Rami Almeghari

On Tuesday, Gaza was plunged into complete isolation and darkness as the electricity was cut off. It was like being in the stone age; movement was paralyzed during the day and there was total blackout at night. When there is no power, there is also no water: most houses use electricity to pump water up to their roof tanks. Muhammad, six, and his little sister had to carry water bottles home because they had no household supply. EI’s correspondent in Gaza, Rami Almegari reports.

Surveillance cameras and watchtowers loom over more than 800 meters away from the scene of destruction left by Israeli army tanks and bulldozers following the latest Israeli invasion of the al-Faraheen area in Abbassan al-Kabeera town, to the east of Khan Younis in the southern Gaza Strip. “Fifteen dunums [four acres] of tomatoes along with 400 meters of irrigation pipes were crushed by the Israeli tanks during the invasion into our area, where myself and two other partners make our living,” says Samir al-Naqa, a local farmer in the al-Faraheen area. EI correspondent Rami Almeghari interviews some of those affected by Israel’s latest campaign of destruction.

Any patience we might have once had has dissipated during the past weeks we’ve been stranded here in Egypt — any patience that would have held us over as we have been badly missing our loved ones in Gaza, the patience we might have once had steadily running out along with our money. To learn about these seemingly forgotten Palestinians, EI correspondent Rami Almeghari, also stuck in Egypt, heard the accounts of some of the thousands of people trying to return to their homes and lives in Gaza.

My wife and myself, like thousands of other Palestinians, are currently stranded in Egypt since the Rafah crossing to Gaza was closed in mid-June. We are now staying closer to our home of Gaza. The destination this time is not Cairo. Rather, it’s the coastal town of al-Arish now that my wife has completed her medical treatment in the Egyptian capital. In the evening of 7 July, we cheerfully smiled for the first time since my wife was hospitalized in a Cairo hospital a month ago, after the doctor assured us she could leave the hospital. However, EI contributor Rami Almeghari and his wife have been unable to return home.

”You see, both Ahmad and I are staying in the same room at this hospital, where we are being treated for wounds we have sustained during infighting. I am a Hamas supporter, while he is with Fatah,” said Ibrahim, who was shot with several bullets in his body. Ahmad, the Fatah supporter and preventive security personnel of the al-Tuffah neighborhood in central Gaza City, said it all with his sad eyes. “What fault has my son committed to be in such a situation? May God take revenge on those who have beaten him,” said a bearded man, Ahmad’s father. EI contributor Rami Almeghari reports from Cairo.

In an isolated barley field, located just few hundred meters away from the Israel-Gaza border line in eastern Rafah city, a heap of barely lies in the middle of the field. The field is now abandoned — why? Not because there are no farmers in the area, but rather because the Loulahi family, who had been harvesting barely, were hit by Israeli missiles. Samah, the daughter, was killed, and Ahmad, the son, killed as well. The father Sulieman was wounded, while A’isha, 19, is being reated at the nearby European Hospital after sustaining shrapnel wounds to her leg.

My pen is bleeding, my hand is shaking, my heart is sighing and my mind is stuffed with the bitter experiences of the past 14 months. The latest is today’s anniversary of the Palestinian catastrophe (Nakba); today is a double Nakba. My ideas are scrambled; however, I must rein them all in and allow my words to flow, with the hope of reaching hearts, minds and souls. “I prefer death to these days; death is much better than these moments when a brother kills his brother”, said Yousef Almadhoun, also known as Abu Mohammad, a 77-year-old man from the northern Gaza Strip town of Beit Lahiya.

”Perhaps some youth are trying to imitate what’s going in the outside world; we don’t have solid information on the existence of such groups,” said Palestinian Interior Ministry spokesman Khaled Abu Helal in response to the recent attack on a UN-operated school in Rafah City. Early this week, a group of militants opened fire on a celebration at a UN-operated elementary school in the southern Gaza Strip city of Rafah, having warned ahead of time that the event was “indecent.”

Forty-eight-year-old Riyad Hammad from the Maghazi Refugee Camp in central Gaza woke up on Friday morning whilst his wife sat before a wood-burning stove. He headed for a nearby store, not to buy cookies, or anything else, but rather to bring some used papers and pieces of carton outside the store’s front door to his waiting wife. Since being cut off of work following the outbreak of the intifada in 2000 and the imposition of Israeli closures, Riyad has been collecting torn-apart carton packing material and used papers in order to save a few shekels due his inability to afford gas and electricity.

The building in which the American International School in Gaza is situated is no longer beautiful. The damage can be seen in many corners of the school — in the front door, in the director’s office, in the cafeteria or in the computer room. “We have become Iraq,” a dusty man said while bending down on the floor, trying to clear away the debris from an explosion that rocked the school early Saturday morning. The principal’s office only contains torn apart chairs and shelves, with black big spots on the walls; the cafeteria’s chairs are now black, while the computer room is no longer hi-tech.