Your home is not just a building. It is a space carefully crafted by your family — a place that witnessed your first steps, heard your whispers, and held your laughter and tears. It is the place where your childhood lives.
Every room tells a tale. A nook holds old toys. There’s a window where the morning sun kissed your face, and the threshold you crossed thousands of times.
Imagine a peaceful neighborhood around your home — a narrow, quiet street shaded by olive trees whose branches stretch to cover the sidewalks. You have neighbors who are like family, exchanging greetings and stories. Children play and laugh in the alleys. Every evening, the scent of taboon bread fills the air, and the call to prayer echoes gently, giving the neighborhood a feeling of peace and timelessness.
This home, in the heart of this neighborhood, is more than just a shelter — it is a part of you.
Now imagine that in a single moment, it all turns to dust.
A Home in Nuseirat
Aya Adnan Ibrahim Al-Derawi is a 20-year-old medical laboratory student at the Islamic University of Gaza. Aya is my dear friend, and she shared with me this story of her family’s home.
Their house in Nuseirat had a small courtyard with a lemon tree, a rooftop where laundry swayed in the wind, and windows that caught the first light of morning. But on December 12, 2023, an Israeli airstrike reduced it to rubble and ashes………………………………………………………………….
A Home in Khan Younis
Islam Abu Mohsen, a 24-year-old civil engineering student from Khan Younis in southern Gaza, told me about his life before everything changed. He works as a digital content creator and is a professional trainer in barista skills — a young man trying to build a future amid the ruins.
He described his home in one of the most upscale neighborhoods in Khan Younis — a modern, beautifully designed house, with large windows that filled every room with sunlight. “The area was very lively,” he told me, “close to malls, restaurants, and schools. It was safe — relatively safe — and we lived surrounded by a warm family atmosphere, despite all the harsh conditions in Gaza.”
Islam shared how everyday life inside that home was stable and peaceful. “Each of us had our own daily routine. I was focused on my engineering studies, working on digital content, and training others in barista arts. Every day, we gathered around the dinner table — laughing, sharing stories, trying to hold on to a sense of normalcy. The house had a soul; it was a place of safety, comfort, and beautiful memories.”
Then came the devastating night of October 14, 2023. Islam described it vividly: “At 7:00 pm, suddenly the whole area was engulfed in a ring of fire. The smoke was suffocating; we literally felt like we were choking. We couldn’t understand what was happening. Ambulances couldn’t reach us — it was as if our neighborhood had vanished from the map.”
He described his family’s final moments in the house. “We were sitting at the dining table, cooking pasta, ready to eat — and then the bombing started. We never finished our meal,” he told me. “The pasta tray remained untouched for more than five months. When we finally returned, it was rotten.”
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