What Life Is Actually Like in Gaza Today

It is insane, because, on the other hand, they are allowing chocolates and they are allowing sugar into Gaza, but they do not allow something like peanut butter, which is nutritious. The U.N. was hoping that it would be helpful because of all the malnutrition that the people are suffering from. So their claim that it’s a luxury is nonsense.

When you said that eighty-one per cent of Gaza is unlivable, what did you mean?

Yes, eighty-one per cent of infrastructure has been damaged or destroyed, according to U.N. statistics. One related issue we have is a very, very severe problem with sewage. There is no single sewage network that is still working. The only places it is working partially are places where everything was not destroyed.

What are the areas in Gaza that Israel has taken over since the ceasefire was put in place?

This has different layers. First of all, if we look at the map, it has the initial lines of the ceasefire, called the “Yellow Line” and demarcated by yellow cement blocks, which established that fifty-three per cent of Gaza would be under Israeli control and forty-seven per cent would be under Hamas control. After the ceasefire, Israel started to move to the west, and they started to move the yellow cement blocks. This created agricultural problems because the areas that Israel took control of after the ceasefire were the food basket of the Gaza Strip. And now the agricultural production level is, like, three per cent to five per cent of the level that it was before. So in some areas, Gaza was once self-sufficient, in terms of producing olive oil, olives, zucchini, eggplants, cucumbers, and peppers, and of course tomatoes. And at some points in recent years they were exporting tomatoes to Israel. So all of this is gone, and Gazans are not able to produce any kind of food for themselves. So they have to import it, and then that has to be under Israeli control.

I’m sure you’re still in touch with people in Gaza. What is the tone of those conversations now, and how do they differ from how they were during the war and how they were earlier on in the ceasefire?

Do you know what happened with me, or not?

I know that your wife and two of your kids were killed early on in the war.

Yeah. And later on, in July, 2src25, my mother and my sister and her children were also killed. And when they were seeking refuge at my uncle’s house, he was killed, too, with his wife.

I’m sorry to hear that.

Thank you. So I’m still in contact with people. My brother was in prison for twenty months. He was a doctor in a hospital. He also lost his son. He was taken from Nasser Hospital when the Israeli troops stormed the hospital in February, 2src24, and he was released on the day of the ceasefire. But of course I still have family. I still have friends. The tone is completely desperate, to be honest. I mean, the waiting without anything moving is making people angry, and they cannot respond positively. I mean, they cannot engage in a normal conversation. I understand this. I totally understand this.

I will give you an example of this. In July, 2src25, two days or two nights before my mother was killed, I called her. My mother was seventy-five years old. She had a car accident years ago, and she was suffering from bad legs and her right arm was totally paralyzed, and I told her that the Israeli tanks were around her area and she needed to move. She said, “No, I’m not moving. Whatever happens, happens. I will not move this time.” My mother was displaced six times with this health condition, and, eventually, she was desperate. She was saying, “No, not anymore.” And she chose to die, apparently. This kind of atmosphere is prevailing in Gaza, and everyone that I’m talking to in Gaza is wishing to get out of Gaza. Everyone—literally everyone. And people are paying a lot of money to get access to bad medical reports so they can be evacuated medically or be accepted for a scholarship or something. I mean, three years. It’s been three years right now with life totally on hold.

When your mother said that to you, what did you say to her, if you don’t mind me asking?

I was speechless, and I did not argue with her because, two weeks before that call, I think it was the second Eid of Muslims, and I knew, even though she did not tell me, that she had spent that night in the street, because they were forced to leave the area she was in at night. And I could not argue. I mean, I was not in her shoes. I left Gaza after two months. I was not displaced. I did not experience any kind of starvation. But my mother had. My mother had been displaced and had been starved, and I cannot blame anyone in these conditions, whatever their decision is. Yeah.

Why was your brother in prison?

He was just taken from the hospital, and he was tried four times before a military judge, and every time he was told that they didn’t have anything on him. But they also said, “You will not be released before the ceasefire.” And this message was given to many other medical staff, actually, because they wanted to deliberately deprive the medical institutions of staff. [While Israel has denied intentionally attacking Gaza’s health-care system, human-rights organizations and the United Nations have found that Gaza’s health system has been targeted.] He was taken because he was a doctor. And they kept him in prison without any charges.

And you can look at Hussam Abu Safiya’s case. He is another doctor who has been held without charges.

I just have one more question for you, and if it’s too personal, please—

Sure.

You have obviously been through just horrific tragedy, and you’re also someone who works on this subject. You think about this subject most of the day, I imagine, and not just the interpersonal dynamics but the geopolitics and the larger questions involved. And I’m just curious what that’s been like for you to continue writing and doing work on this subject while at the same time going through such awful horror. Is it therapeutic? Is it helpful?

First of all, it is therapeutic, and I appreciate everyone who has encouraged me to write. And the first one was my wife, Heba, many long years ago. She said, “You can be a good writer.” I did not believe her because she was a poet and she was a novelist, and, when I compared myself to her, it was a vast difference. But, I mean, she’s the one who encouraged me a long time ago to write. This is one. Second, I try to write things that seek a solution. I’m working with the Middle East Institute. I’m also working with the International Peace Institute, and we are trying to promote some solutions. We are also working with the group A Land for All, which is made up of Israelis and Palestinians. We also work with the group Standing Together. And I also do speaking engagements with an Israeli co-host. We have a podcast as well. So we are promoting something that we hope lasts. We want this to end. The people want it to end and to stop burying their children.