This is exactly our house. During the 49-day ceasefire, my brother Ahmed was able to go there and take a picture. Oh God, how sad we were… my brother Ahmed fell to the ground when he saw the scene.
I am Rahaf, from the city of Rafah, from Al-Jenina neighborhood. I used to live a beautiful life; I had a home, many dreams, and a room where I enjoyed my own moments. I used to sit on the balcony with a cup of tea, watching the rain and quietly reflecting on the sky.
There was electricity, there was life, and there was hope filling every detail of our days. I also had a university that I used to go to every morning, but I lost my studies amid everything that happened. Everything changed, and I began to miss every detail of our street, our home, and our old life.
Now I write with tears in my eyes, remembering unforgettable memories… how my brother and I used to go out at night and walk through the streets, talking about our dreams and our future, as if the whole world was ahead of us.
Now, our biggest dream has become to secure medical treatment for my parents. My father suffers from heart disease, mobility issues, and chronic illnesses. My mother also has hearing impairment, chronic conditions, and severe bone problems.
We also struggle to secure enough food. My greatest concern is simply being able to find something to eat, and I fear what tomorrow might bring because food is not always available. The constant worry is overwhelming and exhausting.
