Since Israel stopped supplying fuel, animal-drawn carts have become the most common means of transport in the Gaza Strip.
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I once objected to an assignment given to me by my English literature professor.
The task was to record voiceovers for a video reciting lines from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, but I wasn’t really happy with my voice.
“Your voice is a revolution, not a shame,” my professor, the late Refaat al-Areer, told me.
It was a succinct sentence, but it touched me deeply both personally and professionally.
I studied English literature at the Islamic University of Gaza – which was destroyed in an Israeli airstrike in October – and indulged my passion for good stories and writing.
The first lesson I learned during my bachelor’s studies was that literature reflects human nature, human thoughts and feelings.
Being a quiet person, I always find peace in keeping my mouth shut. That’s why I’m used to writing to express myself, to resist, to touch and to change.
My first published work came in my third year of college when I collaborated on Paper Boats Zine, a book written by 17 talented writers from Gaza and Salt Lake City and published by Printed Matter in New York. This success paved the way for me to specialize in content and copywriting.
“What’s the next step, Alaa?” I asked myself as I prepared to graduate on December 7, 2021. I decided to enter the world of freelancing and enrolled in the “Go Digital” project, which included training in translation and copywriting at the Islamic University’s Business and Technology Incubator (BTI).
I loved it. Every moment was filled with inspiration and success.
To-do list
During the course I took part in a competition organized by We are not numbers. It was about writing a narrative about a personal experience in the Israeli Gaza war in 2021.
My story entitled “The crack in the ceiling of my room gets longer with every war” was chosen as one of the ten best in the competition.
“I am proud of you,” wrote Dr. Refaat, who is always present, even for former students.
I worked from home in BTI’s well-equipped workspaces. Everything a freelancer needs was there, including fast internet, constant electricity (a luxury in Gaza, where we used to be able to count on no more than six to eight hours of electricity per 24 hours, which is itself a luxury now that we no longer have it), a pleasant environment, and passionate conversations.
It is the second warm home that I long for today
I was preparing my to-do list for October 7, 2023 and had downloaded it. It included my work schedule, preparation for the copywriting course, and most importantly, plans to meet up with my best friend Aseel, who was leaving Gaza to be with her fiancé in Belgium.
(She finally did, during the Israeli genocide. At that point, it was impossible to say goodbye. Or even hug.)
But that day, the sound of explosions suddenly shook the entire Gaza Strip. My to-do list – and my life – changed in a tragic and irreversible way.
On December 7, 2023, the Israeli military assassinated Dr. Refaat, not long after he shared his poem “If I Must Die” on social media as a kind of final will.
Dr. Refaat was not only a professor of English literature and poetry, a lecturer in translation and copywriting at the Islamic University of Gaza, but also a storyteller and a voice of resistance; he was also my role model. He always encouraged me to write and let my talents shine.
I only learned of his murder on March 15. I had no internet access by then. The Israeli military had the Gaza Strip’s civilian telecommunications infrastructure in its sights from the very beginning.
It was my friend Abeer who told me that my former professor had been killed along with his brother, sister and his sister’s four children.
Campaign to silence us
In the corner of the tent I have to live in, I cried silently. I remembered Dr. Refaat’s genius, creativity, stories, support, kindness, generosity, smile and sense of humor. The list of his qualities and what he meant to me seemed endless.
“When grief overwhelms our soul,” I wrote at the time, “when grief exceeds our tolerance and kills our desires, memories ease the pain; they are the warmth and balm in moments of loneliness. Memories are the refuge of our devastated self from the blows of life.”
As part of its brutal war against Gaza, Israel systematically attacks experts and academics.
This is an attempt to silence Gaza.
It is about technicians who are trying to keep the Internet running in Gaza. The New York Times Israeli airstrikes killed at least two employees of the Paltel Group, which was repairing damaged infrastructure to reconnect Gaza to the world.
Paltel is the telecommunications company that operates the infrastructure in Gaza. A total of 16 of the group’s employees have died since the Israeli attacks began. The New York Times reported.
And it means silencing those voices that speak out with the greatest clarity and force against Israel’s genocide, its occupation and its 76-year-long violations of international law and international humanitarian law.
This is nothing new. Israeli writer Ronen Bergman revealed in his book Rise and Kill First: The Secret History of Israel’s Targeted Assassinations that Israeli security agencies have murdered more than 2,700 scientists, politicians, writers, thinkers and artists since the 1950s, most of them Palestinians.
But with every voice they silence, more people rise up.
I see and feel Dr. Refaat in every single student and trainee he has taught and in every story he has told and written. He lives and will always be an inexhaustible source of inspiration.
And the brave technical crew members managed to restore electricity to many areas in the north and south of the Gaza Strip, preventing Gaza from experiencing a power outage and giving thousands of freelancers hope of being able to work from home again despite the imperfect conditions.
Back to work
For months I have been living in a tent in the rural area of al-Zawayda. There are hardly any public services, let alone internet access, so my attempts to find work again have been futile.
However, a friend wrote to me saying he had heard of a workspace called Dair Hub in the city of Deir al-Balah. I didn’t think twice about going there and returning to my workplace.
It is a long walk under the burning sun just to find a ride. I usually find an animal-drawn cart that takes me to Deir al-Balah.
But whether by cart or on foot, everyone has to cross a swamp of sewage that floods College Street, near the Palestine Technical College, which now serves as accommodation for thousands of displaced people.
It is a heartbreaking sight. Every day I see people suffering in their dilapidated tents, which are their only shelter, often in heavily polluted places where sewage flows freely through the streets. People spend hours in the sun trying to get some water, and spend hours searching through the garbage for cardboard boxes or other flammable material to make fires and cook with.
There is misery everywhere. But it only strengthens my resolve to give the voice of the people of Gaza a voice.
I remember the massacres caused by Israel’s indiscriminate shelling of the Khadija and Ahmed al-Kurd schools on July 27.
Both schools are close to the Dair center, which shook when the bombs hit and parts of the ceiling fell on my head. My colleagues all crowded around the door to see where the bomb hit. We could clearly see the plumes of smoke in the sky.
Can you imagine my mental state? How can one concentrate on work under such circumstances?
At least I have survived so far. I wish I could say the same about some of my colleagues.
Hassan Tabasi was an ambitious freelancer who joined me on a digital marketing training program while he was employed by a company in the Gulf.
Israel killed him and his dream in Rafah.
I met Mahmoud Abu Shawish while organizing activities for the Hult Prize. Mahmoud was full of energy and creativity and helped me improve my problem-solving skills. He co-founded Torood, a logistics and delivery services company that achieved remarkable success in a short period of time.
Israel killed him, but both his idea and his company live on.
Haitham Nabaheen was considered one of the most capable programming engineers in the Gaza Strip, who had made significant contributions to IT companies at home and abroad.
Israel killed him and his family. But I am convinced that others will follow his path.
These are just a few examples of the more than 40,000 people who have been killed so far. None of them are just numbers; their dreams and stories must be told again and again.
Now I understand why Refaat wanted me to raise my voice and make it heard. It is my mission to raise my voice and that of my people to condemn occupation and oppression.
A revolution can be started with just one word.
Alaa Alhattab is a writer in Gaza.
