The destruction in northern Gaza is beyond imagination. On Sunday, I made the journey from my home in Deir al-Balah to Gaza City, my first time north after 15 months of Israel’s genocide. The three-hour, 16-kilometer walk was an arduous trek through debris and dust—that is all that is left. Every block looks like it has been hit with several powerful earthquakes.
The sheer scale of it affected me physically. No building was spared in the Israeli assault. I felt weighed down. My eyes stung from the dust in the air. At various junctures there were chainlink and razor wire fences around ramparts of sand where the Israeli military established checkpoints. I climbed over hills of rubble and took care to avoid what looked like an unexploded ordnance.
When I finally arrived in Gaza City, in the Sheikh Ejleen area near the coastal road, my hair and eyebrows had turned grey with dust. Before me, there were nothing but piles of broken concrete. People were sifting through the rubble, scavenging for anything they could find. The picturesque buildings and cafes along the coastline where I used to go are all gone—they have simply vanished. Al-Aqsa University, where I should have graduated from in 2024, lay in ruins. All that remained were some torn books and broken chairs. The buildings that were still standing were burned and partially destroyed, their foundations fragile. There were no lights anywhere. ….more
