The Electronic Intifada 25 June 2024
A Palestinian woman displaced to Egypt looks at a picture of her destroyed home in Gaza on 27 May.
DPAHere in Gaza, sorrow, pain, and separation converge in one place.
Will hope return someday? I don’t want to be pessimistic, but I fear things will never be normal again. Writing these words, recalling these events, pains my heart deeply.
Still. I want to convey the story of my close friend, Noor.
Noor is a very quiet and kind girl. She lives in Tal al-Hawa. She’s also my neighbor. When the situation intensified in northern Gaza, she and her family had to leave their home with whatever they could carry and go through what we all call the “corridor of death,” to go south.
They endured extremely difficult conditions on this journey, which she later recounted to me.
They walked long distances and didn’t take much with them because it was a long and arduous journey. They also witnessed many horrifying scenes, bodies flung at the sides of the road, burnt and exploded cars.
Noor had shared a video with me of a car crossing Salah al-Din Street, with a family trying to reach the south, only to be hit by a tank shell, killing the entire family. I remember we were both terrified by the sight. We couldn’t imagine at that moment that we would both, eventually, pass through that same street beside the same burnt-out car.
Noor and her family eventually reached a small house in the south in the Nuseirat area. Electricity has been cut off from Gaza since the beginning of the aggression, and the only way to charge phones is to go to someone who owns a solar panel and charges phones for a fee.
Deadly charge
Noor’s twin brothers are 15. She has four sisters, three older and one younger. It’s a close-knit family filled with love.
One day, Noor’s brother, Aboud, went to a store under a residential tower in Nuseirat opposite the house where they had sought shelter.
At that moment, the Israeli military bombed the tower without any warning.
Imagine a tall residential tower of over 12 floors. How many apartments and families were in it? The tower collapsed on its residents, and Noor’s younger brother was martyred.
An innocent young boy went to charge the family’s phones. What was his fault to be killed like this?
The family was devastated, and from here, sadness and death didn’t leave them.
Noor’s sisters, Malak and Alaa, both suffered from cystic fibrosis. Under the difficult circumstances, the condition worsened, but it was particularly acute for Alaa.
She was just a university student in her early twenties with dreams, aspirations, and goals. After the death of Aboud, Alaa became bedridden and couldn’t eat properly. Her condition deteriorated rapidly, and she was eventually transferred to Nasser Medical Hospital in Khan Younis.
She went to the hospital for two weeks, but the appropriate medications weren’t available due to Israel’s closure of the crossings. She started bleeding from her mouth, and in the end, her liver failed.
She left this cruel world.
There was no let-up for Noor’s family, however. Food and money became scarce, and then Malak, the younger sister, began to deteriorate, just like Alaa.
The family tried in every possible way to get Malak out of Gaza so she could receive treatment abroad. Eventually, after great effort, she was registered on the waiting lists of the wounded and sick who can travel to Egypt for treatment.
While they were waiting, however, Malak’s condition worsened, and she developed constipation. The gases in her abdomen began to enter her lungs, and she needed artificial respiration.
Hope against hope
Eventually, Malak was allowed to travel. She could take just one companion from her family. She took her sister, Hiba.
They traveled to Egypt in April 2024, during the month of Ramadan. The family felt a little relieved as they had a glimmer of hope.
Egypt has strict rules for those coming from Gaza for treatment. Relatives of the sick and injured are not allowed to leave the hospital, and must stay throughout treatment.
They move, in effect, from one prison to another.
Leaving the hospital is considered a crime, and passports can be confiscated if anyone violates the law. If companions need essential items, they must ask hospital staff.
Malak’s condition had become very critical. And by the time she received treatment, it proved ineffective. The family tried to find a way to fly her Qatar, but time was not on their side.
One morning, Malak too departed from life.
Hiba, a medical student, knew the severity of her sister’s illness. She knew that she wouldn’t survive. But she had clung on to hope.
She had been alone when she saw Malak in pain in her last days, connected to an artificial respirator. She had been alone when she saw Malak pass away.
She was alone when she buried Malak.
Now she was alone in a foreign country, with no family, no friends, and little money.
How does anyone heal from this?
Were there any tears left for this family to shed? I can’t begin to describe the state of denial and collapse that the family, especially Noor, went through. She was deeply attached to her sisters.
It’s not over. The sadness, death, and longing. They didn’t end.
Rifqa Hijazi is a student living in Gaza.
