Frightful night
It is the third night in a row of the Israeli offensive operation. As was the case last night, my two young children, wife, my sister in-law, and I all slept in our living room, which lies in the center of our flat. The night was not too different than any of the previous nights, with Israeli jets hitting dozens of buildings—an average of two air strikes every ten minutes in Gaza city alone.
My wife, sister in-law, and I watched the news on TV, at 1 am breaking news announced that the Israeli military hit a mosque in Jabbalia refugee camp, north of the Gaza Strip. We were shocked to hear that the shelling caused a civilian's house to collapse, killing five sisters and injuring all 11 family members. We cried together in the knowledge that no one, not even us, was safe from the Israeli air strikes, every one of us could be hit.
Hitting the Islamic University of Gaza
All of us barely slept—whenever the children fell asleep, a huge explosion shook my home. Five hundred meters from us the Israeli air strikes hit the Islamic University buildings as well as Gaza harbor. The Islamic University of Gaza is the university that I graduated from and cherish. When I heard that the Israeli F16 missiles had destroyed it, I felt as though my good memories had also been obliterated.
The sound of the strike was almost deafening and my two young children cried once more. Immediately, I called one of my sisters who lives close to the university. She was crying along with her five children and told me, "We are so scared... I don't know where to go... what to do... the explosion shook our entire building... we were all sleeping."
I listened to her but could not find the words to reassure her. How could I? It was obvious that no one was safe from harm.
Nightmares
After a long and exhausting night, I finally tried to get some sleep; it was around 4 am. All my family were sleeping and I could see the tears in their resting eyes. I must have just fallen asleep when I awoke from a horrific nightmare where I found myself between shelling and killing and could not figure out what to do with myself.
At 6:30 am my eldest son (15 months) woke up crying. After that I did not sleep. At 9 am we went to have our family breakfast. I was still in a state of shock; the long night of air strikes and nightmares haunting me. I kept my dream to myself not wanting to worry my family further.
All of them had a terrible night's sleep. My brother and his wife spent the night close to the wall in their room, thinking it would provide them with some cover in the event of an attack on their home. At 3 am—all of a sudden—my father awoke my mother, telling her that there was shelling and the windows of the room were shattered. Fortunately, it was just a nightmare.
Power blackout
At 6:00 am the power shutdown completely. After almost 12 hours, it returned.
We spent the day listening to the radio, and trembling at every sound of the strikes. One of them hit a fire station in Khanyounis refugee camp, just 70-80 meters away from my grandma's home. As soon as we heard the news, my mother cried. I immediately called my uncles to find out if everyone was OK. The explosion severely shook their home, shattering most of the windows, but all of them were OK.
Happy New Year, Gaza
While sitting with my family listening to the radio and the news, my mind wandered and I thought about the New Year. Only two days before the Israeli military operation, my wife asked me, "Where do you plan to go for New Year's Eve?" And I told her, "Maybe we can take the children to go for dinner with our friends." Now, in the third day of the Israeli offensive attack against Gaza, I believe that my answer should be revised. We'll probably watch the rest of the world happily celebrating New Year's Eve, while all of us in Gaza mourning the casualties caused by the Israeli air strikes. The world will watch us—all scared and dying—and the day after, we'll watch them celebrating their New Year.
