People mourn as they collect the bodies of Palestinians killed in Israeli raids on November 15, 2023, in Khan Yunis, Gaza.
The World Has Failed Gaza in its Darkest Hour
We feel abandoned, with no one standing by our side.
An American friend asked me recently, “How do you feel, Ghada?”
I paused for a second and then told her I felt afraid, tired, and sad.
I could write volumes about the fear that grips us every night, the constant dread that engulfs our hearts.
The airstrike that is aiming for you has no sound.
In the middle of the night, I hear the sounds of children wailing from every direction. They are likely very aware of the imminent danger we face.
My niece Jinan, or Jojo, who is two-and-a-half years old, started speaking some words recently. In addition to “mama” and “papa,” she has newly learned the word “qasef,” Arabic for shelling.
I could write volumes about the haunting sounds of an airstrike descending upon you. Then, the feeling of relief and gratitude to God that it struck somewhere else instead.
I think I’ve figured out how to tell if an airstrike will hit you or not. Everyone in Gaza says that if the plane hovers above you, and you can hear it descending, then it will not fire a missile at you.
The airstrike that is aiming for you has no sound.
I could write volumes about the weight of grief, about the struggle to remember to whom I should offer condolences.
A classmate of mine in graduate school lost 15 members of her family in a single Israeli attack. Another friend is mourning the loss of her sister, a talented poet.
One recent afternoon, I received the devastating news that yet another Palestinian journalist had lost his life: Muntasir Sawwaf. He is the brother of my friend, filmmaker Mohammed Sawwaf.
We extend our condolences to our friends whose loved ones have been killed by Israel, but we also find ourselves waiting and wondering when and if the Western media and leaders will acknowledge our right to live another day.
Sometimes, I can scarcely feel my own heart beating.
Indiscriminate Destruction
I could write volumes about the moments when a family member gets injured. There is so much chaos, especially since the hospitals are too overwhelmed to treat injuries.
But I feel such gratitude that the injuries are not critical.
I could write volumes about the tanks and their relentless shelling. It’s a sheer miracle to survive such indiscriminate destruction.
Everyone who has lost their homes, their loved ones asks: “Where is the world? Where are the world leaders? Where are the Arab leaders?”
My house has been attacked three times with artillery shelling. When we left home, we were prioritizing our safety.
I could write volumes about the shrapnel that broke through our doors and that didn’t hit me or tear me apart. It was when an airstrike hit a nearby police station.
The Earth shook under me.
Shrapnel sliced through my neighbor, and he had to have his leg amputated.
What kinds of weapons does Israel use? Following an airstrike, one should anticipate the flying shrapnel.
When the escalation began, I was frustrated that I couldn’t take direct action beyond sharing news updates on Instagram and Facebook. Meanwhile, I receive messages from concerned friends, checking in on my well-being and offering assistance.
I appreciate their support, but what I truly long for is an end to this madness.
Everyone who has lost their homes, their loved ones asks: “Where is the world? Where are the world leaders? Where are the Arab leaders?”
We feel abandoned, with no one standing by our side. The world has failed us in our darkest hour.
For more than 60 excruciating days, we have been forced to bear witness to the tragic loss of life, counting each precious soul that has been taken away. And yet, despite the mounting tragedy, nothing seems to have changed.
Entire families are being annihilated, leaving us questioning whether we are to have any hope for the future.
This predictable pattern of Arab leaders and U.N. envoys issuing condemnatory statements without taking decisive action is what allows the Israeli occupation to persist in its crimes and to expand those crimes’ scope with impunity.
It is evident that there is no effective deterrence, even though Arab nations could tap into their strengths and shift the power dynamics in the region.
Urgent. It's never been this bad.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission from the outset was simple. To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It’s never been this bad out there. And it’s never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed and doing some of its best and most important work, the threats we face are intensifying. Right now, with just four days to go in our Spring Campaign, we are not even halfway to our goal. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Can you make a gift right now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? There is no backup plan or rainy day fund. There is only you. —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
An American friend asked me recently, “How do you feel, Ghada?”
