Winter in Gaza is unlike any other. Here, it arrives burdened with the pain of the ongoing Israeli genocide, leaving its mark on every corner and every face.
War is not just the destruction we hear about or the bombs we fear; its effects are found in the small details that turn even the simplest rights into distant dreams. The cold wraps itself around us as if it were part of the suffering, adding weight to an already heavy load.
I live alone in a small tent in al-Mawasi, southern Gaza. It was set up after we lost our home in an airstrike.
The tent barely shields me from the wind and rain, yet it has become my entire world. Inside, I have a small sack of flour, which I consider my greatest treasure amid all this hardship.
That flour is my lifeline; I use it to make loaves of bread that barely sustain me, but it’s what keeps me going in this harsh reality. …..more
