Please consider an urgent appeal for support from We Are Not Numbers grassroots activists in Gaza, as the coronavirus crisis escalates in Gaza
Palestinian youth tell the human stories
behind the numbers in the news
The sky is full of many stars and an almost-full moon. The air is so humid I feel like I could cut it with a knife. I look at this mesmerizing view for a while, then a very small star, blinking and moving quickly, shoots by and disappears.
I wish it was a passenger airplane, not an Israeli plane, and I wish was one of the passengers.
I'm 34 and I've never been on a plane before. I wonder how it would feel to soar up in the sky. How would the world look from the window, far below me? I hope to be free of the Israeli blockade and to have this experience one day.
The power is off—again, as usual. It feels literally like it is about to boil inside my house; my family of seven (my husband and five children, ages 12 to 4) can hardly bear it even when we have electricity and the fan blows. We get just four hours of electricity a day due to the Israeli ban on fuel imports, which means we usually can’t turn on the fan. The entire house is like an oven. There is also not enough water, so we can't shower whenever we want to refresh ourselves.
So, we stay outside in the garden, nibbling sunflower seeds and chatting about the growing number of people testing positive for COVID-19 across Gaza.