Displacement Suffering in a Hungry Tent!

With exhausted looks and a tired body worn out by hunger, displacement, and the bombardment that destroyed Maha's home, she found herself wandering barefoot under the rocket fire from the north of Gaza to the south, only to return again to the north. Eventually, she settled in an old torn tent, its worn stakes driven into the ground after a long struggle to find a place to stay. She faced nothing but land that animals had refused to inhabit, but there was no other choice.

Heart-wrenching pain.

Maha's words did not just come from her lips, but from her aching heart and her eyes, which were exhausted by the scenes of the ongoing massacres while she was moving with her family in an attempt to survive.

Every step of her journey carried fear and hunger, and just a quick glance at those behind her in her displacement from the north to the city of Gaza revealed that those with her were mere fragments scattered on the streets of Beit Lahia roundabout.

At this moment, there is no room for tears or retreat; the steps are calculated, and there is no going back or even bidding farewell to the martyrs.

Displacement of the South

She walked with heavy steps alongside the remaining members of her family for long distances to the south, setting up a tent burdened with pains and stories that Maha used to narrate to her about displacement, hunger, the cold of winter, the heat of summer, fear, tales of loss, and the departure of martyrs without farewell.

She tried to plant something beside her tent in the hope that it would provide her with food, but before the flowers could bear fruit, she had to evacuate and displace once again, eventually ending up back in the north where Beit Lahiya was in a truce that did not last long.

In every displacement, she lost essential things for her living; she gathered them with difficulty due to their scarcity and high prices. But all of that pales in comparison to her return, even if it's to the rubble of her home. She set up the tent again and breathed in the scent of her neighborhood, even though the houses and many of her relatives and neighbors were absent.

Loaf of bread

She only caught her breath briefly, as the drums of war beat once again and the rockets returned more fiercely and aggressively. This forced her to run toward a new displacement in the city of Gaza, into a very old, torn tent that offered no relief from the summer heat. The tent added to her suffering, especially since the rabid dogs heightened her fear and the fear of her daughters, who clung to her tightly, especially at night.

Inside this tent, I heard the sound of Maha's empty stomach rumbling and the wishes of her daughters for a loaf of bread, as this loaf had become a dream that haunted them both awake and asleep!

Read the article in Arabic