Surviving War in Gaza, One Text Message at a Time

“Free, free, free Palestine!” “Stop-fire now!” “Each morning, I write on the group, ‘Please, are you all OK?’ That is the fourth day I’m attempting to achieve Mother. You recognize, I come from a comparatively small household. Father. Mom. Muhammad. Reema. Reham. Mahmoud. Rula. Ruwaa. Shaimaa. My childhood recollections. I odor the meals that my aunts and neighbors had been cooking. And when the summer season comes and the breeze of the seaside. However now? On daily basis since Oct. 7, my physique is right here, however my coronary heart is linked to every one in all my household. Thus far they’re alive, however they aren’t OK. Shushu is the youngest lady, and I’m the youngest boy. I sort of helped elevating her. We’d all the time play collectively, and we had been sort of the spoiled within the household. So Shushu and I and my mom had been all the time inseparable. There’s not a single protected place in Gaza. At any time when I learn that they bomb a home in Nuseirat or bomb a home in Maghazi or in Zawayda or Deir al Balah or Rafah, I instantly suppose, Is it my sister’s home? Is it my mother and father’ home? I by no means thought that this chat group is a very powerful factor in my life. It breaks the information if my household is alive or not. I preserve attempting and praying. Making an attempt and pray.”