A few days ago, my 30 -year -old daughter, Yasmin, who has special needs, approached me in our little place in the school refuge. His steps were soft, but determined. And I could see his eyes shiny with joy. I listened carefully when she had trouble talking.
“Dad …, I ate … chocolate!” she said triumphantly.
My mind started running, trying to determine what I had heard. Where did Yasmin get chocolate?
For many years, Yasmin lives in a world that has his own rhythm, his own language of affection and wonder. Unfortunately, when she was only four months old, a serious fever left her with a development handicap. And at the age of seven, she underwent chronic bronchitis and underwent pulmonary surgery in Egypt, which still affected her health and development.
We have tried to provide a comfortable life to Yasmin as much as possible. We have equipped his room with a computer, a tablet, books to color and toys of all kinds – construction blocks, teddies, balloons and even a suspended swing of the ceiling.
We have also consulted specialists who have prescribed special Yasmin drugs. We have organized various interior and exterior activities for it. Cache-et-Pas was his favorite game, which gave him sensations of excitement.
Fortunately, for years, we have considerably managed Yasmin’s condition.
However, in October 2023, an Israeli war plane attacked our beautiful house, transforming it into a bunch of rubble. Our property and our resources, including the Kingdom of Yasmine (his room), have completely disappeared.
Since then, we have been moved several times, taking refuge in schools that have become-shelters.
Where we stay now, Yasmin sleeps on a thin mattress in crowded conditions. There is no privacy, no calm, no comfort.
Take care of Yasmine at the refuge was an exhausting and draining experience. She needs help dressing, navigating the toilet queue, walking in the chaotic courtyard. We had trouble making him a few coloring toys and pencils. And his drugs were very difficult to find.
Yasmin is a beautiful and very sociable girl. Interestingly, people do not have much difficulty getting used to how his language dances differently with words. Sometimes she drives herself badly, which causes discomfort. But most people are empathing towards her.
Yasmin is also very nice. She often shares her food with friends, and on different occasions, she insists on preparing gifts. During Eid Al-Adha last year, we decorated a candy tray, each with a reading note: “The EID is happier with Yasmin!” She distributed the gifts with pride, lighting up the dark atmosphere of the shelter.
Unfortunately, now the situation has only worsened. Israel has tightened its ruthless seat on the Gaza Strip, preventing the delivery of basic food supplies, fuel and medical and sanitation aid. The markets have not seen any traces of so many things for months. No vegetables, no fruit, no meat, no fish, no chicken, no eggs, no milk, no sugar, no chocolate!
The absence of food was a serious problem for all people in Gaza. Everyone I know have become much thinner, with pale skin and an emaciated body. My wife and I suffered from dizziness.
Yasmin was particularly vulnerable. She has lost a lot of weight and her health has deteriorated.
In July, nearly 12,000 Palestinian children under the age of five were officially diagnosed as malnutrition.
On August 22, the classification of the integrated food security phase supported by the UN (IPC) indicated that Gaza City officially knew an “artificial famine” and that an immediate response on a scale is necessary. The report marked the first time that famine was declared in the Middle East.
According to the IPC, more than 500,000 people in the Gaza Strip, about a quarter of the population, are close or have already reached catastrophic levels of famine. Unless the field situation changes quickly, this number should reach more than 640,000 at the end of September, while those of food insecurity in the emergency will likely reach 1.14 million.
In addition to the victims of the current war – more than 62,000 killed and 140,000 injured – more than 315 Palestinians have already died due to forced famine, half of the children.
At that critical moment, Yasmin surprised himself in front of me, bearing the lightness of a secret. With a bright face, she said she had eaten chocolate!
Surprised, I turned to her. “Have you ate chocolate, Yasmin?” Or? Who gave it to you?
Feeling my confusion, she smiles and her face turned on with more pleasure. She gently shook her head and explained: “No, no, dad. I did not eat … chocolate. I said … I dreamed!
I jumped and I made a big hug to Yasmin, laughing – laughs that were stronger and longer than I had done for months. My laughter, however, was laconic with extreme sadness and fatigue.
In the midst of the horrors of war and generalized famine, Yasmin dreamed of something sweet. And the dream was soft enough to make it very delighted.
Yasmin, a young woman with special needs, was not aware of the political significance of her dream. She did not know that her dream, where she had tasted something inaccessible, was an act of rebellion against the atrocities of Israel and the provocative hope to live freely in peace and dignity.
The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Tel Aviv Tribune.