Gaza diary, part 29: finding love and a break from death in times of ceasefire

Sunday 26 NovemberManara starts meowing loudly all the time while rolling on the ground and arching her back. At first, we doubted she was in season, but the vet confirmed it. As a result, we can’t sleep – one of the most important things we are looking for in a ceasefire.

Everyone hopes the ceasefire will be the first step towards ending the whole situation. For us, the ones who have already evacuated, the main difference is the lack of planes all day, walking without fear of being bombed, the ability to stay out till later in the night. And – for those who don’t have cats in heat – sleeping. I have also noticed that a lot of married women have a chance to visit their parents, as most couples stay with the husbands’ parents.

But fear and sadness still dominate. For many Gazans, this is a break from death. The most important question is what will happen after the ceasefire. Our lives will move to being in danger immediately. Many people have got access to an internet connection and saw others who fled from their own areas, which led to receiving news about losing their homes or loved ones.

My concern now is my only daughter; she refuses to eat, and she got sick. We are staying with almost 60 people I hear a discussion happening outside among members of the hosting family. At 3am yesterday, Ahmad and his older brother left with two cooking gas canisters to secure an early spot to refill them.

Filling gas is the top priority for almost every Gazan family during the ceasefire. They waited for over 14 hours but couldn’t fill them. The discussion today was about whether to go or not. They decided not to. I heard them talk about how undignified the whole situation was, and how they can depend on burning wood, hoping the situation will end soon.

During the ceasefire, there were sighs of relief, but also a lot of misery, tears and fear.

The ceasefire has enabled Palestinians to assess the extent of the destruction.

Photograph: Omar El-Qattaa/AFP/ While walking in the street, I run into a friend of mine, a father of three adorable children. He is with his eldest child, who wore Mickey Mouse pyjamas and yellow Crocs.

My friend told me that he and his parents and brothers’ families fled together. Due to their large group, they divided into two: women and men. The women stayed at a small apartment of a friend of his, and the men stayed at a cafe metres away.

A huge bomb landed nearby. It was very close to the women’s apartment. He says it was the worst night in his whole life. “We couldn’t see anything – it was night and the atmosphere was full of dust. When we reached them, barefoot, all we could hear were the women’s screams.

“I thought someone died. I thought my kids died. But thankfully they were safe. A big door fell over my mother – now she cannot move her left hand. Afterwards I noticed that my wife was repeating one movement at the same rhythm, as if clapping but without her hands touching. I asked her to stop, but she cannot.”

We chat for a while, and he tells me: “I can somehow handle everything we are going through, but the suffering of my children is unbearable. They are always terrified; they are away from their home and they don’t understand why.”

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The older I get, the more decisive I become about not wanting to get married in Gaza An hour later, I see a young lady I know. She and her mother are visiting relatives who fled to the area we are staying in. We start checking on our mutual friends. When I ask her about someone, she says: “She is having the best days! She and her family fled to the same house that the guy she is in love with fled with his.

“During the period, the families got really closer to each other, and the relationship became official and approved by everyone. Every time I talk to her she shares the struggle and fear they are going through, but a part of her is full of love.”

Palestinians sell fruit in Gaza City on Monday during the temporary ceasefire.

Photograph: Mohammed Hajjar/AP At the vegetables stand I meet a woman, the owner of an embroidery shop I used to buy products from all the time with my friends. She introduces me to her husband.

“It is confirmed now,” she tells me. “We lost our home and our shop. I am terribly sad, but this is something to deal with after this is all over. My concern now is my only daughter; she refuses to eat and she got sick. We are staying with almost 60 people in a small space.”

My friend sent via SMS a post she read. A woman finally got the chance to visit her family who fled to another area. Her nephew has taken Spider-Man as an imaginary friend, and he would always share their adventures with her. When she saw him, she asked him how Spider-Man was doing.

“He was killed.”

“How?”

“His house was bombed.”

I often get asked the question of: “Do you think about marriage?” The older I get, the more decisive I become about not wanting to get married in Gaza. If there is one thing I want, it is for my children to have a healthy life, to enjoy riding a bicycle, and to have alive imaginary friends who have stories with happy endings.

I want my children to fall in love at school or university or a theatre activity; not under bombing and amidst suffering a struggle to find food and water. I want my kids to live in a home that gets redecorated to become more beautiful, not a home that gets bombed and ruined. I want my kids to eat good food and to have the normal life that all children deserve.

‘I want my kids to live in a home that gets redecorated to become more beautiful; not a home that gets bombed and ruined.’

Photograph: Mohammed Salem/Reuters