I am a Palestinian mother with a bachelor’s degree in physics and a master’s degree, and I am currently a doctoral student. I work as a lecturer at Gaza’s University College of Science and Technology.
I married my first husband when I was 22 years old. We had two children: our son, Shihab, who is now 19, and our daughter, Maryam, who is 17. Tragically, in 2007, my husband was killed in a painful accident that I witnessed. I suffered a psychological breakdown and, after several years, married again, to my first husband’s brother. I became his second wife; he already had a wife and three children: Asmaa, 16, Ali, 13, and Muhammad, 12. Together, we had four children: Zeina, now 12, Yassin, 11, Naseeba, eight, and Zain al-Din, two.
Later, his first wife separated from him, and I raised all of our children as one family.
My second husband, Kamel al-Ghalban, held a master’s degree in business administration and worked as a police officer specialising in drug enforcement. We lived together as a blended family with his three children, my two children, and our four children.
We were the happiest family I could imagine.
Shihab graduated from high school with excellent grades. Maryam was preparing for her Tawjihi exams (taken at the end of secondary school) this year, but the war disrupted everything, and she now studies online, trying to challenge the circumstances.
On the first day of the war, we were woken by sounds we thought were thunder, only to realise that war had begun. On 15 November last year, my family and I were forced to flee our home in Khan Younis and take refuge in a school in terrible, inhumane conditions. We briefly returned home, but the intensified shelling forced us to seek refuge at the school again. On 5 December, a shell struck, killing my husband, Kamel, and his son Ali instantly.
Muhammad suffered severe injuries to his back and foot, leading to the amputation of his leg. He was evacuated from Gaza and is now receiving treatment in Turkey.
After the withdrawal of the Israeli occupation forces in April, people began returning to Khan Younis. My children and I returned as well. My first husband’s house was still standing, but my second husband’s house was destroyed.
On 12 April, as we moved our belongings from the school to my first house, I tried to set up a tent on the rubble of our home with Shihab and Yassin. Yassin stood on the rubble and performed the call to prayer. Suddenly, a missile exploded nearby. The scene turned black with smoke. Searching for Yassin, I discovered him with both his legs gone, and a finger on his right hand was severed.
Due to a lack of transportation or ambulances, we couldn’t reach the hospital for an hour and a half. Upon arrival, doctors informed me his blood count was critically low, and he required eight units of blood and four units of plasma.
Yassin stayed in the European hospital for three months until the occupation forces ordered its evacuation. We moved to Nasser hospital, where the charity Médecins Sans Frontières began managing his care. I am deeply grateful to their team for their efforts to support Yassin’s health and psychological recovery.
On the day my husband and Ali were killed, I buried them under intense gunfire. I left Muhammad with his aunts in Nasser hospital and fled with the remaining children to Rafah, with no money, shelter, food or water. We stayed in a warehouse for a month before moving into a tent, enduring conditions similar to thousands of displaced Palestinians.
after newsletter promotion
Yassin had a YouTube channel where he shared his love for raising animals, planting, playing football and memorising the Qur’an. He dreamed of becoming a football player.
The Israeli authorities recently allowed Yassin to travel for treatment, but I was denied permission to accompany him under the pretext that I pose a security threat to Israel. I’m an academic, a mother and a doctoral student. How could I possibly threaten anyone’s security?
If the war ends before I die, I plan to leave Gaza permanently and seek asylum in any European country. I have endured indescribable hardships and no longer feel safe. These are the worst days of my life.
I desperately wish to find proper food to care for Yassin’s nutrition. He underwent surgery three days ago, and I can’t find protein-rich food to support his recovery.
-
Fadwa al-Masry was talking to Aseel Mousa by video link from Gaza
-
Donate to the Guardian’s charity appeal here
