A Gazan journalist, wife and mother told her story as displaced person, and the roles in which her experience over the past five months intersects, since the beginning of this war.
Working conditions in war are not short of extreme danger, and few and minimal logistics are available. As for the possibility of taking a rest during the day, it requires coordination that begins with obtaining a chair from her colleagues and placing it in front of the door of the work team tent. She sits and watch the road where children have become street vendors calling out to passers-by instead of raising their soft voices to repeat the lessons in the classroom.
She witnesses the departure of the ambulances and the arrival of the wounded and dead, and hears the screams of the bereaved, then she gets up from her chair, inspect her voice and gather her strength to convey what happened, in what is the most difficult mission. But despite the exhaustion, a feeling of pride never leaves her whenever she wears that blue shield, as she is a voice for these victims.In the war field, which was turned into a workplace, she meets her husband, who is also a fellow journalist. 150 days during which the husband and father lived away from us, as he moved to stay in journalists’ gatherings and perform his work.
She meets him between two tasks and we talk about the situation as interlocutors. From time to time, she invites him to lunch and we eat whatever they have in their small car on the street corner. He leaves, and she remains embracing Alia and Jamal’s panic during difficult nights and their fear under bombardment and fire.
