Israa Ali is an interpreter with Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) based in Jabalia, north Gaza. She has been displaced by the bombardments for days and shares her experience taking shelter with her children under the bombardments.
We lay awake, listening to the news on the radio. In this modern age, we should have electricity and internet access, but our phones are dead.
We run to see whether there is fuel to turn on the generator, and then realise that the generator is dead, too. Here, we acknowledge, that we live in besieged Gaza.
While making breakfast with the bare minimum of supplies, I start to blame myself for having children and bringing them into a world with such dire conditions and frequent wars – especially this miserable war.
When you have children, you do your best to protect them and provide them with everything. The numerous times you experience the strong sounds of bombs falling during the day are worth a spare thought. It’s a time when you are supposed to be a strong parent, to remain calm for your kids. But the truth is, you are really in need of someone to calm you down.
We dread nightfall. The Israeli drones, warplanes, warships, heavy rockets and bombs spread like wildfire. After trying to calm myself and my children down, who awake many times crying, I think about my father, mother and family, who are sheltering far away, but under the same circumstances.
You try to think positively, that they are far away from the targeted bombs, but it’s in vain. I will be worried until I hear their voices.