I paused for a second and then told her I felt afraid, tired, and sad.
I could write volumes about the fear that grips us every night, the constant dread that engulfs our hearts.
The airstrike that is aiming for you has no sound.
In the middle of the night, I hear the sounds of children wailing from every direction. They are likely very aware of the imminent danger we face.
My niece Jinan, or Jojo, who is two-and-a-half years old, started speaking some words recently. In addition to “mama” and “papa,” she has newly learned the word “qasef,” Arabic for shelling.
I could write volumes about the haunting sounds of an airstrike descending upon you. Then, the feeling of relief and gratitude to God that it struck somewhere else instead.
I think I’ve figured out how to tell if an airstrike will hit you or not. Everyone in Gaza says that if the plane hovers above you, and you can hear it descending, then it will not fire a missile at you.
The airstrike that is aiming for you has no sound.
I could write volumes about the weight of grief, about the struggle to remember to whom I should offer condolences.
A classmate of mine in graduate school lost 15 members of her family in a single Israeli attack. Another friend is mourning the loss of her sister, a talented poet.
One recent afternoon, I received the devastating news that yet another Palestinian journalist had lost his life: Muntasir Sawwaf. He is the brother of my friend, filmmaker Mohammed Sawwaf.
We extend our condolences to our friends whose loved ones have been killed by Israel, but we also find ourselves waiting and wondering when and if the Western media and leaders will acknowledge our right to live another day.
Sometimes, I can scarcely feel my own heart beating.
Indiscriminate Destruction
I could write volumes about the moments when a family member gets injured. There is so much chaos, especially since the hospitals are too overwhelmed to treat injuries.
But I feel such gratitude that the injuries are not critical.
I could write volumes about the tanks and their relentless shelling. It’s a sheer miracle to survive such indiscriminate destruction.
Everyone who has lost their homes, their loved ones asks: “Where is the world? Where are the world leaders? Where are the Arab leaders?”
My house has been attacked three times with artillery shelling. When we left home, we were prioritizing our safety.
I could write volumes about the shrapnel that broke through our doors and that didn’t hit me or tear me apart. It was when an airstrike hit a nearby police station.
The Earth shook under me.
Shrapnel sliced through my neighbor, and he had to have his leg amputated.
What kinds of weapons does Israel use? Following an airstrike, one should anticipate the flying shrapnel.
When the escalation began, I was frustrated that I couldn’t take direct action beyond sharing news updates on Instagram and Facebook. Meanwhile, I receive messages from concerned friends, checking in on my well-being and offering assistance.
I appreciate their support, but what I truly long for is an end to this madness.
Everyone who has lost their homes, their loved ones asks: “Where is the world? Where are the world leaders? Where are the Arab leaders?”
We feel abandoned, with no one standing by our side. The world has failed us in our darkest hour.
For more than 60 excruciating days, we have been forced to bear witness to the tragic loss of life, counting each precious soul that has been taken away. And yet, despite the mounting tragedy, nothing seems to have changed.
Entire families are being annihilated, leaving us questioning whether we are to have any hope for the future.
This predictable pattern of Arab leaders and U.N. envoys issuing condemnatory statements without taking decisive action is what allows the Israeli occupation to persist in its crimes and to expand those crimes’ scope with impunity.
It is evident that there is no effective deterrence, even though Arab nations could tap into their strengths and shift the power dynamics in the region.
- 750+ Journalists to Colleagues: 'Tell the Full Truth' About Israeli Atrocities in Gaza ›
- Nearly 50 Aid Agencies Charge International Community Failing People of Gaza ›
- Seeking Emergency Order, Palestinians Sue Biden for Failing to Prevent Genocide ›
- 15 Years of Failed Experiments: Myths and Facts About the Israeli Siege on Gaza ›
- Who to Blame for the Latest Violence in Israel and Gaza? Benjamin Netanyahu ›
An American friend asked me recently, “How do you feel, Ghada?”
