As the war in Gaza escalates, residents are confronted with a grim reality that forces them to make impossible decisions. Fatima al-Zahra Sahweil is a 40-year-old resilient media researcher. During a harrowing 19 cases of displacement, she recently was forced to navigate this with her four children in tow. Today, Sahweil’s family lives displaced in the Nasser neighborhood of Gaza City, where the humanitarian situation has worsened beyond imagination.
The Israeli army has called on around one million people, including Sahweil and her family, to move south in search of safety. Past experiences haunt Sahweil. She had moved before to southern Gaza, only to discover that it provided no escape from bombardment. The aerial assault on Gaza City has exponentially increased in the last few weeks, with constant bombardment turning everyday life into a deadly endeavor.
The daily bombing that has terrorized the city — and gone unchallenged — for the past six days. But now, every 45 minutes to an hour, we hear strikes erupting just a few blocks away. Helicopters, fighter jets and at times artillery are behind the havoc. … said Yousef al-Mashharawi, a 32-year-old photographer and filmmaker who suffers the same fate.
Sahweil characterizes the humanitarian crisis inside the al-Shifa medical complex as “catastrophic.” The capacity of the hospital is inundated with virtue and severe traumatic injuries. It is an all too vivid reminder of the rising tide of violence in the area.
Her family now lives in a tent with no end in sight. They face down bugs, vermin, grit, sun, snow and storms. As they come to terms with what’s out there and dampen expectations in the short term, the living situation becomes more intolerable every day.
We are tentless, because I don’t have a personal tent to stay in. In addition, purchasing one is simply cost prohibitive. Sahweil explained. “I would not be able to take all of the belongings and supplies I have already bought several times before.”
For her, the idea of moving out of their wonky home makes her stomach turn. Sahweil knows all too well that if she has to move again, it will be out into the unknown. Then there is the pain we would endure in looking for water and the absence of open spaces to be able to dwell in. So if I did leave, it would just be jumping off into the abyss,” she said.
It includes the choking fear and everyone’s carefulness that fills their everyday existence. Sahweil writes of the chronic yearning for order that lies beneath the surface. “Human nature seeks stability, where you can lean against a solid wall and feel at home,” she stated. Her family’s home today—a tent made of cloth—provides them with no protection, no safety, nothing at all. “A piece of fabric is not a house: it does not give you safety, nor the feeling of a home,” she added.
The bombardments only continue to grow in intensity. Residents such as Sahweil and al-Mashharawi are stuck in a continuous loop of homelessness and hopelessness. Al-Mashharawi described the frightening nights filled with noise and fear: “The fighter jets and helicopters do not stop firing. Last night was terrifying.”
“I haven’t exactly ‘decided’ to stay, but the truth is, I have nowhere else to go,” he admitted, reflecting the sentiments shared by many in Gaza.