I will not hide the fact that I suffer from anxiety. Like most humanitarian workers, I cannot sleep. Fear does not allow me to fall into a deep and uninterrupted sleep. Fear follows us at every step. I am one of the founders of the WEFAQ association (based in Gaza). Since 2010, our main work has been to provide protection and economic, legal and psychological support to women victims of violence and children in danger.
When the war in Gaza started, I continued to work because I believe that women’s rights are human rights. That’s what inspired me in the first place and that’s why I continue. When we provide humanitarian aid, we face great challenges, especially as women. We live in a constant state of tension. When we leave home, we entrust our home and our children to God: only He knows if we will return.
When we provide humanitarian aid, we face great challenges, especially as women. We live in a permanent state of tension.
Our work exposes us to many humiliations and a feeling of disbelief. Imagine that you are going to help people, while thinking that you will never see your children or your loved ones again. It is a terrifying feeling that makes you live in conflict between your protection and that of your family, and your humanitarian duty to go and lend a helping hand.
I live in Rafah (south Gaza) and in our house we hosted between 30 and 35 people who had become homeless, and each of them was in a different psychological state. Since we cannot go to the office, my house also served as the operational center of the association and we did administrative work there. This gave me mixed feelings about duty and responsibility, but also panic, especially since the Israeli occupation was targeting those who provided humanitarian services.
I expected the house to be bombed at any moment. After the sixth month, I began to fear for my children because of everything we saw happening outside and on television. This pushed me to leave. We went to Egypt with my daughter to find a place to live with the rest of the family. But Rafah was invaded before my youngest children managed to cross the border from Gaza to Egypt. This is the fifth month I have spent without them and I feel unbalanced: half of me is in Egypt and the other half in Gaza, especially after the invasion of Rafah.
It’s hard to feel like you’ve lost everything. That’s what all the people in Gaza feel who have lost their homes, their dreams, their loved ones.
My children and my husband had to go to the Mawasi area of Khan Yunis and they are living in tents. It is very scary. A month ago, my house was completely destroyed. This house was a lifelong dream and it no longer exists. We had not finished paying it yet and I will continue to pay the outstanding debts for the next five years. It is hard to feel like you have lost everything. This is what all the people of Gaza feel who have lost their homes, their dreams, their loved ones.
Sometimes when I was working in the field, houses and cars were being bombed within 300 meters of me. WEFAQ volunteers told me about the abuse and sexual assault suffered by women displaced from the northern Gaza Strip to Rafah.
We have been suffering for 11 months. To say that the women of Gaza are strong and to convey to the world the image that we are tall and capable of standing up would be a lie. We act strong only in front of our families, in front of our children so that they do not collapse, but inside they are destroying us. The women of Gaza are physically exhausted and mentally destroyed.
Women feel responsible for their children, their brothers and sisters and are therefore the ones who experience the most feelings and psychological pressure. Try to make others feel safe. Women in Gaza, even if they remain standing, are confused and tired. In the last two months, the demand for psychological support for women has increased because we can no longer handle the pressure.
In this war, women have lost their privacy, their dignity and their humanity. Some have been victims of obscene abuse and sexual assault, others have lost their husbands, their children, their brothers.
In this war, women have lost their privacy, dignity and humanity. Some have been subjected to obscene abuse and sexual assault, others have lost their husbands, children, brothers. Some have lost everything. They have lost their entire family and livelihood and have become completely dependent on others.
In Gaza, we hear talk of negotiations, but we have little hope for a truce. We are caught between the jaws of Hamas and the Israeli occupation. Each serves its own interests and the people are the last thing on their minds. There is no solution except a miracle from God. International and regional efforts to end the war are futile. If there was a real intention to end the war, it would have stopped after the first month, but this looks more like a conspiracy against us in Gaza and against all our Palestinian people.
We want to live a normal and safe life with our children, planning for the future. As women in Gaza, we have been psychologically destroyed. We have no dreams or hopes. We just want to continue our lives: ourselves and our children. To women around the world, I say: form alliances, raise your voice to end the war and demand that human dignity be respected.
Translation of Julián Cnochaert
