“I could not leave my house, it’s too priceless to me — it’s home! Although I could hear the missiles hitting the house next door, kids in the family were frightened and wouldn’t stop crying. Still we managed to hold on until they destroyed our cousin Sadlah Matar Abu Halemeh’s causing the death of his nine-member family. All were killed and no one survived — then we decided to leave!” Eman Mohamed writes from the occupied Gaza Strip. Read more about Families flee to school refuges
It’s hard to believe it can get worse, but daily it does. Last week, I saw the white phosphorus clouds doctors have written about and condemned. From a tall Gaza City building, the panoramic view showed a spreading stream of poison, on eastern Gaza. The chemical burns deeply, to the bone, experts say. It is considered illegal warfare, not to be used in civilian areas. Eva Bartlett writes from the Gaza Strip. Read more about White phosphorus: "The patient came back smoking"
Seeing Hedaya slowly regain her smile and her strength is so comforting. At every visit, her beautiful facial features appear more visible and distinct. Um Nayef, her elder sister who accompanied her from Gaza to Cairo, in turn embraces me warmly when I come in and with the Palestinian dialect says ishtanalik, we miss you. I grin and hug her back. We sit down, share a few jokes about Hedaya’s health and exchange hellos with whoever is in the room. Dina Makram-Ebeid writes from Cairo. Read more about Surviving in the "Palestinian Wing"
Wael Selmi displayed a surprising kindness and welcome — you are welcome any time — given that his life’s work had just been leveled by the invading Israeli army. Even more surprising, given that the brothers’ furniture factory in northern Gaza was destroyed by the Israeli army four years ago, causing $300,000 in damage and losses. They’d had it just two years at the time. Along with that ruined factory, the family owns agricultural land which they cannot access near the Erez crossing. Eva Bartlett writes from the Gaza Strip. Read more about No honeymoons in Gaza
Blood is everywhere. Hospital orderlies hose down the floors of operating rooms, bloodied bandages lie discarded in corners, and the injured continue to pour in: bodies lacerated by shrapnel, burns, bullet wounds. Medical workers, exhausted and under siege, work day and night and each life saved is seen as a victory over the predominance of death. Caoimhe Butterly writes from the occupied Gaza Strip. Read more about Still breathing in Gaza
When I’d met the extended Abed Rabu family, before the ground invasion began, they had just had their house bombed by an F-16. Their area has been occupied by Israeli tanks and soldiers since the ground invasion began. Medical workers cannot reach the injured there, and those who have managed to escape testify to imprisonment in their houses, abuse, point-blank shooting (to death), and a number of dead not yet known. Eva Bartlett writes from the besieged Gaza Strip. Read more about "Twenty years of a life erased"
“If this thing doesn’t stop in another week, some of them will die. And they know it,” Alberto said about the war on Gaza, as we looked at a photo I’d taken today of Saber, one of the emergency medics in Gaza who risks his life each day. I’d thought the same thing earlier, when I said “yatiek al-afia” (have strength) to each medic climbing into their ambulances. Eva Bartlett writes from the besieged Gaza Strip. Read more about Gaza's medics: "They know they are going to die"
Since last night from about 8pm until a little while ago, there have been heavy battles in Tel al-Hawa. They were hitting from the sea, from the air. Tanks were shooting. There were thick clouds of white phosphorus filling the area and filling up houses. They bombed the Red Crescent building and many cars in the street were destroyed. An apartment near me was hit and burned and one on the other side. A number of tall buildings were hit. All the windows and doors are broken and shattered. There were maybe 10 bombs falling every minute. Read more about It was like "The Day After"
Adham KhalilJabaliya refugee camp, Gaza Strip13 January 2009
So far, my own family is okay but I feel shy to speak about my family. I don’t think like that. Everyone in Gaza is my family. We are suffering collectively as we are being punished and forgotten collectively, and we are dying. It is very dangerous here and everywhere in Gaza. By 5pm the streets are empty. Not even one person goes out of their homes in my area. But even in our homes, we are not safe. I swear sometimes I can smell death around us. Adham Khalil writes from the besieged Gaza Strip. Read more about Every second there is a bomb
Laila El-HaddadDurham, United States13 January 2009
I have a routine of sorts. I monitor the situation back home in Gaza all day — I keep Al Jazeera English on continuously as long as I am home, despite my son’s Yousuf’s nagging to switch to cartoons. He stopped asking several days ago, when, tearful and angry, I told him Gaza is being bombed, that Seedo and Tete (Grandma and Grandpa) are in danger. Laila El-Haddad writes from the US. Read more about The gates of Hell, the window to Heaven
