I am a father, journalist and displaced, and watch what is happening in Gaza

Since our house was destroyed in November 2023, the tent has become our safety. My family, which was once part of my own world, is now part of the stories that I transfer to the world.

Here, life is simple and tragic to the extent of congruence. Sleeping on solid ground, cooking on firewood, and strenuous pursuit of a loaf of bread is no longer options, but a lifestyle imposed by cruelty and war.

I see in the face of my eldest son, whichever, who has not completed his fourteenth year, a reflection of a war that stole his childhood and carried him a greater burden than his years. Ayad became an expert in water distribution paths, bargaining for a piece of bread, and carrying a gallon of heavy water. I am proud of boundaries with his courage, and at the same time a painful impotence because I could not protect him.

My wife is trying to create an oasis of hope for our other children. The bracelet and Saba continues to learn through intermittent internet and read the available books.

A sun draws on the dilapidated cartoon pieces, while the youngest of them, a four -year -old believer, is known in his childish memory except the sound of explosions. We stand helpless in front of his innocent questions. There are no schools, nor education, only desperate attempts to keep the torch of childhood alive inside them in front of a difficult psychological reality.

The United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) reports that more than 625,000 children in Gaza are deprived of education due to the destruction of schools and the lack of a safe environment, which threatens the future of a whole generation.

We wander between hospitals, streets and shelters. We carry our journalistic equipment not only to document events, but to be a voice for those whose voices are silent. We record with a child suffering from severe malnutrition, and we listen to the story of a man who lost everything, and we testify to the tears of a woman who was unable to provide food for her children.

The scene here is repeated daily: Thousands of people scramble to reach a flour truck. They run around the trucks, collecting the last flour grains from the ground. They have no value, as hope is a loaf of bread more expensive than life.

Each time, victims fall on the roads of relief convoys or distribution points of a military nature.

On July 29, the integrated classification of the stages of food security issued a warning in which he indicated that the worst scenario of famine is achieving in the Gaza Strip, amid the spread of hunger, malnutrition and diseases, collective displacement, and severe restrictions imposed on the arrival of humanitarian aid, and the collapse of basic services, including health care.

The monetary value of the local currency faded. Those who have money in their bank accounts pay commissions up to 50% to pull them, only to find themselves in front of almost empty markets, and what remains sold at fictional prices. Vegetables are scarce, and if available, the price of one kilogram may exceed $ 30. As for fruits and meat, they have become just a distant memory.

The World Food Program indicates that the diet is almost non -existent in the Gaza Strip, and that hundreds of thousands of children suffer from severe and worsening malnutrition in the absence of a balanced diet.

The health system is in a state of complete collapse, and the majority of medicines for those with chronic diseases are missing. I am unable to provide the medicine for my parents who suffer from diabetes and pressure, and there is no hope for surgery that saves the arm of my brother who was injured in one of the raids.

According to the reports of the World Health Organization, 85% of the Gaza Strip hospitals have become out of service, while most of the services of dialysis and chemotherapy stopped, threatening the lives of thousands of patients.

We document the efforts of the United Nations and its various organizations daily. I see employees sleeping in their cars to be closer to the crossings, and I see our colleagues crying as they listened to the stories of the displaced and their need. But the aid is not enough, the crossings are opened and closed suddenly, and some areas are deprived of supplies for days.

A crowd in the western regions of Gaza City, the tents are spread in every corner, on the sidewalks of the streets and between the rubble of destroyed houses, in difficult circumstances. The war, according to the United Nations Humanitarian Coordination Office, caused an internal displacement of more than 85% of the population of the Gaza Strip, most of whom live in an area not exceeding 12% of the total area of the sector.

Whoever lives here does not need long explanations to understand the meaning of war that has been going on for more than 21 months. It is sufficient to listen for minutes to realize: reconnaissance planes are on the heads without interruption, and the raids silence everything but fear.

At night, the darkness is absolute except from the flashes of the bombing. Fear is not seen, but it fills all the spaces between the tents, sneaking into our bodies. We sleep while we know that waking up is not guaranteed. We walk on the roads, we turn to every voice, as if we were waiting for the end in all the attention.

There is no time to surprise or sadness, only permanent tension, and anxiety has become part of the genes of the survivors here. This is the reality that the cameras do not pick up, but it is the daily truth that we are trying to explain to the world.

Sometimes, I feel that I am stuck between two identities: the journalist who documents the suffering, and the person who lives it. But perhaps here lies the strength of our press message from the Gaza Strip: to be a voice from the heart of the tragedy, and to convey to the world the truth of what is taking place from a perspective that is living daily.

Every day in Gaza is a new question:

Are we Sango?

Will our children come back from the journey to search for water?

Will the war end?

Will the crossings be opened to end the need of the population?

From here we will continue, because the stories that are not said to die, and because every child, woman and man in Gaza deserves to be heard.

I am a journalist.

I am a father.

I am displaced.

I am a witness to everything.

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*The security situation is transformed without mentioning the name of our correspondent in Gaza