Welcome... to the Gates of Gaza
Welcome, dear reader.
You are now standing at the gates of Gaza.
Before you enter, let me ask you honestly.
Not to read, but to answer, quietly, within yourself.
Are you ready to face your fate alone?
Are you ready to fight to survive without armor, without protection, without another choice?
Are you ready to see death in front of you every time you open your eyes?
To have it become a daily scene, not a passing shock?
Are you ready for hunger?
For thirst?
For the simplest needs to become daily battles?
Are you ready to sleep every night under the sound of warplanes, a sound that never rests, that leaves no space for dreams?
Are you ready for loss and grief to become inseparable parts of your life?
To wake up each day carrying a new name that is gone?
Are you ready to leave your home by force, to be uprooted under fire, taking nothing with you except your children and your trembling heart?
Are you ready to lose, in a single second, everything you spent years building?
Your work.
Your university.
Your home.
Your loved ones.
Your savings.
Your car.
Your life as you knew it.
Are you ready to give up every meaning of comfort, to eat expired canned food because that is what is available or nothing at all?
Are you ready for scenes of farewell that never end?
For funerals without pause?
For tears with no time to be shed?
Are you ready for your former life to become only memories, memories that ache every time you touch them?
Are you ready for your home, your shelter, your sense of safety to become nothing but rubble?
Are you ready to live for more than seven hundred days seeing forms of hell, death, hunger, and silence, with no one hearing your voice?
Are you ready to wake up to the screams of people being forcibly displaced from their homes under phosphorus bombs, gas, and shells?
All you must do is carry your children and run.
Do not think too much: tanks are behind you, warplanes above you, shells to your left, and a quadcopter hovering beside you.
At any moment, you may fall as a martyr.
And if not you, then one of your children, or someone from your family.
Are you ready for your life to be turned completely upside down, for your daily routine to shatter and be replaced by queues?
Long hours waiting for bread.
Long hours waiting for water.
Long hours waiting to buy anything available in the market, knowing that the line could be targeted at any moment, that many could fall as martyrs suddenly... and that you might be one of them.
And if you are not killed, you may be injured which can be even worse.
In the end, you must accept one truth: not everyone will survive.
Are you ready to spend a night in a hospital?
Not in a room, but in the corridors, on cold floors, without blankets?
Or a night in a shelter school, in one classroom holding more than five families strangers to you, united only by war and displacement?
And know this: it will not be just one night.
You may remain there indefinitely... if another displacement does not occur.
Are you ready for your voice to be silenced?
For your truth to be erased by the most brutal methods?
Are you ready to be taken prisoner by the occupier?
The worst fate of all, where torture can last until death?
Are you ready to be buried in a mass grave?
Or for dogs to tear at your body after death?
Or for an organ to be stolen from you?
If you are ready for all of this, be honest with yourself.
And if you feel even for a moment that you are ready, then you are about to enter Gaza to live the suffering in full detail, in every painful layer.
But let me tell you one final truth:
Reality is far harsher.
Deeper.
Heavier.
Sadder.
No matter how much you read, no matter how closely you follow, what the media shows is no more than one percent of what we live.
Dear reader, you are now entering Gaza.
But know this: you will be isolated from the world.
Your voice will be heard by only a very few.
And injustice will be constant.
All I can say now is:
Welcome... to t
he reality of Gaza.
Follow me on: @shaza_rataj_gaza | THE VOICE OF TRUTH.