The so-called “netzarim corridor” has been a lot in the news lately, because its “opening” inaugurated the long-awaited return of the Palestinians in the northern part of the Gaza Strip. Half a million Palestinians returned home – most of them finding only rubble. On January 29, the American envoy of the Middle East, Steve Witkoff, visited the “netzarim corridor”, becoming the first American official to walk on Gazan soil in more than a decade.
Foreign media have spoke at length about this “strategic corridor” or “buffer zone”, as they call it, and its usefulness for Israeli “military operations” and to “control” the Palestinians. But for us, people living on its outskirts, Netzarim was a living nightmare. This inflicted unbearable pain and trauma to me and my family and thousands of other Palestinians.
Netzarim is not a corridor; It is a great seizure of the lands by the murder of the Palestinian people and the destruction of their houses in the refugee camps Nuseirat and Bureij, and the districts of Al-Mughraqa, Az-Zahra, Zeitoun, Juhor Ad- Dik and others. It is not an intelligent military strategy; It was and continues to be another way of terrorizing the inhabitants of Gaza.
In the first days of war, we ignored that the areas near our house were selected to establish this “corridor”. The air strikes were incessant, demolish everything on their way – houses, schools and gardens – without regard to whether people were inside or not. The Israeli army destined everything in its own way, whether in stone or human.
Most air attacks occurred at night, leaving us unable to sleep, constantly waiting For the next explosion. The sky would light up in white or red, and we would cover our ears and we hide, knowing that an explosion would happen, but I don’t know how close it would be. Based on the sound of the explosion, we were trying to guess the type of missile or weapon used – Drone, F16, F35, Apache helicopter or reservoir – and the location it has struck, a house or land agricultural.
This is how the war invaded and took control of our nights. The darkness would inaugurate fear and anxiety; The children would run in their mother’s arms, fearing the sounds of the explosions.
As part of the preparation for the establishment of the “corridor”, the Israeli army has bombed all the large buildings that surround us. One of them was the five -story house of our neighbor, which was affected in the middle of the day. The explosion was so powerful that it completely destroyed two houses, partly damaged two others and demolished the front part of our house, where our “security room” was.
We chose him as “safe” because he was most distant from another building whose owners received a warning from the Israelis that he would be targeted. This piece therefore became the place where we thought we were “safe” until the shock wave of this explosion collapsed its external wall on us, leaving us with various degrees of injury. I fled with bruises and cuts on my head, but my brother was seriously injured and bleeding internally, while some of my nieces and nephews had fractured skulls and broken bones.
When we realized that the day had become as dangerous as at night, we decided to leave. We searched refuge at the Al-Aqsa hospital in Deir El-Balah, while waiting for the situation to improve or that the war ends. But we left our hearts at home. For us, even security did not mean anything compared to the house.
After a month, we returned home, hoping to find a certain feeling of normality. But there was none. The Israeli army worked hard to extend its “corridor” in areas north of the Nuseirat camp, such as Az-Zahra and Al-Mughraqa.
As part of this effort, Israeli troops would regularly purge the northern area of Nuseirat. The familiar sound of air raids was accompanied by the roar of unknown tanks and military vehicles. With each small advance, shots burst wildly and randomly, while the drones hovered near the windows, listening to all sound. We did not understand the purpose of all this, but we knew that we were in danger. We were going to lie on the ground, puts out the lights to avoid being noticed and constantly pray that we would all wake up in the morning, alive.
While our daily life collapsed under the weight of a constant fear, even the simplest routines have disappeared. My family and I liked to drink coffee on our roof, watch the children play in the street. Whenever we try to sit on the roof, the drones approached us from above and the artillery bombings would intensify, forcing us to rush inside the house for fear.
Finally, we had to stop completely sitting on the roof. The roof itself has become a dangerous place, even for basic tasks such as filling the water tanks. We were forced to use pots and pots to store water for our daily needs.
Just as we started to adapt to the situation, in December 2023, the Israeli army issued an order to evacuate the whole region. At the beginning, we thought that things could not get worse, so we decided, with the displaced families who remained with us – the family of my aunt, my uncle and my sisters – to stay in the house and hold on.
But things only got worse. Exit during the day has become as dangerous as at night, drones constantly leaving bombs in the streets and the main markets. Our neighbors began to leave one by one, and Nuseirat began to become a ghost city.
At night, the tanks moved into the main streets, pulling shells in the houses. The Apache helicopters flew over the head, pulling everywhere. The families who stay with us fled, leaving us alone to face this nightmare.
We finally decided to take refuge in a school led by UNRWA near our house, thinking that it would be safe, but that was not the case. Soon, Israeli tanks have advanced and surrounded the region, leaving us trapped.
We had to choose: stay at school, which was no longer protected, or flee south to Rafah or Deir El-Balah like everyone else. We were four women, an 11 -year -old girl, a 15 -year -old boy, who was still suffering from her injury, and an elderly man – our father – who was exhausted trying to keep us safe and fed; We had no choice but to head to Rafah.
After spending an entire month in Rafah, we decided to return home; We had heard that the situation improved. But that was not the case. The “netzarim corridor” was even larger than before, having devoured more Palestinian houses. The Israeli army had destroyed houses on the northern borders of Nuseirat to obtain an itinerary for its forces to enter and leave the camp when they wanted it.
Incursions have become a daily reality. Suddenly, we would hear the noise of increasingly strong tanks, followed by the deployment of all types of weapons and planes. They dropped pushes above our houses to light up the area, monitoring any movement. We sit in a constant fear, trying to guess how far they would advance this time. We relied on the sounds of vehicles to understand their positions. Then we would hear the terrifying sound of a shell from a reservoir, waiting for it to strike one of the houses. Each time, we fear that it is ours.
In the neighborhood, families call for the help of the red crescent to evacuate the wounded because leaving the house was almost impossible. The ambulances were rarely allowed to enter, and the wounded were left to death because they begged the world to save them. People would die trying to bring bread and water to their children; They would be mercilessly targeted.
We were sitting for hours in this nightmare, uncertain of the end of the raid. When the forces finally started to withdraw, the Apache helicopters surrounded over the head, pulling at random to cover their withdrawal. All this seemed to have nothing other than to terrorize, to make sure that fear would grasp us and to clearly indicate that moving north meant death.
The situation remained the same for a year. The ceasefire, announced on January 15, was supposed to end this horror, but he did not do it. Even after its entry into force, the bombings and the bombardments continue and the demolitions do not stop. The quadcopters always hover in our homes at night.
Last week, the Israeli army bombed a bulldozer, trying to remove a car stuck on the road in Nuseirat. Its driver was killed. The Israelis have also targeted a cart drawn from animals, killing a five -year -old girl and injuring others, in the western part of the camp.
Two weeks in the ceasefire, we continue to live in fear. We still do not know when and if the Israelis will fully retire from their “corridor”. But the images of people returning home to the north that we have seen gave us hope that the Netzarim nightmare will soon be finished and that we too will feel relief.
The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Tel Aviv Tribune.
