Esraa Ahmed Khader Obeid (31), resident of Beit Hanoun in northern Gaza Strip, a mother of five daughters and two sons and a widow of Mahmoud Abdul Fattah Ibrahim Obeid.

20 November 2024

On the morning of 07 October 2023, we woke up to terrifying explosions; “the entire world was at war.” I was terrified for my children and decided the next day to flee to Al-Kuwait School in Sheikh Zayed, thinking it would be safe. We took nothing but our souls. We slept on the ground amidst dozens of families, enduring an unbearable life.

Siege… Hunger and Fear

On 04 December 2023, the Israeli Occupying Forces (IOF) besieged the school for four days. We had no food, no water, nowhere to sleep. Our children cried from hunger and fear. Eventually, we were forced to leave and head westwards to Al-Shifa Hospital, as the only place we could find was the staircase, where we slept in the bitter cold winter.

The Loss of My Backbone

On 11 December 2023, my husband, Mahmoud and a group of young men decided to go out to get food for our children. I was deeply worried, but he said to me, “We have no choice but to try; we have nothing to lose.” My fears did not fail me as Mahmoud never returned. I heard that the area he went to was bombed. The shock came when his death was confirmed. His body remained where it was for twenty days because we could not reach the dangerous area. We could only identify him through his teeth and clothes, and he was buried in Al-Katiba Square, leaving my soul shattered.

“If only we didn’t eat, and so he didn’t die.” Mahmoud was the backbone of our family, not just for me and our children but for everyone. When I gave birth to my seventh child, I named him Mahmoud, so his memory would remain with us all.

The Endless Journey of Displacement

Like many other families in Gaza, my heartbreaking journey of protracted displacement has been overwhelming. We spend our nights suffering from cold and hunger. We moved through many displacement shelters, starting from Al-Shifa Hospital to Al-Karama School and then to Al-Kuwait School. Despite the harsh conditions, we tried to adjust by fixing what we could inside the classrooms to at least have a place to sleep. Even with minimal resources and dire circumstances, we were forced to move again, this time to Al-Foqa School in Jabalia refugee camp. Every moment was grueling. Alone, I face the pain of loss and displacement, alongside seven exhausted, scared, and hungry children.

A New Invasion, Endless Fear

Every time the IOF launched an invasion in Jabalia, it meant another displacement. This time, it was from Al-Kuwait School, where we were besieged for two weeks that felt like two years, to the unknown. We had to leave on foot, carrying our pain and children. We headed to the New Gaza School after a harrowing journey of torment and fear, walking among tanks while my heart trembled with anxiety, afraid of losing one of my children in the chaos and terror surrounding us.

Today, the entire responsibility falls on me. My day begins with gathering firewood and cardboard for cooking and standing in queue for hours to get just a bit of water and bread. If I miss my turn, I lose our share. I try to survive with my children under unbearable conditions. Every time we think we’ve found a safe place; we are forced to move again. I carry constant fear and painful memories in my heart. Life is extremely difficult, and I am exhausted. Despite the fear and pain, I try to stay strong for my children because they deserve a better life, no matter the price I must pay.