26 minutes of misery
"Between the hope that dwells in our hearts and our dreams that flee with our thoughts, darkness reigns today. It has erased all beauty. Dreams have disappeared, replaced by suffering and sorrow, between the wounded, the dead, the injured, there is only the hope of simply surviving."
Nasreen and the three children, aged 4-11, had fled south to Deir El-Balah with their uncle. Ibrahim remained in Gaza City because he didn't want to leave his parents alone. When the uncle was shot dead in Deir El-Balah right next to Nasreen, she returned to Gaza City with the children.
"There have been many difficult moments when the family fled from one place to another for nothing. There is no safe place in the Gaza Strip," writes Kharabishi.
He sent the extract from his diary via the messaging service WhatsApp. It is difficult to speak to him on the phone and even the Internet only works sporadically in Gaza. The best way to communicate with him is in the form of voice messages. One of them is 26 minutes long. 26 minutes describing the misery of his family, which is typical of many other fates in the northern Gaza Strip.
"To be honest, there ought to be another word other than catastrophic. We live a mixture of fear, hunger and thirst, coupled with total psychological exhaustion." His description gives very personal context to the World Food Organisation's warning of imminent famine in the north of Gaza.
The hunt for anything edible
For the first two months, they ate what was stored in the house and what could still be bought in the shops. Then they began to serve fewer meals a day. Eventually, the amount of food in the remaining meals was reduced.
"Our meals today consist of herbs and other greens that are in season, like wild chard, sometimes a few citrus fruits. We cook that and it goes on our plates. It's not really nutritious, but at least it gives us the feeling that we're eating something," he says.
On other desperate days, they roam the houses that have been destroyed or abandoned by the inhabitants who have fled to the southern Gaza Strip. They hunt for anything edible in the kitchens and pantries. "Sometimes we find some flour on the floor interspersed with sand. We then use it to bake a sandy flatbread," explains the lawyer.
He and his family are too exhausted to go to the places where aid supplies are being airdropped. "I don't have the energy to fight with tens of thousands of others there to get something," he says. Sometimes things are offered later at astronomical prices. Instead of 10 dollars, one sack of flour can go for 1000 dollars.
The 33-year-old's greatest agony is his children. "We give them the bigger portions so that they stop screaming and crying from hunger". No parent can stand that. "Sometimes they scream all night and I go in search of something to calm them down," he says, adding: "Sometimes I wish someone would just shoot us. At least it would be a quick death, rather than this slow starvation."
"The water stinks"
His wife Nasreen is in the last trimester of her pregnancy. She is emaciated. The last time she went for a medical check-up was six months ago. Recently, however, they did manage to carry out some of the necessary examinations. "The results are poor," was the doctor's diagnosis.
He prescribed her vitamins, calcium and iron supplements, knowing that none of these were available. Hope and patience is the only prescription that can currently be met in Gaza. According to the doctor, the best thing she could do anyway would be to eat properly.
Medication is also a big issue for Kharabishi's parents, who live with him. Both suffer from high blood pressure and diabetes. At first, they took one pill a day instead of two, now they might take one if the symptoms become too severe. In the meantime, Ibrahim can no longer buy anything. The lawyer's entire savings have been used up. Earning money is virtually impossible.
Obtaining drinking water is also a huge challenge. Any available water is saline due to the proximity to the sea and contains sewage owing to the destroyed infrastructure. Before the war, they would not even have used this water from the tap for cooking.
Today, he has to walk some five kilometres to fill a water canister. This is not only dangerous because the well is close to Israeli army positions but also, as he says, because "the water stinks and is cloudy, and all kinds of creatures like worms swim in it. To drink it, we filter it through a piece of cloth".
People's mental health is suffering appallingly. "Dementia, all kinds of psychosis and depression are widespread," says Kharabishi. He often sees well-educated people wandering aimlessly through the streets. "Their heads can't take it anymore. They have literally lost their minds and their memories," he explains.
"How is my children's crying a victory for anyone?"
The worst moment for him personally was a few days ago when he went to one of the places where food was being airdropped because the children were so hungry. "A man right next to me was shot, probably by a sniper. The man was injured. I stood behind a concrete pillar and didn't move because I was scared. He lay there, bleeding to death, trembling, until he gave no more signs of life."
Kharabishi just stared at him from his hiding place. "That haunts me to this day. My moral compass told me to go and save him, but my fear stopped me," he recalls.
A month ago, the UN children's aid organisation UNICEF warned that the children in Gaza were experiencing a mental health crisis and urgently needed psychological help, with many experiencing regular bouts of anxiety. Kharabishi also says his children are so scared they keep wetting themselves. He ends his voice message with his biggest concern, his four-year-old son.
"When the bombings started, my son began making strange noises, rolling his eyes and making faces. His brain sends confusing signals to his nerves. I muster all my strength and tell him it's over – you don't need to be afraid of anything anymore. He sits on my lap and I hug him tightly to me to control his movements. I'm afraid he's slowly losing his mind," his voice message ends.
The extract from his diary, also sent on WhatsApp, concludes with the sentences: "Dear God, I wonder: does the world know we are hungry? Is my crying loud enough to stir anyone's conscience? How is my children's crying a victory for anyone?"
© Qantara.de 2024