This story was written by Issam Hani Hajjaj and originally published in Arabic by UntoldMag. It was translated into English by Walid El Houri and published on Global Voices with permission.
( Globalvoices.org ) – The reality in Gaza is more challenging than one might imagine. Two weeks ago, I drank what was supposed to be potable water. My stomach still aches from time to time, even today. The water is as potable as Gaza is livable.
A week after we were displaced from the European Hospital in Gaza to the Al-Mawasi humanitarian area — an area the Israeli army touts to the world — I was awakened by the sound of a child screaming, “America is nuking Palestine!”
Although it is the Israeli occupation forces that are striking Palestine, with support from the United States, I wondered how such thoughts formed in this child’s mind. How did he come to articulate a sentence like that?
Al-Mawasi is a large area in Khan Yunis and Rafah that the Israeli occupation forces have designated as a zone for displaced citizens before they enter any governorate. The tents here are crowded together, some bearing the names of donor countries. The tents differ in shape and fabric, with some made of leather and others of different materials. The most prominent tents are from the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Germany due to their size, followed by Pakistani tents known for their distinct geometric shape and fabric.
People here live in a constant state of displacement, forced to move whenever the army decides to enter a new area, each time leaving behind a trail of innocent lives.
In reality, the Mawasi area has become the most dangerous place in the Gaza Strip due to repeated bombings by the Israeli army. Countless people have been killed in an instant, for no reason other than that the army can do so.
The displacement journey begins the moment the army announces the evacuation of a place. People scramble to find vehicles to transport themselves and their belongings, and the suffering of the displaced begins with the war profiteers who demand exorbitant prices for transport. No one has a choice but to pay because survival is the priority.
You dismantle your tent, gather everything you can, and move to a new location where you can set up the tent again. Once there, you start preparing a bathroom. Water is the most important resource, so people seek locations near water sources.
After we found a place to set up our tent in the Mawasi area, specifically in Asdaa City, we bought a tent and set it up with the seller’s help. The next day, we dug a circular hole two meters deep to drain the bathroom. We bought a cement base for the bathroom, extended a plastic pipe to the hole, and thus completed the construction of the ground bathroom, known as the “Arab bathroom.” It’s a small, enclosed space, measuring 1.5 meters (4.9 feet) by 1.5 meters, surrounded by cloth or tarpaulins.
Some people can build a Western-style bathroom, especially in camps supported by certain parties. However, the Arab bathroom is more suitable for displacement, as it uses less water and is healthier for the body’s posture. However, this type of bathroom is difficult for someone like my father, who has injuries to his hand and foot, which should be treated in a hospital.
My father suffers from double fractures in his left hand and right foot, both of which now contain internal plates. He has also lost his left eye, making life unbearable inside the tent under the harsh sun, which further aggravates his condition. He needs three immediate surgeries, but no one sees his suffering except us, and despite his critical condition, we have not been able to get him out of Gaza for treatment.
To create some privacy, you enclose yourself with tarpaulins, covering one side of the tent, and designate corners for the kitchen and laundry.
In Asdaa City, waste disposal is different from other areas in Gaza. People dig holes to bury their waste because garbage trucks cannot reach this place, and building a landfill is impossible here.
The tent is unbearably hot during the day and freezing cold at night. During the day, you feel like stripping off all your clothes, while at night, you shiver under your covers. The sun wakes you up in the morning, drenched in sweat, with flies buzzing around your face. Sand is everywhere — on your body, in your clothes, and even in your food.
Initially, the discomfort is overwhelming, but eventually, you adapt. In the area, there is a large well called “Al-Hawoz,” which supplies water to the entire region. People come from different areas to fill their tanks, transporting them by donkey carts and makeshift carts, or carrying the water by hand over long distances.
As for potable water, sometimes a free truck arrives, and people rush to it, fighting to get water. This is the only chance to get somewhat drinkable water without paying USD 1 for 10 liters (2.6 gallons). In this intense heat and with the pressing need for water, such a small amount is insufficient.
Many people cannot meet their daily needs and survive on whatever little is available. This situation forces people to drink regular water, which often leads to colic and diarrhea. With a lack of proper care, their situation is heartbreaking.
Read more: Israel’s war on Gaza
For a family like mine, consisting of eight people, we need about USD 550 per month just for food because of the high prices. Other necessities, such as charging phones, using the internet, and countless other things, come at an additional cost. Life forces you to prioritize what is most important for you and your family according to your income, but you won’t always succeed.
Many people have lost their jobs and have turned to selling goods. Trading has become the most common profession because everything else has ceased — except for the trade of goods, and war profiteering. As dire as life in Gaza looks on screen, the reality is far more difficult than one can imagine.
Two weeks ago, I drank some water, and my stomach still hurts. The water was supposed to be potable just as Gaza is supposed to be liveable.