Voices from the rubble

6 min read KHOLOUD FAQAWI

The equation has become clearer than before.
We, the dead, outside the coffin sealed with barbed wire and tank cannons, and they, the living.
Those who fight with the hell of drones and the weight of debris, for a handful of oxygen, spitting blood and tears on everything, everything that has silently and mysteriously betrayed their right to life.

Everything, without exception.

KHOLOUD FAQAWI

Khan Yunis

Gaza, the small strip of land trapped between Israel and Egypt, is the scene of recurring tragic events. In the “Al-Aqsa Storm” war, which broke out on October 7, Gaza has suffered intense air attacks by the Israeli Army, directed against government buildings, media buildings and civilians, which have caused the death of thousands of its inhabitants and the destruction of entire families, as well as their monuments, hospitals and streets.

When you wake up in the morning after a deep night's sleep, remember those in Gaza who were caught between sudden death and the roar of indiscriminate bombing. Those who lost their families under the rubble, and those who could not even close their eyes to rest for at least an hour, fearing they would be the next victims.

Do you know one of the latest tricks in Gaza to identify the bodies of Gazans if they die from Israeli airstrikes? The bombs? Gazans now write their names on bodies so they can be identified before they are placed in mass graves.

There have been more than a hundred days of relentless and savage bombings against civilian neighborhoods. Entire areas have been devastated, but fighter jets continue to hunt down what remains of the old trees and stones. What is the truth? What is justice? So far, more than 25.000 people have died in Gaza; Their bodies remain under the rubble, and more than 60.000 have been injured, and yet the killing machine continues to claim the greatest number of Palestinian lives. When I don't see you in the human mirror, does that mean I'm dead, or do you just ignore my pain and move on?

You define the nightmare by the debris and dust that gathers in your chest and fills your exhausted lungs as you try to close your eyes for 5 minutes and suddenly open them to a world of total destruction. This deadly assault does not refer only to Gaza or the Palestinians, but simply includes all human models of justice, human rights and freedom.

Looking at the books in the library at home, the trembling of the shelves, their echoes reverberate in the screams of the victims in all tragedies. It is very difficult among so much cruelty to save the works of Orwell, Kafka, Shakespeare, or even Camus, or Nietzsche. The bombings attack everything, even the ideas of Western thinkers in books and the words of poets and writers.

Gaza's healthcare system has collapsed, and the few hospitals serving 2,3 million Palestinians have stopped functioning. The surgeries are performed to save the lives of the victims in the hallways and without anesthesia. Can you hear the cries of pain?

With electricity cuts, running water and insufficient medical supplies, Gaza continues to survive the invasion and the spread of atrocities with its ancient hidden spirit. Yesterday, 10 major bakeries in Gaza were attacked and destroyed, serving entire neighborhoods with their daily needs for bread, and human blood mixed with wheat grains, and thousands of families lost their potential opportunity to have their last meal, I mean the last. piece of bread.

Bread, (the last supper). The miracle of survival has nothing to do with any (divine intervention), but simply with Gaza trying to live an undefeated life with her resilient spirit. In recent days, Gaza appears to be training himself to breathe dusty air through the rubble, wear oxygen masks and even signal the silent world with a severed hand, in a unique attempt to create his own definition of survival.

This war is not limited to the increasing number of dead or destroyed homes, hospitals, bakeries, schools and universities, but its monstrous effects now extend to the pillars of culture, education and the essence of the philosophy of existence.

The brutal attacks on all forms of life in Gaza will leave very painful scars in the future, which will soon begin to reveal themselves in various forms of thought, art and writing.

The (international) media continues to wage its own war against Gaza in this new era of advanced communication technology. It is no longer a question of possible ignorance; it is simply about being next to the murderer and abandoning the values of neutrality and justice.

Did you enjoy your dinner afterwards? More than 8.500 people, including 3.500 children, in Gaza did not, because they simply died in recent days in airstrikes.

I keep asking my wounded self, when possible during the continuous bombardment, [the word “after” is not applicable, simply because this madness has not stopped for the last 24 days]: How will this bloodshed end?

Clearly they won't keep dropping their American-made bombs on our heads forever, right? Even if they do and decide to continue their airstrikes with all forms of smart and non-smart bombs until they get tired or bored, do they really think it will end at this point?

I think of all the family, friends and neighbors I have recently lost during this madness under the rubble of their homes. It was very hard not to attend any of their funerals (the word “funeral” is another one that cannot be used in this context), since thousands of Gaza residents died from the bombs that fell during the last three weeks, and the graves Commons have replaced funerals with quick burials in the midst of air raids.

The number of victims continues to increase, but it is painful to see that they have been reduced to mere numbers added to statistics and official lists. The victims we mourn every second in this time of madness are actually thousands of stories and torn lives. Each of their lives constitutes an endless mourning and a scream in my head.

This is how memories are recorded in our minds. Surviving the explosions is the result of pure luck. Living does not mean that you are smarter than others when it comes to finding a refuge, it simply means that the bomb missed you this time and may return soon to finish its deadly work. I said refuge? It must be one of the strange security jokes in turbulent Gaza.

In this great city of resistance, there are no places called sheltersIn fact, no place can provide the necessary protection against projectiles. In Gaza, all places are targets (legitimate) from Israeli fighter jets, schools, hospitals, houses, mosques, churches and even open areas such as parks and fields.