Gaza: “My hug is empty now”

What are the most striking things you have seen or experienced since arriving in Gaza? 

The stifling sense of being trapped, under drone surveillance, unable to escape and the sense that nowhere is safe. The juxtaposition of high-tech drones circling above flimsy makeshift shelters and barefoot children who fled their homes six months ago and have now outgrown their shoes. 

Children of Gaza being the cause of both tremendous hope and of deep sorrow: looking up at the sky and seeing dozens of colourful homemade kites flying gleefully in the sky…. alongside planes dropping smoking bombs and gunfire. Too many stories of well-loved children who leave behind grieving parents and siblings.

Our local Palestinian colleagues who show up to work everyday, roll up their sleeves, and work tirelessly for the people. Despite their own immense grief and loss, living in make-shift tents crammed with 50 other people, some only have the clothes on their backs that they were wearing when they escaped the shelling and bombing of their homes. They show up and do the work despite the constant sounds of tanks, missiles, quadcopters, drones and Apache helicopter fire every day and night. They have moved me with their dedication and kindness for each and every child, man and women that seeks our services. 

What has surprised you about the situation?

The number of orphaned, unaccompanied children there are here. Reported estimations are around 17,000 children. Rafah is crammed with people and there is no space or safe place to provide shelter for these kids. Nor are there any resources, food, water, electricity... or enough surrogate mothers... to care for all these children.

Also, the density of the population who have sought refuge in the small area of Rafah. There are hundreds of thousands of cramped tents that are subject to rain, wind and cold, with no privacy and little access to food, water or electricity. This is not usual for Gazans and Gaza, they normally live like you and me, in houses, apartments. The kids are used to going to school, their parents are used to going to work. Now, they are living in tents, with no school, no work, no food, shelter… and life has essentially stopped while they wait in fear for what feels like the inevitable. Each night they try to keep their kids calm as the cry and scream when the sounds of shelling and bombing resume in the early hours of the morning.

If the Israeli forces were to continue with their intended military incursion of Rafah, it would be catastrophic.

What are the most pressing humanitarian needs there?

Safety. No aid can be sustained if safety cannot be guaranteed to civilians and aid workers. Food cannot safely be distributed. Water cannot be accessed. Shelters are redundant in the face of unpredictable, indiscriminate shelling and bombing. The entire population is traumatised and with images embedded in their minds of what they have seen and experienced, while the international community seems helpless to intervene or end the onslaught. 

I have heard countless stories of people who were tortured, made to watch their loved ones executed, body parts of friends around them and too many grieving mothers and fathers. Just today, a mother told the story of losing one child a few years ago, and then again last month—her baby boy was only eight months old, killed by shelling. She wakes every morning frantically searching for her boy, only to remember her loss again.  “I feel my hug is empty now,” she told us. 

Food, water and shelter are of course the other needs everywhere. We are seeing cases of ‘malnutrition’ which seems an understatement and inappropriate as they have starved. This has never been seen before in Gaza and MSF is rapidly trying to train and mobilise to treat this.

How does what you have seen in Gaza compare to your previous humanitarian aid work?

There is no comparison to what I have seen. This is the worst humanitarian disaster I have ever seen. In other humanitarian contexts people can flee, and civilian life is regarded as the priority above all. In other crises, the suffering is not usually so intentionally man-made.

I have seen starvation. I never seen people be starved.

I have seen death. I have never seen so many innocent civilians be killed and prevented from escape. 

Where hospitals are targeted. Where doctors, nurses, psychologists, ambulance drivers, humanitarian and patients are killed. This is the only context I've been where help and life saving aid is minutes away, but denied.

It's surreal that 40 minutes drive away, over the border wall, people are eating at restaurants, going out, going to school and work and living relatively normal lives... while here entire neighbourhoods are flattened, civil infrastructure destroyed and people are dying from man made starvation.

Gazans want to live in peace and have the same freedoms that we have and want. They want to share a meal with their friends and family, watch their children grow, find love, travel freely. The literacy levels here are among the highest in the world, Palestinians are highly educated, and desire a life and future just like you and me.

They are mums, dads, teachers, nurses, small business owners, lawyers, midwives, soccer fanatics, artists… If this can happen to them, this can happen to us. This can happen to anyone. If the entire international community cannot succeed in enforcing a guaranteed ceasefire upon civilians, hospitals and healthcare workers during this humanitarian crisis, then our hopes, beliefs and expectations for the legitimacy of international law and order should be seriously questioned.