat it again, and she did smiling!!
At that moment I forgot all the hurting scenes I’m facing on a daily basis, and just got the belief again of the need to continue what I’m doing with Gazan children, because being remembered by a 5-year-old child is an indescribable feeling.