We are not allowed to flush the toilet every time.

He spent over two years trying to establish his company finally he started, and was contacting everyone he knows to promote his work. When he couldn’t find a job, he decided not to give up and started his own company, using his technical and programming skills. If we make it out alive, what will we go back to?” “My parents lost their house, I lost my apartment, I lost my company. I see an old neighbour who is looking for food. So they brought an office chair with wheels and he slowly pushed his mother for hours. I hear about a man whose mother couldn’t walk far they did their best to find a wheelchair for her but couldn’t. Every day I hear one horrible story after another. Noon Thousands of families are still fleeing towards our area. Photograph: Ismael Mohamad/UPI/Shutterstock As time goes on, bread is in ever shorter supply. Even in the positive moments, there is feeling inside that we will not make it out alive.Ī girl carries bread, freshly baked over a wood stove at Rafah refugee camp in southern Gaza. I don’t remember a time when my heart was not aching. I hear a woman in the street saying that we will not die of fear but of sadness. One topic that always comes up in any discussion with friends is the terrible feeling of guilt – of having money while others don’t of having a roof over your head and some food while others don’t of being alive while others are dying. My savings are evaporating, but all I care about is surviving these days. Because I am blessed and have money, I can buy some. I notice that people take the biscuits, go to the cashier to pay, then return them – the biscuits are on sale at eight times the original price. I go to a shop … and find biscuits! I can’t believe it. The situation is getting worse by the second. Now, people are buying anything if they have the money. I will have to wait another half-hour.”Īt the beginning, almost nobody bought the Saj bread because it was too thin. “You see that guy over there? He threw a big bill at the boys and bought the whole thing. Suddenly, everyone comes running back to the line. My friend is there too, trying to reach one of the boys but failing.

A man holds the other boy by the collar and screams at him to give him the bread. One boy is covering his head with his hand.

Each man wants the boys to take his money and give him bread. Once the people in the line see them, they leave the queue and run towards them. They are holding a large amount of bread they brought from elsewhere – maybe their own home or someone made it for them – and they want to sell it. Two young boys appear, aged around nine and 10. “I have been standing here for over two hours,” he says. The streets are muddy but almost everyone is wearing slippers.ġ0am While buying some stuff, I meet a friend waiting in line to buy saj bread. Seeing torn clothes on people no longer surprises me. Most men are still in shorts, and all of them are wearing short-sleeved T-shirts. People try to find things that will help them survive.

I go out on to the street after being one of the few who had stayed inside. The mother, who fled wearing light prayer clothes, told her she had just a light blanket that she covers her stomach with to sleep at night.ĩam Finally, a shy sun appears. Two days ago, my sister was talking to her friend and her mother who evacuated to one of the schools. It started getting colder a while ago but not as strong as today. What are parents thinking of right now – are they hugging their children tight so they won’t feel the cold? How many people will be sick? How many will survive? My heart goes out to all those in schools, hospitals and the ones who have recently fled and haven’t found a roof to sit under yet.

Rainy dayz lyris