As we witness the tragedy unfolding in Gaza, every death becomes an invitation for the living to become storytellers, to bear witness to pain that transcends generations.
With these words, Ghada Ajeel, a visiting professor in the Department of Political Science at the University of Alberta in Canada, says – in an article published by the Middle East Eye website – that her city of Khan Yunis, which was initially declared a safe zone, is now being subjected to a campaign of genocide, and is facing daily bombs falling on it from the air. And the sea, and Israeli ground forces commit atrocities against civilians in the town and refugee camp.
She stated that amidst this continuing terror, her friend Abeer Barakat (an English lecturer at the University College of Applied Sciences in Gaza) posted a message on social media in which she said, in response to a neighbor’s request for painkillers, “In Gaza, there is no such thing as a painkiller. In Gaza, we only have “Murderers, we have nothing but pain.”
Ghada comments that basic medicines, including painkillers, have become a luxury in Gaza. Those who suffer from chronic diseases such as cancer and liver problems, in addition to those who are in dire need of dialysis, cannot find the necessary care in a small corner of the hospital courtyard.
The number of wounded has risen, according to what the Ministry of Health in Gaza reported, to more than 50,000. Deprived of proper treatment, they face death on hospital floors and corridors due to the severe lack of medicine, space and care. Since the beginning of the Israeli war on Gaza, only 400 people, or less than 1% of the total wounded, have been allowed to leave Gaza for treatment.
The writer went on to mention the tragic suffering, according to the horrific picture described to her by her brother, Doctor Nasser, at Khan Yunis Hospital, from the large number of amputations performed on children and adults due to infection, as an unbearable hell.
She said that the people of Gaza face death daily, and the stories of suffering shared by those who have lived through it since 1948 with children and adults are what ensure the survival of the story and history, even if their owners die.
Their determination to keep the Palestinian story alive is also present in Rifaat Al-Arir, her colleague, English literature professor, writer, and poet, who was martyred along with his wife, children, and family while seeking refuge in his sister’s house in the Jabalia camp on December 7. His last words were his poem, which he preferred to write in English, entitled “If Death Is Written.”
She concluded that if death is destined for us, let it bring hope, and let our stories be a testimony to steadfastness in the face of ongoing oppression.