I paused for a second and then told her I felt afraid, tired, and sad.
I could write volumes about the fear that grips us every night, the constant dread that engulfs our hearts.
The airstrike that is aiming for you has no sound.
In the middle of the night, I hear the sounds of children wailing from every direction. They are likely very aware of the imminent danger we face.
My niece Jinan, or Jojo, who is two-and-a-half years old, started speaking some words recently. In addition to “mama” and “papa,” she has newly learned the word “qasef,” Arabic for shelling.
I could write volumes about the haunting sounds of an airstrike descending upon you. Then, the feeling of relief and gratitude to God that it struck somewhere else instead.
I think I’ve figured out how to tell if an airstrike will hit you or not. Everyone in Gaza says that if the plane hovers above you, and you can hear it descending, then it will not fire a missile at you.
The airstrike that is aiming for you has no sound.
I could write volumes about the weight of grief, about the struggle to remember to whom I should offer condolences.
A classmate of mine in graduate school lost 15 members of her family in a single Israeli attack. Another friend is mourning the loss of her sister, a talented poet.
One recent afternoon, I received the devastating news that yet another Palestinian journalist had lost his life: Muntasir Sawwaf. He is the brother of my friend, filmmaker Mohammed Sawwaf.
We extend our condolences to our friends whose loved ones have been killed by Israel, but we also find ourselves waiting and wondering when and if the Western media and leaders will acknowledge our right to live another day.
Sometimes, I can scarcely feel my own heart beating.
Indiscriminate Destruction
I could write volumes about the moments when a family member gets injured. There is so much chaos, especially since the hospitals are too overwhelmed to treat injuries.
But I feel such gratitude that the injuries are not critical.
I could write volumes about the tanks and their relentless shelling. It’s a sheer miracle to survive such indiscriminate destruction.
Everyone who has lost their homes, their loved ones asks: “Where is the world? Where are the world leaders? Where are the Arab leaders?”
My house has been attacked three times with artillery shelling. When we left home, we were prioritizing our safety.
I could write volumes about the shrapnel that broke through our doors and that didn’t hit me or tear me apart. It was when an airstrike hit a nearby police station.
The Earth shook under me.
Shrapnel sliced through my neighbor, and he had to have his leg amputated.
What kinds of weapons does Israel use? Following an airstrike, one should anticipate the flying shrapnel.
When the escalation began, I was frustrated that I couldn’t take direct action beyond sharing news updates on Instagram and Facebook. Meanwhile, I receive messages from concerned friends, checking in on my well-being and offering assistance.
I appreciate their support, but what I truly long for is an end to this madness.
Everyone who has lost their homes, their loved ones asks: “Where is the world? Where are the world leaders? Where are the Arab leaders?”
We feel abandoned, with no one standing by our side. The world has failed us in our darkest hour.
For more than 60 excruciating days, we have been forced to bear witness to the tragic loss of life, counting each precious soul that has been taken away. And yet, despite the mounting tragedy, nothing seems to have changed.
Entire families are being annihilated, leaving us questioning whether we are to have any hope for the future.
This predictable pattern of Arab leaders and U.N. envoys issuing condemnatory statements without taking decisive action is what allows the Israeli occupation to persist in its crimes and to expand those crimes’ scope with impunity.
It is evident that there is no effective deterrence, even though Arab nations could tap into their strengths and shift the power dynamics in the region.
- 750+ Journalists to Colleagues: 'Tell the Full Truth' About Israeli Atrocities in Gaza ›
- Nearly 50 Aid Agencies Charge International Community Failing People of Gaza ›
- Seeking Emergency Order, Palestinians Sue Biden for Failing to Prevent Genocide ›
- 15 Years of Failed Experiments: Myths and Facts About the Israeli Siege on Gaza ›
- Who to Blame for the Latest Violence in Israel and Gaza? Benjamin Netanyahu ›