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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
World
Ziad in Gaza

Gaza diary part 42: ‘In hard times, being kind is one of the most difficult things to do’

A Palestinian child in a pink jumper smells a bunch of red roses bought from a boy selling them in the background
‘I think of the many flowers I have received and gifted throughout the years.’ A child in Rafah smells roses bought from a boy selling them, 21 January. Photograph: Anadolu/Getty Images

Saturday 13 January

8.30am We hear a lot of noises outside, almost every member of our hosting family and the other families staying here are moving around. I get worried, did something bad happen? During the seconds that it takes my sister to go and open the door to see what is happening, my panicking mind goes through a whole plan: I will take this bag, we will get the cats. We cannot take anything else, no time to put shoes on.

My sister tells me that everything is OK. It seems that a woman and her children who evacuated recently and had nothing with them were knocking on doors and asking for help. So everyone starts going through their belongings and giving them anything they could share. I would not say “anything they did not want or had a lot of” because this is a luxury we forgot about a long time ago.

I go out and see a pile of stuff: there are women’s clothes, deodorant, tissues, sheets and some food cans. My sister gets cheese and some food as well. One of the other hosted family members whispers to the grandmother of the hosting family. They both look at the feet of the children, noticing the torn sandals they are wearing. Immediately, everyone goes inside and brings shoes for adults and children and adds them to the pile.

The grandmother asks the woman to give anything that does not fit to those around her in other tents. Before the woman and children leave, the grandmother goes inside again and brings some loaves and a few bottles of water. “I wish I could give you more,” she says.

It all happens in front of me like a cinematic scene, everyone trying to help. No one stopped for a second to question if they should keep something to themselves. On their way out, the grandmother asks the woman to come from time to time, maybe she could help her with something.

I ask the grandmother if she knows the woman, but she does not. What I admire most is the grandmother giving her the bread. These days, everyone is trying to maintain enough food to survive. She shares an old proverb that her own grandmother taught her: “Bites deter hardships.” It means that food – that you feed to others, or any kind of help in general – will push away many bad situations and bad things around you. Any good you do, will get back to you.

However, it startles me how my brain, in any normal situation, would always think about the worst-case scenario. It feels like the blessing of having a normal life is taken from us, for ever.

Displaced Palestinians on a hill attempt to get a signal in order to contact their relatives.
Displaced Palestinians attempt to get a signal in order to contact their relatives. Ziad was not able to contact the Guardian for 10 days. Photograph: AFP/Getty Images

10am While I was out, a couple I know came by. My sister welcomed them. “They did not stay long. They just passed by to give us the leftovers of two canned meat cans,” she tells me. “Since they know there are cats around us in the land, and they know how scarce food is to feed them, they decided to bring the leftovers to feed to the cats..”

I look at the leftovers and the amount is enough to feed one cat. I was amazed, because I know that they are staying in a place that is relatively far, which means they walked for a while to reach us, just to give us the food.

I go out of the house andfind Moonlight. Moonlight is the deaf cat that my sister and her friend found and brought to stay in the nearby land. The neighbours are no longer surprised when they see my sister holding a cat and bringing it to the land.

I am grateful that Moonlight’s food arrived for him, despite the small quantity and the far place. I am happy that some people are still thinking of animals, despite these extremely tough times.

2pm I was sitting with a group of friends when a friend of theirs joins us. “I have three daughters, the youngest one was eight months old when the whole nightmare started,” she says. “Can you imagine that during these three months, she learned how to crawl, then sit by herself, then walk. I wish I had the chance to film her when she walked for the first time, just like her two other sisters.”

Later on, everyone at the table starts sharing videos on their mobile phones of happy moments. One woman shares a video from her home while her family were dancing to music; I share a video from a friend’s wedding party; another guy shares a video of his last trip.

Then another woman picks up her phone and starts showing us the different meals that she used to make. Watching these makes us scream at least once or twice. I tell her that once this is all over, I am inviting myself to her house for three consecutive days to try the steak that her husband makes, the pasta she makes and maftool (a traditional Palestinian dish) that her mother makes and sends to them.

I keep thinking about the many first moments that every one of us has lost, and the beautiful memories that were a reality three months ago. Yet, now they are videos and photos of people I am not sure I could recognise any more.

Bread is prepared on a makeshift stove in a damaged house in Rafah.
Bread is prepared on a makeshift stove. Photograph: AFP/Getty Images

6pm Ahmad confides in us that the oldest grandchild has been upset, since she hasn’t seen her friends in a long time. She also said that she wishes she could go out on trips like they used to.

I knew that the girl likes to draw and colour, so I ask her if she would like to draw something together.

Since there is no light, my sister turns on the torch on her tablet and we start drawing. She suggests we draw a garden, a tree, the sun and flowers. While we are drawing, she asks me: “Are there blue flowers? Because I want to use blue to colour one of them.”

“Of course there are,” I tell her. “And even if there aren’t, feel free to use any colour you want. It is your painting; be creative. And you know what? I will draw one flower on my side in blue.”

I pick up my phone and go through my photos until I find pictures of some bouquets I have bought in the past. One of them had a blue flower that I showed to her. She is surprised.

Manara, the cat, who is staying with us tonight, comes and sits on my lap and starts watching us while we draw. The girl picks up the paper and asks Manara her opinion regarding colours and the number of flowers. She also asks her if she likes the painting and we both agree that since she keeps looking at it, she does.

When we finish, she proudly shows my sister our painting. We start playing cards. Her mother comes in to check on her. She asks her if she is having a good time, the girl smiles and nods that she was.

After an hour and a half of painting, we start packing up and she tells me how much she wishes to see a blue flower in person.

I tell her: “When all of this is over, I promise that I will visit you and I will bring you a huge bouquet of flowers. And in the centre, there will be a blue one.”

She smiles, thanks me and my sister and then leaves.

8pm Lying on the couch, I think about everything that happened in the day. I think about the generosity of the hosting family in these hard times; how they are helping others when they themselves need help.

In these hard times, being kind is one of the most difficult things to do, but the hosting family and many people around me do it effortlessly.

I think of the father who could not enjoy the first time his daughter walked. And I wonder, how many “firsts” she will have that will not be celebrated?

I think of the many flowers I have received and given throughout the years. And I wonder, will I ever be able to fulfil my promise to the granddaughter?

A man loaded with blankets carrying a baby.
The United Nations reported that 1.9 million people in Gaza have been internally displaced. Photograph: Fatima Shbair/AP
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