Everyday in Gaza (2025)

[bunniefuu]

In our homes and in our land, we live

and we die, we do not abandon them.

I'm Mohammad Al-Farra

from Al-Qarara, Khan Younis.

I grew up in Al-Qarara

and studied there through high school.

Later, I enrolled at Al-Aqsa University.

I graduated in 2008 with a

Bachelor's degree in Physical Education.

For over 20 years,

I haven't found work related to my degree.

I loved barbering and cutting hair

for family and neighbors.

I was displaced 7 or 8 times,

each move costing

up to 500 ILS, about 130 euro.

And we found ourselves without clothes,

without my equipment.

With small children,

how can we secure food and water

when they're missing from the markets?

In addition, we have no money left!

The w*r affected my children,

causing them fear and terror.

The most fearful among the

children is my daughter Sham;

she gets very anxious.

When there's bombing,

she comes to sleep in my arms

even though she's 8-years-old.

Every time I consider bathing my kids,

I rethink it a thousand times.

I must wait for water,

without it, I can't bathe them.

If there's water,

I still need firewood

to heat it for bathing.

Then comes the struggle to

save enough water for laundry.

Now we stand in long lines to fill water.

Long lines, just to get food aid

that barely feeds my family for a day.

Education is in danger, if the w*r

goes on, ignorance will spread.

Our children's future is fading

and we're out of options.

My children missed proper schooling

and depend on me to learn.

I juggle teaching them

and doing housework.

When it's time to study,

darkness falls, there's no electricity.

Education for children has

been suspended for over a year.

Children have completely

lost access to education.

We're trying to bring back education

in our village.

This is happening gradually

through simple and easy learning.

We love life and so do our children.

With will and determination,

nothing, not even w*r, can stop us.

When we returned, our land

was bulldozed, it left us shocked.

We love challenges,

I rebuilt and replanted my land.

I set up a barber shop and another tent.

This is my job,

my clients and I need each other.

Despite the destruction and despair,

people still care about their clothes

and appearance.

Some customers say:

"I came for a haircut just to

lift my spirits and escape the w*r."

Wherever you go,

you'll find people seeking life.

Even if Gaza is turned into rubble

from Rafah to Beit Hanoun,

just as they turned our homes to rubble,

we'll rebuild.

No matter how long it takes,

sooner or later we'll do it.

It's our right to live in

peace, justice, and safety.

But unfortunately, these rights are

not available, especially for children.

Every child has the right to live safely.

They just want safety,

but rights feel like dreams.

My wish is to finish my studies.

I dream of growing up

to be an engineer.

I wish the w*r would end

so I can travel.

I want to learn.

I just want to travel.

I dream of what others can buy easily.

Everything is gone,

everything is destroyed.

I had a dream to build a house

and to allocate a small part

for my only son.

But unfortunately...

Providing food is a struggle.

Sadly, the meals we make

are not what they like.

We depend on what's available,

mostly unhealthy canned food.

We wish we could offer

them something better.

None of this matters

compared to feeling safe.

I just want to stop fearing

I'll lose a child at any moment.

Today, I can't even give my son safety,

let alone send him to school

or make him feel comfortable.

I can't hold my son,

he'd hear my fearful heartbeat.

I can't give him the basics.

I never thought I'd see my home in ruins.

I can't describe it,

am I in a dream or a nightmare?

Why our home, our land, why us?

I found nothing to take from my home.

Our dreams, memories, and hopes,

all destroyed in seconds.

At any moment, we risk bombing,

invasion, or displacement.

Displacement is a nightmare

we've lived too often.

They tell us to flee, but where can I go?

I was displaced seven or eight times,

each time, starting from zero.

Each time, we must find water,

shelter, simply everything.

I've loved barbering since

I was 15, I truly enjoy it.

It's a beautiful job, full of

connection and people, full of warmth.

It's a comfortable, clean,

and effortless profession.

You're always fragrant, neat, and you

don't sweat nor see the sun in this job.

All of this was before the w*r.

In my own salon, everything was there:

fan, AC, solar power, and all my tools.

The w*r brought suffering and fear.

While working, I worry about

my kids, my wife, and my home.

Our work has become just a

means to eat, drink, and survive.

The joy and passion have been taken away.

Food and drink prices

rose nearly 20 times since the w*r began.

Food, vegetables,

and even fruits, are almost gone.

I buy vegetables for 20 shekels,

they used to cost just two before the w*r.

How much is black pepper today?

- 30 shekels per ounce.

- Wow.

Before the w*r, it was 4 shekels.

After the truce, what should we eat?

Kabsa.

Even in displacement,

there is bombing, no place is safe.

Every area in Gaza is

at risk of being bombed.

My daughters get bored,

there's no one to play with.

Out of boredom, they turned to beads.

I bought them some,

and they play with them a little.

Did you make this? You're talented!

The ones you made this morning

are really beautiful.

My homeland's soil is part of me,

my children, and my ancestors.

We will never leave Gaza

under any circumstances.

My grandfather had 15 dunum of land,

he planted and nurtured it,

with oranges,

citrus trees, and olives.

Alongside it,

there were four family homes.

It has all been wiped off the land,

there's nothing left.

Despite it all, we will rebuild,

everything will rise again.

I ate from my grandfather's land,

my grandson will too,

because I'll rebuild it.

I'm Suleiman Hejji from the Gaza Strip,

a Palestinian, a journalist,

a displaced person since October 2023,

a human being, an injured man,

carrying a heart full of hope

and a camera to document

what my eyes see.

This video is just a drop in the ocean

of Gaza's suffering over many long years.

I've been displaced multiple times.

I worked in the streets,

hospitals, and tents.

I spent many nights sleeping in a car,

living in unstable conditions

throughout the w*r.

I've lost many colleagues and friends.

What I long for is peace and safety for

everyone, and an end to this suffering.

This film is a simple message, reflecting

the pain and dreams of the people,

a whisper of hope for all,

and a call to action,

so that children may one day

wake up to a morning

free from pain,

displacement, and hardship.