Eman Abu Shawish Story 18

While we are in the twilight zone between life and death, I find myself recalling my memories and remembering my life.

Gaza… my pain and my beloved Gaza.

The world knows of her 5 wars and a few aggressions.

But we – her people – know that her wars are far more. You know her military wars, like a thirsty vampire attacking us collectively and one-by one to quench its thirst. Then it goes back to its nest, satiated with our remains, naps for a period of time called truce, which may be longer or shorter before the beast gets thirsty again and starts over…

But we have another war that is no less vicious, operating in darkness like bats, war of the siege…

We have been its game for sixteen plus years, but – unlike other wars – it is slow and has its unique taste; it slowly counts our flesh, turning the kill into an art; flavors with different spices; chews slowly, then wipes its mouth, takes off its gloves and walks away, so that anyone looking – if someone actually investigates – finds no trace or evidence to condemn…

Both wars are heavy with fear, worry, and helplessness, and make you ponder which of the two would end your life first…

As a mental health specialist, I was destined to work with tens of children whose ages range between 6 and 17 years. All of them born in the era of the siege…

I shall not talk to you about their pains, but rather about their dreams…

– I dream to have a Barbie doll or any other toy, doesn’t matter which.
– I dream to have windows for the house because it gets very cold.
– I dream to take an allowance to school.
– I wish I could ride a car to school because the path is very long and the school bag is heavy.
– I wish to go to a restaurant just one time.
– To have meat on Friday like others.
– That we bring fruits to the house.
– A big shawarma sandwich.
– To live in a house instead of the wooden shack.
– I dream to wear new boots, for all my life I’ve worn used boots that outgrew the feet of others.
– To buy new clothes for Eid.
– To have a TV or mobile phone.
– LED light for the night because we are scared when the electricity is out.

And this is only a drop in the sea…

Their dreams are all about eating, drinking, clothing, and shelter. In a time where children of the world steadily rise up Maslow’s pyramid, most of us are glued to its base. This is no surprise since most people in Gaza fall below the poverty line… significantly below it, ladies and gentlemen… like the families of the unemployed, those with limited income, and those living in debt… and far and few are those to whom life has smiled by letting them crawl above the poverty line to afford those basics. Some of them are public employees or employees of the UNRWA or any of the international organizations…

And there are families oscillating around that line, like families of daily laborers and workers on short-term contracts. Those climb above the line when they find a job, and flip back below it when their job ends… so even the slightest sense of security in income and basic livelihood is not present.

My kids once had such simple dreams, for we, too, had limited income as I struggled to find a job.

With patience and faith, and much persistence, ten years passed post graduation before I was able to find me a contract-based job.

As if dreams grow in direct positive correlation with income, for today my children have “luxurious” dreams now that their mother is working, albeit intermittently.

One of my girls dreams of owning a car, and another of riding a plane, at least once before she dies…

Talking of travel, we have no right to it, for the borders of land and sky are sealed with rusty locks… you can ask our crossings how many men, women, and children have passed waiting for permission to leave for medical treatment, not for tourism or fun…

As for the borders of the sea, thank God that they endowed upon us a few miles, from which some can find sustenance from fishing and some entertainment… that’s the only outlet for the poor, for its sand, air, and water are free. Did you feel some hope here? Hold on… for its water is polluted from sewage pushed upon us by the occupation through the Gaza Valley…

How generous life can be giving you all those options to die…

Whoever doesn’t die by shelling dies by hunger and thirst; or by the sickness from them; or by pollution of water, air, soil, and produce; or by the fire of a candle lit by a mother to ease fear of the dark in her children when the electricity is out, and the candle burning down the house and the children as they sleep; or by defeat and sorrow over helplessness in getting one’s kids some basic clothing they asked for; or by bitterness over an age slipping through your fingers and dreams buried while you stay in place, for your education doesn’t do you good, nor do your qualifications… and the list is long…

If you see us on screens rising from under the rubble thankful to God, or mourning our beloved with folk songs, or receiving the news of truce with a short-lived sense of joy, it is not because we hate life; it is just that we are used to death…

We die every day, in many ways, until we confused the definition of salvation; is it that you survive shelling and live, or die in martyrdom to be saved from such a life?

Eman Abu Shawish – Mental Health Practitioner at UPA, Gaza, Palestine
13 November 2023

To read all stories in the series: http://upaconnect.org/category/gaza2023