My children and I are skin and bones. I wish I could somehow make them smile again.

Yasmin*, 33, used to live with her four children and husband in the Al-Naser area in northern Gaza. A nurse and speech therapist, she has had to flee six times with her family since the war started, most recently after the Rafah invasion. In this interview she talks about their recent displacement, her children’s poor nutritional status, the fear of being attacked forcing her to stay awake, and how helpless it makes her feel that she can no longer make her children smile. 

What was it like to have to leave your home in October? 

The day we left our house we were carried out, because we were buried under the rubble of the place that had meant everything to us. It was bombed when we were in it, without any warning. I can still smell the smoke, and it still haunts me to remember how I was trapped and heard people calling my name, but I couldn’t see them. We were all injured. My son was injured very badly. He has shrapnel all over his body and his vision is now only at 30% because of retinal haemorrhaging. It is so painful when you must leave everything behind.   

My children still talk about some of their toys and ask me whether we brought them with us. They talk about their books and their rooms, and how much they miss them. My older children exceled at school; they were always among the first in their classes. My little girl was excited and ready to start kindergarten. She already had new clothes and a new bag. But she never got to go. I used to work as a nurse and speech therapist, and my husband worked in the private sector. We loved spending time with each other; we used to be such a happy family. 

How has this war affected you and your family? 

The war has affected us psychologically and physically. 

All my children are malnourished and hungry all the time. Today, we opened two cans of tuna and a can of meat. That is all that a family of six eat all day. I used to weigh 65 kg, now I only weigh 55kg. Anyone who knows us from before would not recognize us because you can literally see our bones. My older son used to be a big boy. He lost more than 15kg. My other children have lost around 10kg. My children are still growing, the oldest one is 14, the youngest 5. I am a nurse so I know what this does to their bodies. The shortage in food affects their growth and their hormones, they do not eat enough proteins, fruits, or vegetables. 

They constantly have fevers and diarrhea because of the water we must drink. It is salty - you can immediately taste it. My children constantly ask me for clean water, because what we currently must drink gives us all stomach aches. We recently bought a sort of shawl that is traditionally used to produce yoghurt. We tried to use it to filter the water. It turned black, that’s how bad it is. Many people try to boil the water to make it less harmful. But there is no gas, so they have to find firewood to cook food and to boil water, which is very expensive. People are now using all sorts of material to make fire, and you can smell the fumes of plastic and other such things which make the children cough.  

It takes a few hours every day for us to get water. My husband goes with some of the children to collect it. Often, they come back with nothing because there was no more water available. We try to wash the children once per week. It is not enough, but it is all we can do right now. There is no toilet in the camp we stay in. The next bathroom is quite far away, and I am afraid to let my children go there. So, I bought a bucket which we are now all using.    

We never feel safe. Whenever my children can sleep, my husband and I stay awake. We are so scared that they might drop leaflets telling us to evacuate because they are going to bomb the area. We are so tired and exhausted, yet we must always be alert. I have packed a bag with a few important things, so whenever we must flee we are ready to go quickly. We have already had to flee six times. 

How have the Rafah invasion and the closure of the border impacted your life? 

We have been displaced six times, but the displacement from Rafah was the worst. The situation in Rafah wasn’t great, but at least we had somehow set ourselves up there. Leaving Rafah, hearing the bombs fall and not knowing whether we would make it out safely was very frightening. The costs for transportation were very high. They asked for 1,000 Shekel, which we didn’t have. 

We ended up sharing with a family and the drivers felt bad for us as they knew our situation and lowered the price. Sharing meant that we had to leave some of our things behind, which now makes the situation here in our new location much more difficult. The closure of the border makes me very, very anxious. We all have passports, and I was hoping that we could get out and get treatment for my son’s eye. He cannot see anything when it gets dark. I was hoping we could get him help, but now we are stuck. Since the border closure, the food situation has also gotten much worse. There is hardly any flour, and the types of food are getting more and more limited, and the prices increase by the second.   

What is your biggest wish for the future? 

My biggest wish to see my children smile again. I want us to laugh again! There is no joy. We are depressed all the time, crying and screaming. I want to make my little girls smile. 

I am their mother, yet whatever I try, they don’t smile anymore. I wish I could have one thing to make them smile and laugh again. All they think of now is what happened, about the missile that hit our house, the multiple times we had to flee, and their cousins and uncle who have been killed. 

I wish that this war will end, and I want to get treatment for my son. I want him to see a doctor, and I want him to get his vision back. I am proud of how we manage, that we are still alive, and how we somehow keep coming up with ways of making things work. But it is exhausting, and I really wish that we didn’t have to do this anymore. 

*Name changed to protect the respective identity.