“It is because of my team and my friends that I am standing here today. What I say will express my gratitude not only to them, but also to the Gazans I have been privileged to meet. Those who are familiar with Gaza will understand what I am trying to say. The Gaza that used to exist…before the unimaginable destruction, of which now only faint memories remain. Among the hazy memories of the first few months of this brutal war are emotional goodbye messages on the phone from friends who thought they would hardly survive the bombings until morning. After these desperate messages there was a sudden silence, which was heart-wrenching. Those words of Mona still shake me: “If we do not meet again, then remember me, remember my son.” In the struggle to survive, people not only lost touch with each other and their families but also with the outside world, who were searching for the latest information through social media and news. Mohammed’s daughter Sama was born on 31 October 2023 in Gaza. It happened in the city. At that time there was a shortage of ambulances due to the large number of casualties from the bombing. Amidst the attacks, he somehow took his wife to the hospital. Under the shadow of death his wife gave birth to a baby girl. A few weeks later, my colleague’s 4-year-old daughter, Salma, was killed by Israeli gunfire as she fled Gaza to seek safety. She died in his arms in the middle of the road. The pain is still visible on his face. ‘They are firing at us’ Earlier in the year, we lost contact with Hussein for a week while his family took refuge in a UN shelter. Was taken. At that time the place was surrounded with tanks and 40 thousand people were trapped inside. The last message received from Hussain was: “They are firing at us in the compound.” Ambulances and emergency teams were not allowed inside. When they were finally contacted again, they were found burying the bodies of those killed in the compound, including several children. Some of the most deeply impactful photographs of this war were taken by my colleague Abdallah. In February, Abdallah came under attack while taking photographs in northern Gaza. On Saturday afternoon we got the news that he had been killed in the attack. I remember very well that my breathing stopped after hearing this. But on Monday someone informed that Abdallah was admitted in a hospital – alive, but he had lost both his legs. After that once again we lost contact with him for 14 days. Despite the Israeli siege, doctors at Al-Shifa Hospital continued trying to keep him alive. It was a miracle that after 4 days the UN team finally succeeded in reaching them. And then April came. For the first time after the war started, I got permission to go to Gaza. I first went to the hospital in Rafah, where efforts were being made to somehow keep Abdallah alive. What was that hospital – just a tent pitched in the sand. The doctors informed us that due to the lack of necessary equipment or medicines for further treatment, he had only a few days left to live. To keep him alive, two of my colleagues immediately donated blood. Two long months after the attack, Abdallah was finally allowed out for treatment. This was just a few days before the permanent closure of Rafah checkpoint. Even today it is difficult to believe that he was able to survive in these circumstances. In May, everything started falling apart before our eyes. The joy of meeting Abdallah again and seeing him safe did not last long. Now the military operation had started again in Rafah. There was chaos, panic and terror all around. I was stunned to see that within a few days, more than one million people were forcibly displaced from a limited area. My acquaintance Jamal was one of the first people to flee Rafah. He followed the evacuation instructions in the leaflets dropped from the sky and brought his family to Deir al-Balah. But that same night, he was killed in an Israeli attack while he slept with his family. Is the world still paying attention? Mohammed is one of the last people I know to have left Rafah. An unexpressed fear was reflected in the seriousness of his face and he continued to ignore the situation around him for a long time. The essence of each of their expressions and conversations was the same – “If we go, where should we go?” Mohammed stayed until that day – the day when the decapitated torso of a child who had been burned to death by a fire caused by an Israeli attack was pulled out of a tent – a scene that made global headlines. He also said that all our eyes are on Rafah. No one outside would know, but this was the scene not only of that night but of every night. But these scenes, coming out of people’s nightmares, are often not highlighted in the media around the world. The screams of those children who were burning to death every night still echo in Mohammad’s mind. If you have read this far then you will understand why I am here in Gaza. You will understand why I have put my life on hold. Instead of spending time having fun with my friends, I am constantly trying to spread the word about the horrific events that remain a reality for Gazans today. To convey to the people the screams of those families who are pleading for our help, who are desperate for the release of their loved ones who have been held captive for months. Reports of corpses being left around checkpoints for dogs to eat, reports of children being hospitalized with missing limbs after attacks in ‘humanitarian zones’. Death of Mona’s brother, death of Hussain’s daughter, death of Raja’s cousin. Are you able to keep up with these news? Because we have become completely incapable of doing so. If you know that your family is safe, then consider yourself very lucky. Journalists on the ground are risking their lives every day to show the world the horrors that are devastating their friends, families and neighbors. Is the world still paying attention to this? Or people outside Gaza are tired of hearing stories of children being killed in various ways: death in attacks, death under debris, death from malnutrition, death in bombings of hospitals, death from incubators shutting down due to power outages. , or death simply because those children were alive, they existed. An entire society has now turned into a graveyard. But no one has enough time to mourn those who died, because they have to survive. Food, water, health care, security – how ironic is it that another year is coming to an end and people are yearning for even basic necessities? There are still 100 people being held hostage in Gaza, and their families are desperately waiting for news of their return or their safety. More than 20 lakh people are stranded. They can’t run away and go anywhere. There is no way out. As far as I am concerned, I can never forget the song we sang on Baby Sama’s birthday, when we all stood courageously on the ground shaking with bombs, with the courage to suppress the sounds of the explosions, with all our might. , the song was sung in a loud voice. Sama is now one year old. But that girl’s entire life may or may not be defined by the brutality of this war.”