Every time I speak to my parents and some of my siblings in the north of Gaza, their voices tremble with the weight of starvation and famine tightening its merciless grip on them. They queue for hours to receive a meagre plate of watery stew made from canned beans and peas in tomato sauce. Sometimes, they manage to secure some canned food on their own, sparing them the endless wait for meals, but this only shifts their plight to the water lines.
Drinking water is a rare commodity , and water for washing and bathing is an unimaginable luxury, available perhaps once every two weeks if they are fortunate. My family faced hell on earth in Gaza. Leaving was their only option for survival I lost 200 members of my family to war in Gaza.
I feel betrayed by the UK government A few months ago, my family in the north of Gaza survived on grass for an entire month. When food was finally allowed in for a short period, I felt a fleeting sense of relief that they had endured. But not all of them survived.
We lost my nephew Fouad, only three years old, who couldn’t survive on grass alone. He needed medical care that was impossible to obtain due to tanks surrounding the hospital. Now, we don’t speak of it.
It’s not that we’ve forgotten; it’s just that the weight of survival overshadows everything else. Too much has happened since then – tragedy after tragedy that makes losing Fouad seem like just one drop in a sea of pain. We lost my grandmother, Nasra, who was 91 years old, in the.