Suffocated… #GazaUnderAttack

Last night was one of the longest on Gaza. I found myself mesmerized in front of the TV watching the depth of the quietness of a night invaded by continuous invasive bombing. The live streaming was as barren as me, aimlessly trying to locate the sources of the explosions that seemed pointlessly aimed towards anything in Gaza. In Gaza city center, on a tower, in a camp, East Gaza, West Gaza. The aggression was inclusive. The house of the mayor in Breij, the House of Haniyeh (the Previous PM) in Shate’. A friend of mine trying to get any news about her cousin and her children, uselessly explaining to her fellow American friends that her cousin is not a Hamas, just a Christian. In an attempt to grasp some sympathy from the senseless world around her. How hard it is for us to even realize that we are all targeted. It has never been about Hamas or Fateh or even communists. It is about being Palestinians. The targeting that is taking place only assures this. How many times can you justify the slaying of young children playing on a beach or in a park? How many times can you justify slaughter inside schools? Unless you know exactly what you are aiming for.
Some time ago, I worried about my child growing as a boy. I always thought it is a continuous concern, anxiety, and fear to rise up a boy that will turn into a young man who will be subjected to aggravation of any kind at any moment. But today there is not exclusiveness. If you are a young man or a young child. If you are woman or a girl. If you are a Palestinian you are a legitimate target for Israeli subjugation of all kinds.
I spent the night trying to assure my friend that her cousin should be safe. My stupid wisdom that means nothing at that instant, because being in Jerusalem watching a screen is no different than staying in the U.S watching something else. The only difference is that American TV will not broadcast Palestinian news. To realize by the morning that her cousin was just in the middle of the aggression. As I was trying to pull the knots towards where her cousin and her children where, I stopped to send her information, when she told me that her cousin lives next to a mosque called al – Amin. It was the name of the mosque they mentioned in the coverage minutes earlier.
It was another moment of sterility. What was I doing, bringing what could turn out into a bad news, yet to another family? Increase the state of apprehension instead of tranquility?
More names pop on the screen, families that I never heard about, families that I recognize, families that I know … it kept getting closer. Why do I have to ask? What should I do? What if I heard bad news? What can be done if anything requires any action? Any action of any kind. Any basic action.
Another acquaints pops up, he is in Rome, and his whole family is still in Gaza. What a life.
A friend who is not responding, Facebook movement says he is alive, but I heard three of his family name was among the slain.
I feel like walking on a ghost ground of graves only hanged in the skies. Something horrific enlivens me. I try to get it out in a word here or there. In Arabic or English, but I feel internally blocked. Something is blocking my heart and shadowing my mind. Something inside me is falling into despair. Submitting into dismay … but that narrow tunnel of hope is trying to stay alive.
It is too unjust …
And I have to remind myself, it has never been a just world… and apparently it is meant that we Palestinian have the share of eternal injustice…
If god was just there proving somehow his just creation …


  1. Although I have no family in Palestine, I understand what you are feeling. Every morning I pray first for the people of Gaza, that the bombing end now. Until it stops our hearts bleed tears. There is so much suffering and so much murder going on all over this world. And many of us are feeling just like you Nadia, that our petitions, and blogs, and posts, and calls to so-called “leaders” are falling on heartless and cold ears. But, I will not stop calling or praying. the bombing will stop and the wounded and torn will need comfort and strength.

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