Surviving Warfare in Gaza, One Textual content 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 making an attempt to achieve Mother. You already know, I come from a comparatively small household. Father. Mom. Muhammad. Reema. Reham. Mahmoud. Rula. Ruwaa. Shaimaa. My childhood reminiscences. I odor the meals that my aunts and neighbors had been cooking. And when the summer season comes and the breeze of the seashore. However now? Daily since Oct. 7, my physique is right here, however my coronary heart is related to every one in every of my household. Thus far they’re alive, however they don’t seem to be 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. Every time 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 making an attempt and praying. Making an attempt and pray.”